In "At Dawn", I explore the idea of beginning as anticipation for the future and how it relates to the way we experience now.
I think about the future in the early morning when things are still quiet, before everything awakes and becomes fully visible. I think about what I want to accomplish that day or in the next project, and plan for the future. Dawn, the beginning of daybreak, is when I can focus on my own voice.
At dawn, I write, trying to capture flickering words and images with my mind's eye before they disappear. Usually those initial ideas are fragmented sentences and ambiguous drawings. They don't have definition yet. I collect them, and sometimes I find a connection among those words and images and something will come out of them. At dawn the view from my kitchen counter is dark blue, a color that can absorb other colors. It quickly changes as the sun rises higher and becomes pink, and the street noise becomes more audible. I move on to the practical morning routines.
I relate the anticipation for the future with creation and growth - elements that are undefined and incomplete yet alive and mutable.