February Ink Part 1

Weeks 6 and 7 this time for Inktober 52 over on Instagram

Week 6, Hammer:

Black-and-white pen ink drawing of an x-rayed skull from the side. The skull has three nails driven into the top with an exclamation point. A hammer hovers to the left with a ?. To the right it is entitled “Hammer It Home.”

This one is about being stubborn. This drawing is a literal interpretation of the phrase “hammering it home” or “driving it home” in reference to an idea that a person is trying to get another person to believe or understand. Eventually the ideas might get through, but only with persistence!

Sketched with pencil first then traced and finished with pen.

Week 7, Dinner:

An ink and pencil drawing of a paneled bedroom in a farmhouse.

It wouldn’t be obvious why this is dinner to anyone but my brother and I. This room doesn’t exist anywhere but our memories, but it was my bedroom, and sometimes both our bedrooms, at my grandparents’ farmhouse. The room was over the kitchen, where my grandmother invariably made delicious, simple food. I have many distinct memories of sitting exactly in the perspective that I drew this, and can engage all my senses and go right back there.

From here I could smell dinner cooking, often burgers (from their own cattle) and corn (from my grandmothers garden). I probably hoped for strawberries or homemade pie for dessert, and knew that my grandmother’s prize-winning gladiolas would be on the table.

In this room there is a corn cob pipe on the dresser, a ~1915 marbles game in the corner, and a stack of National Geographic magazines. Handmade embroidered eyelet curtains ruffle in the breeze. It is warm, and through the open windows I can hear bees, birds, farm cats and rustling corn stalks. Those were the perennial sounds of summer at the farm. Sometimes, I can hear cows lowing, farm equipment churning, and my grandmothers sewing machine whirring. The occasional car crunches down the gravel road. In addition to dinner, room often smelled like sunlit warmth, and antique furniture, of which the house had a lot.

I sit on an antique (but still in use) white matelassé coverlet, and lean against a white vinyl headboard from the sixties. The twin bed next to me had the same cover but an elaborate antique headboard. Both beds sport floral pillowcases from the seventies.

This room is my happiest memory. I would sit here and draw house floor plans for hours, safe in the warm embrace of these house and my grandparents, the loveliest people I will ever know.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.