In a passage from a group of quietly Sauntering essays, John Ruskin reminds us of the way it has always been: To really see, draw the thing:
And to-day, I missed rocks, palace, and fountain all alike, and found myself lying on the bank of a cart-road in the sand, with no prospect whatever but that small aspen tree against the blue sky. Languidly, but not idly, I began to draw it; and as I drew, the languor passed away; the beautiful lines insisted on being traced, - without weariness. More and more beautiful they became, as each rose out of the rest, and took its place in the air. With wonder increasing every instant, I saw that they “composed” themselves, by finer laws than any known of men. At last, the tree was there, and everything that I had thought before about trees, nowhere. (From page 314 of The Works of John Ruskin, edited by E. T. Cook and A. Wedderburn. London: George Allen. 1908.)
For a brief biography of John Ruskin, click here. For images of him and of his art, click here.
Comments