Flying Fish

[wayfaringwordhack]

What could look like a cryptic subject line is really nothing of the sort. There are schools and schools of flying fish in the Mahorais lagoon, and as I was watching them the other day, a snippet of poetry occurred to me, which, never fear, I will not share with you here. Something else occurred to me--just the sort of thing I've been waiting to happen: an idea for an original piece of artwork.  I have my other ideas that I hinted at before, but they are pieces concerning everyday life, with a "statement" to make. This new idea is a fantasy piece, something I've always wanted to do.  And just like that, in a flash, I saw it in my mind.

When we got home, I recorded it (along with the stanza) with a very rough sketch. I suffered from no impulses to pretty it up. That right there must mean I'm making progress on the artistic front. *g* (However, I did decide to cancel my art class today, which means won't I learn anything from Marcel today. My arm still hurts from the coral, and the music that woke me up periodically between midnight and 4 didn't help.  I was in no condition to bike over there and stand for 3.5 hours.) I spent a large part of the evening finding reference photos and working up a color palette for the piece. While doing that, I came across the Hieronymus Bosch painting in my new icon that I hadn't seen before. Very fanciful and apt.

I also dreamed of gliding, gleaming fish. I waited too long to record the dream, and now I don't recall it clearly, but there were definitely flying fish in it.