Filing through the wall

Drawing hands is always a lesson in frustration. This drawing is not one I'm proud of. My goal is to create the gnarled appearance using only line, no shadow. Will need a lot more practice.

Here are a couple of artisit quotes that helped me through this painful exercise:

"At times I fancied I knew how to draw, at times saw that I knew nothing. During the third winter I even realized that I probably never would learn how to paint. I thought of sculpture and started engraving. I have always been on good terms with music."
Paul Klee in his diary, 1901.

"What is drawing? How does one come to it? It is working through an invisible iron wall that seems to stand between what one feels and what one can do. How is one to get through that wall -- since pounding at it is of no use? In my opinion one has to undermine that wall, filing through it steadily and patiently."
Vincent Van Gogh to his brother Theo, 22 October 1882

Mom has settled into a loose fetal position. She likes to have her legs bent and her hands tightly closed. It's painful and upsetting to her when her hands have to be slightly uncurled to be washed. In this picture her hand is resting on a pillow that is tucked under her arm, giving her some support and comfort.

She told Barbara last night that Bill (my dad) was in the room, standing in the corner. That gave me chills. After Dad died (and before Mom developed dementia), she told me that Dad would sometimes come visit her in their bedroom. She cautiously told me this, adding that she didn't want me to think that she was nuts. He would come and stand in the room for a minute or two, not saying anything, and then would leave. I believed her, although I'm not inclined toward the supernatural, and I believe she saw him last night.