The Ink Drop: Day Two Hundred Thirty One

It's my last night in Jemez, at least for a little while.

We continued work on the mural today, stopping for a quick lunch at the cafe across the way.

After returning home, we ventured down into the river to build a small dam and bask in the sunlight.

It looked like rain, but the storm never quite hit us (despite a fair amount of thunder and a flash flood warning). Still hoping.

crisp adj. Easily broken; brittle; brisk or cold; sharp; clear. v. To make or become crisp.

I wasn't sure how to begin after finding today's word. It spoke to me, but I couldn't quite turn the feeling it gave into something I could put on paper. Sitting there staring out the window, listening to the river running,my mind wandered on back through my day. I remembered wandering down stream, untangling thin and delicate prayer flags, bleached and worn from the sun and wind. Eventually, having collected a few of the more interestingly worn flags, I found a spot to rest on a boulder in the center of the river.

I sat there and watched the clouds rolling in and made an effort to clear my mind.

Everything seems so utterly peaceful in these mountains; the air is fresh and the light is sharp and bright without becoming harsh or glaring. There's a sense of calm and bone-deep cleanliness that washes over me when I visit. I wanted, with today's word, to put that feeling down on paper (now you can see why it may be a bit of a struggle to form those feelings into a simple illustration).

In the end, I decided to sketch my moment on the rock; it may mean something different to each person that sees it, but it brings me back to that moment and that, I think, is the important thing.