Buddha as Mountain (Flatpoint)

If I were any lighter, I’d be blown right off the hillside. The sun is low, wind picking up -it blows the pencil right out of my hand, like a beast. It’s toying with me. I’d driven by this grouping of hills earlier, I don’t know if I’ll be this way again so this is my only chance. I dug in, leaned against the wind and tried my best to get every curve, hill, pit fighting the wind for my pencil at every move.

The line drawing is an observation of the mountain. I know if I didn’t see it while I was drawing.. but when I pull the sketch out later, the hooded figure is clear, the motion is clear. It is very much an individual and not a still pile of earth. Tied to the earth in a grounded strong connection .. but rising up in motion in all ways… the changing treeline dancing on its shoulders.

The lines of depths, ups, downs and swirling pits .. with its own palette, I find this language of telling the mountain’s story.