Day Books, the art-as-life of Sharon Frost, one page after another.

Embedded: Front to back: sensing the planes. 19 May, 2013.

             7 x 14 in. double page spread; watercolor, ink, whatever, on Stonehenge paper.

For Stephen. It's the ankle angle. It's narrow. 20 April, 2013. Saturday.

                             5 7/8 x 9 in.; watercolor, ink, whatever, on Stonehenge paper.

Looking for a footing. The bones find it first. 19 March, 2013.

 

5 7/8 x 9 in.; watercolor, ink, whatever, on Stonehenge paper.

Joint account: transferral. 26 January, 2013.

             5 1/2 x 11 in. double page handbook spread; watercolor, ink, whatever, on paper.

It's beside the point. 10 January, 2013.

                                          5 7/8 x 9 in.; watercolor, ink, whatever, on paper.
                                                            Steve's getting hip.

Finally, my 2013 Anatomy Calender is ready, at Cafepress:  http://www.cafepress.com/sharonfrost.603143782

Get hip to it. It's unnerving. 23 November, 2012.

 

7 x 14 in. double-page spread; watercolor, ink, whatever, on Stonehenge paper.

This drawing is featured on Jonathan Fitzgordon's blog:  http://blog.corewalking.com/

Muscling in on the brachial plexus: it's the pectoralis minor. 22 October, 2012.

                7 x 14 in. double page spread; watercolor, ink, whatever, on Stonehenge paper.   

I feel as if my friend Sophie Verzosa and I are partners in this anatomical unraveling.  And may it ever unravel, as it manages to hang together.  That's the dilemma of the shoulder really.

 

Brachial plexus: the nerve. 29 September, 2012. Saturday.

 

 Sketchblog:  http://sharonfrost.typepad.com/day_books

7 x 14 double page spread; watercolor, ink, whatever, on Stonehenge paper.

This drawing was featured on Jonathan Fitzgordon's blog.

It was made possible by prodding and assistance from Sophie Verzosa.

 

Coracoid gesticulation: it's a chain reaction.

 
8 x 10 in. double page moleskine spread; watercolor, ink, whatever, on paper.

 

 And I’m still rehabbing my shoulder.  Who knew a mugging would stay with me for so long. 

When you feel a gesture in all it’s parts, even without pain, you know you’ve lost fluidity.  And when turning over in bed wakes you up you know you should stay out of yoga class.

An injury doesn’t generally stay still.  It travels along a chain, and sometimes can even change the subject.  An aching shoulder can  be reflected in an aching back.  It’s weird.  (There is, however, improvement.)

Foot cozy. Where there's light there's heat, and in the heat of process is sensation. 28 de agosto, 2012. Foot fault.

 7 x 14 in. double page spread; watercolor, ink, whatever, on Stillman & Birn  pape (alpha series).