Have you had a day, just any of them, a day in which it was filled with color? Or a day with a snugly fog keeping things close because the farther ones are a waving grey of what can be clear distractions? Or a day when you wake up as a guest and see all the things that were familiar because they were once your things and now you are sleeping among them? Or a day when your head is buzzing with ideas that you cannot stop so you let them flow? Or a day in which you ask these questions so that you can remember? All the better?
Today was colorful. I had nearly 30 ink bottles and vials with samples. With lots of water to rinse a pen and a bunch of cotton swabs and a bunch of 3″x5″ blank index cards. Sat down and wrote the ink name, scribbled a bit on the card and then dipped the cotton swab in to the vials and painted a So many different blacks, blues and greens blotch of color. So many different blacks, blues, and greens names. It was a quiet day.
— MichaelRpdx :: ih3k
