Sans Barn, 3.5x5.0" ballpoint in sketchpad
Sometimes I'm amazed by how little difference (none, exactly) it makes what thoughts are going through my head when I get to the point of putting pen (pencil, whatever) to paper. All that jibber-jabber goes out to the edge somewhere - I still know they're there, but - for the duration my conscious focus fills with shapes, lines, textures... How can I put it into words? The drawing is what I was thinking.
They used to call it "R Mode," (don't know if "they" still do) because it's the type of mentation characterized by more activity in the right hemisphere of the brain than in the left. Best I recollect, some controversy arose over just how physically lateralized this activity turned out to be, each of us being different and all. All I do know is, when I'm "in it," speech and all its worries are somewhere else.
Kinda like Frederick Franck said in The Zen of Seeing, "It establishes an island of silence, an oasis of undivided attention, an environment to recover in..."
Oh yeah, regarding the title of this little sketch: When I first looked up on this little hill and thought, "Draw it!" there was a barn. I put it off because it was late summer and all the foliage was so thick I couldn't get the view I wanted. I resolved to come back in winter, when the trees were bare. Too cold, my car heater wasn't working. "Spring," I thought, and when I finally got around to it, they'd razed the damn barn. Cue laughter at self, procrastination. So today the sun was just right and they've put up one of those orange construction site fences that caught the light so bright, it was like it was mocking me for missing the barn. So I put it in the drawing, that whitish bar across the whole top of the hill there.