Quartered Moon 13
Jan 11, 2016
A couple of days ago I came upon a picture I had drawn of my family's old dog, Daisy. I knew she didn't have much time left when I drew the picture, and I remember thinking that if I woke up in the morning to find her dead, I would draw a second picture of her on the right-hand page. Creepy.
Now, the drawing exists as manifest evidence of the time I spent with Daisy that summer, curled up with her on that bed. Treasure made of a moment. When I look at it, I can smell her scent, feel her waxy old-dog fur.
I was only home for the summer, and she ended up living until Christmas eve, so I never drew the ghoulish second image. Somehow, though, the blank white page feels more appropriate.
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(updates 8-months early @ patreon.com/mumblethief)
(updates 8-months early @ patreon.com/mumblethief)
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