GOUACHE

Late that afternoon, I left Logan on the back deck watching the swallows he liked so much while I while I tackled my next project, getting the paper prepared for painting. Sounds silly, doesn't it? But have you ever gotten a piece of paper wet? What happens? Yup, it gets all ripply as the fibers in it absorb the water.

The only way around that is to submerge the paper in water, leave it there for half an hour or so until it's totally saturated. Afterwards, you spread it out on a flat wooden board and secure it around the edges with tape and staples. As it dries and contracts, it pulls tight like the surface of a drum and voila! No more ripples no matter how wet you get it. Pretty neat, huh?

Logan found me midway through the process, staple gun in hand with half a dozen boards and wet papers scattered around me. A few were still soaking in the tub. I felt him more than heard him as he leaned against the doorjamb of my small bathroom. "Looks like postal tape," was his only comment as I wet the brown tape and sealed down the edges of the paper before I stapled it.

"It is postal tape." I smiled inwardly. For all his silence, he's incredibly astute. He doesn't miss much and I love how his sharp mind is always working to understand the world around him. To me, it seemed like though he is often discomfited, or perhaps unfamiliar with what is happening, he is always watching and remembering... working it out and turning it over in his mind. Even if he doesn't get the whole picture, it's like he has this intuitive sense of the heart of something and is able to note which elements are important and which are dismissible.

He is a fascinating man. Quiet. So interior. So ill at ease outside of the woods he loves so much. I think somewhere that notion had always been in the back of my mind, but I hadn't really been able to put my finger on it until I studied him today.

When his hands are on me, I can barely think... but it hit me today as I was sketching him. He seems very much like a man with a pebble in his shoe, like something is always niggling at him. Collar too tight. Hands in pockets. Out of pockets. Behind his back. Legs apart. Legs crossed at the ankle. Arms crossed. Frown. Rubbing his hands together. Shifting his body weight. It is as if he is trying to find a way to stand to be at ease within himself despite the presence of the pebble. It made me wonder how invasive the 'civilized' world must seem to a man with enhanced senses.

I hardly know him well enough for him to tell me what it was... and I damn sure wouldn't ask, but if I had to hazard a guess... well, let's just say I think his past would probably qualify as one damn big pebble.

He watched me for a while and as he did, I explained what I was doing. He smirked a bit when I wielded the staple gun, but for the most part he simply studied me.

I hardly think he had any real interest in fine art and the process of 'stretching' paper, but Logan is a man who likes to understand things from every angle. He also asks very astute questions. He wanted to know why I sped up the process at the end.

The answer was simple. Leave the paper soaking too long and it can absorb too much water, so when it's mounted and pulls tight as it dries, it can actually have enough tensile strength to snap the wooden board in half. Interesting lesson, isn't it? Even the weakest things, like paper, can have the power to affect something a thousand times stronger than itself.

All it takes is pressure.

And patience.