Brigid’s journal unfolds beneath the Caledonian pines, where light moves differently, and the loch keeps its own counsel:
Brigid and the Scots Pinecone – A Soft Geometry
17 June – Glen Affric, Scotland: pencil, paper, watercolour and brushes—dawn’s sun holds a single fallen pinecone in its grasp, and Brigid writes:
an offering from the unpainted sky—
this single wooden blossom,
this perfect fibonacci,
infinity’s hard geometry.
“This is why I don’t understand geometry,” she whispers into the space between shadows—
“how does one sketch the active space between objects, if the empty space is equally important;
where should my eye settle—on the tension of its vibration, or its implied release?”
Should the eye explore darkness—
an echo of one’s own unraveling,
what must be shed to become air—
light?
“Don’t look in the hollows—be the hollows,” she whispers to the pinecone, “be music that cuts a seed free, watch it fall free—feel the shape you leave in my clench-blossom fist, a shape so full of sky that all else is absent.”
Colours mixed—
charcoal and fawn,
hunger and dawn—
but the canvas stays stubbornly blank where the pinecone isn’t.
“Will I ever find the shadow of what is unseen?” she asks the tree, touches a trickle of pitch, and swirls the resin into watercolour as a soft voice answers…
Don’t fear emptiness—it is the pause between notes that makes the music, and even the unmarked air around her brush hums, waiting to be cut into shape.
Previous Instalments – To access all of the instalments on one page, please use this link.
Written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story including the word “pitch”. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.
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