In Flight

First thing in the morning, last thing at night I drink tea. It must be...love. Nightmare's are diminished by hot drinks and doodling, with the Lights in the distance; the stars beyond the velux shining dots which i try to join up on paper.

It's raining dogs and cats in my mind; where Revenge is never sweet unless drawn because the pen is mightier than the sword.

Below the surface of pen marks are feelings. Trading forever; their skinny, whispy selves with meaning and clarity. I'm a scavenger of Happy thoughts which often appear on the page, and make me fly. The view from up here is of a dazzling web.

This is not a sketchbook, it is a Face in the crowd of thoughts; of Things that changed other things when opened and read.

Dirigibles and submersibles; artists and writers

An extract from my entry into the Faucethead / Sketchbook Project competition.

http://www.faucethead.com/blog/?p=771