Under the Weeping Cherry

This drawing was made on the first warm day of the year. A weeping cherry tree stood just off the path in Prospect Park, branches bent like questions. Around it, the city buzzed—families, music, bicycles—but here, there was only the sound of breeze and birds. Brush met paper not to capture the tree, but the moment of looking at it. The drawing holds no color, but the color was there—in memory, in air. The tree, just beginning to bloom, seemed less like a subject and more like a pause. A place to rest your eyes and remember how to notice again. What Drawing Can DoThis is part of an ongoing project: three sheets of paper, one session, no corrections. Each stroke is a decision. A record of attention. In this one, the ink holds the shape of the afternoon and the space between branches. It’s not a picture of a tree. It’s the time spent with it. For Those Who Value the Seen and the FeltA quiet piece for anyone who finds meaning in stillness, gesture, and the ordinary made extraordinary throu