I passed this old workshop numerous times going from Carmarthen to Drefach-Felindre. Eventually I parked up and took a photo so I could sketch it. I love old buildings like this which seem to be everywhere here in Wales.
Like I said getting a good likeness of someone in a portrait is a very tenuous grasp...I start out well...looks like them...hey I captured that...just a little off...Oh Crap! Still, I keep trying.
A Brief Pause at the Edge of Becoming
It seems I am always seeking a place to sit—
not just to rest the body,
but to settle the soul.
Yet even in stillness, Gary Brecka’s words whisper:
“The quickest way to old age
is the aggressive pursuit of comfort.”
So I do not stay long.
I walked until I found a picnic table
beneath a canopy of bare-limbed trees,
branches like open hands waiting for green.
The blue spruces nearby—
stoic, unchanged, whispering that some things endure.
I sketched.
Not perfectly. Not for anyone’s praise.
Just a mark to say: I was here.
Alive in this in-between.
Waiting. Listening.
Not for leaves—
but for something truer than comfort.
Thank you for joining me in this small noticing.
A moment borrowed from the rush.
A table. A tree. A thought.
A gift.
