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Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s
Page 021
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44 or that those aspirations are slowly taking shape. These ideas are but awaiting an opportunity to step forth, right out into the foreground of our conscious mind before they may begin impatiently to clamor to be expressed. Merely to begin on a project means that the mind will soon be alive and cluttered with images solidifying through stimulation and expression. The conception of a composition may have been formulated in our mind and we may clearly perceive how we want to develop the idea; but it is only through the doing itself that we work and feel into existence the original thought. What difference if the development may be a far cry from the first experience and idea? The small hands that were those of the child were ever busy. The fingers of the adult are not content to be idle and are not happy unless they are actively occupied. They feel; they model; they mold; they compose; they design and draw; they carve and are joyful only in so doing. As an impetuous child it was always a pencil and paper, a
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44 or that those aspirations are slowly taking shape. These ideas are but awaiting an opportunity to step forth, right out into the foreground of our conscious mind before they may begin impatiently to clamor to be expressed. Merely to begin on a project means that the mind will soon be alive and cluttered with images solidifying through stimulation and expression. The conception of a composition may have been formulated in our mind and we may clearly perceive how we want to develop the idea; but it is only through the doing itself that we work and feel into existence the original thought. What difference if the development may be a far cry from the first experience and idea? The small hands that were those of the child were ever busy. The fingers of the adult are not content to be idle and are not happy unless they are actively occupied. They feel; they model; they mold; they compose; they design and draw; they carve and are joyful only in so doing. As an impetuous child it was always a pencil and paper, a
Iowa Women’s Lives: Letters and Diaries
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