Just for a goof I'm going to detail the progress of what will be either a drawing or a painting. At this point I have not begun; I have only gathered the resolve to begin. I do not have any idea what the picture will be of or about.
And- folks, this is live!- just as I typed the above a notion came to me... a dim and incomplete image of a car-sized, restrained (as in tied up) something-or-other between two trees.
One tree is dead, just the rotting trunk, but still sturdy. It's limbs have been chopped off with great carelessness and its mutilated shape suggests a human figure running away in horror. The other tree is a childrens'-book-perfect sycamore... the king of trees.
The thing between them is pale orange-green, and constructed along lines that make it unrecognizeable as a fellow-earth dweller. That is, it has a shape that relates to no known animal phyla. But perhaps we can't see it aright because it is caught in some sort of snare, a snare intended to trap some much smaller animal and into which this monster has blundered. It writhes and twists to escape but cannot get purchase on anything. It is not a toothy thing but a smooth, insinuating one. Vivid colors... better to paint, probably.
Meanwhile Adam and Eve are (this could be called The Further Adventures of Adam and Eve) in a panic. This beast is much larger than they are and terrifyingly alien. God only knows what it might do.
Adam is sharpening his knife on a rock, a very poor knife that we can see, even from this distance, is dull. Will he kill the creature or cut the ropes? Adam is completely losing his shit over this. Eve is as interested in the knife as in the monster.
Now I can see the whole setup except for the precise anatomy of the beast. Mark you, when I sat down to write this say ten minutes ago I had no idea whatsoever what the picture was going to be; the whole thing came in like a postcard. Frankly I was expecting a more long-and-drawn-out struggle... hell, that's why I undertook this diary in the first place, to document agrim battle. But whoops! The kid was born in the barracks.
If realizeable ideas came together this easily all the time life would be as sweet as sugar. Everything else would fall into place; a tidy yard, regular workouts at the Y, informed dinner-table conversation, sanity all around.
Yours for fresh air and sunshine,