Sketching swallows
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The seed of an idea has been planted...
But it's a fragile one.
It's as delicate as the wing of a moth, or the egg of a songbird, resting in the palm of an outstretched hand.
Sketching swallows in the studio. Photo credit: Alex Sedgmond
Released to the world too soon, and there’s every chance it will wither—stifled before it has the chance to truly take flight.
Held too closely, and it won’t build the strength it needs—external forces are essential for it to take shape, mature, and grow.
The seed of an idea, coming to life... but it's a delicate one. Photo credit: Alex Sedgmond
For now, I can’t say too much about this project, for fear of failure.
But what I can say, is that it feels good to be sketching again.
To be going back to my roots (or the drawing board) of where it all began for me as an artist and designer.
With pen and pencil in hand.
Swallow eggs, collected from the floor of my parents' garage last spring. Photo credit: Alex Sedgmond
Alex Sedgmond joined me in the studio to capture these photos, after a day of harvesting seeds from Dad's veg patch.
It’s always a joy to exchange ideas with this gent—sharing what we’ve been working on—while he unknowingly captures the sketching process.
If you haven’t already, go check out his work—or better yet, give him a follow.
“Though I do not believe that a plant will spring up where no seed has been, I have great faith in a seed... Convince me that you have a seed there, and I am prepared to expect wonders.”
So all of this to say; updates coming soon. Promise.
Until then, I'm making the intention of taking it day-by-day, and creating small moments in between to savour the early spring air.
I hope you'll join me.
