“Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone….”
Joni knows it all.
On the day I leave, I got on my best drawing roll (well the feeling, perhaps not necessarily the result) hiking again in these magnificent Italian hills. I can only imagine the explosion that two weeks will bring.
I was feeling guilty for not even wanting to carry a sketchbook, and today brought a reunion with my Pilot G-Tec-C4, my finest of blacks. Didn’t hurt that it was the most crisp, crystal blue day so far. Shorts all day, and sweating. Like that sensation athletes describe when they hit a scoring groove, I felt something close to that this afternoon. Farmers were out harvesting chestnuts, apples clinging to branches, drooped with ripeness along the road, and I took my new app, Brushes, for a spin.
Its plethora of options leads to overdrawing.
Knowing when to stop is a fine art indeed.
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