You might recognize these elements from the June chapter of When Wanderers Cease to Roam. In my book, June is a month in flight — lots of birds and insects on my mind, floating in air as thick as the honey smells of Summer.
But June is also for remembering when you lived closer to the ground, many years ago, about four feet up from your sneakers — when you were running the bases in a neighborhood game of kick ball, and about two inches from the dirt — when you rested your chin on the ground to watch ants forage for food in the grass. That’s why I tried to paint June from a bug’s eye view — to remind me (and you) of a long-gone point of view, when we were small.
I have put these little paintings in a collage because, well, what else am I going to do with all those original illustrations from When Wanderers Cease to Roam?
I’m still working on a title for this one. So maybe I’ll resort to an old trick:
I just opened a book I had here at hand at random and this is what I got:
“Your observations are to be taken with great pains and accuracy”.
(from an excerpt from the diaries of Lewis and Clark)
I could do worse.