The lake changes constantly. I see ripples on the surface and a slower movement underneath.
So I wondered: what is it, really, a lake?
Is it the water?
No. The water just runs through.
Is it the big bowl which contains the water?
No. The bowl needs to be filled with water to be a lake.
So what is it??
I asked the lake.
He replied: "I am the space that makes lake-being possible."

Le lac change constamment. Je vois les ondulations sur la surface et un mouvement plus lent en dessous.
Donc j'ai réfléchi : qu'est-ce, vraiment, un lac ?
Est-ce l'eau ?
Non. L'eau ne passe qu'à travers.
Est-ce le grand bol qui contient l'eau?
Non. Le bol doit être rempli d'eau pour être un lac.
Alors qu'est-ce??
J'ai demandé au lac.
Il a répondu:
'Je suis l'espace qui rend lac-être possible.'

Drawings of 2/10/13, 5/10/13 and 6/10/13
Oil pastel on thick paper / Pastel à l'huile sur papier épais.

Drawings of windows and doors in my house.

Drawings of 30/9/13, 2/10/13 and 4/10/13
Ink over soft pastel and charcoal on ivory-coloured paper.

"Tamaya" is an indoor plant that has been with me for 17 years. It almost died after last summer's severe heat. It's been miraculously recovering for almost a month and my drawings are a botanical record of it. They've been made on Velin d'arches paper, like studies for future etchings.

I really enjoyed this time spent concentrating on sheer observation of this plant. It almost became a meditative exercise.

Tamaya: Drawings of 1/10/13, 4/10/13 and 5/10/13
Pencil on velin d'arches paper