low light

Mornings in our house, especially during this season of the year when the days emerge into pale light for seemingly the briefest interval before the world is swallowed by cold darkness again, are times when I feel an almost morbid appreciation for the velvety cloak of deep shadow that envelopes the rooms downstairs. Forms are defined by weak highlights from the grey light filtering in through the large but widely spaced old double hung sashes. The colors in the drawing are much brighter than it really is, but working in the dark, I couldn't tell until I came up here to the studio.

My children find it depressing, and I remember as a child how I similarly disliked dark Victorian interiors, but now I find comfort in the experience of being wrapped in darkness, peering out through layers of mysterious forms only suggested by wavering, tentative daylight. We live in a cavernous old church with brick and stone walls eighteen inches at their thinnest, and the large space that is our living and dining room is painted a deep gold and furnished in dark wood and likewise dark old upholstered chairs and sofas. For me, it is a private place of refuge, filled with worn and idiosyncratic furniture from periods both antique and modern, hung with art and cluttered with books, souvenirs from places near and far, and reminders of family. When I'm here alone, I leave the lights off and float like a ghost through this quiet, lurking darkness visible.

victorian sofa, 11 1/4 x 8, Derwent Inktenses pencils

Comments

[jguss]

I love this post for several reasons. First, the almost Lovecraftian sense of gloom that pervades the opening paragraph is redolent of chthonic beings lurking in darkened corners. Second, your comment about what children find depressing gave me a sudden flashback to some of the things and places that I found disturbing in my youth. These were typically places that I now understand were innocent, but at the time seemed both dreary and slightly minatory. Finally, there is the sketch. It's terrific, and evokes a sense of timelessness that would make the casual observer hard pressed to identify the era it represents.
Thanks, Scott.

[Scott A. Stultz]

Glad you enjoyed the post, Jon. I always like hearing when I've left something here that triggers a memory or reminder in another person's experience.