More thoughts on the Terracotta Warriors

July 13, 2015

 

The excavation pits, the beautifully detailed figures, the massive accumulation of artistic effort is staggering. I cannot take it all in. I draw, photograph, listen to our guide. The crowds of Chinese are large and appreciative. I get photographed, interviewed by young Chinese artists. My ambition to focus and be present gives me so much pleasure that I loose my group for an hour. But we have all learned from Tom’s misfortune, and there is a meeting up spot at the arrival gate so I don’t worry. The truth is that I am happy, alone, working, focused, making a drawing that will hold my memories of Xi’an much longer than 500 photographs could. When I am drawing my eye and hand moves along the contour of the object like a very slow ant. I have never looked at a Terracotta horse and drawn it. I do not “know” the form in my eye muscle to hand movement yet. The profile of the kneeling archer is unknown also. The layers of fired and painted clay, 2,000 years old holds me like listening to Ella and Louis. I am fixed. I thank the spirits of the ancestors for this art, this day, this world.

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