Sidewalk Chalk Drawing

Past posts drop farther and farther down the vertical ramp of the blog, disappearing like sidewalk chalk drawings. One critic walks around the drawing, viewing it carefully, as if visiting a gallery or museum, another walks over it, disgusted with art. The sidewalk artist moves up to a clear space of concrete, or draws over yesterday’s washed out drawing, unconcerned that masterpiece is today jettisoned artwork.

During the Day

During the day, the drawing grows hot, an illuminated manuscript. The artist takes a break, asks for an ice-cycle stick, kicks back on the grass, considers the remaining supply of chalk, eyes the blank concrete spaces up the block.

Night Coolness

At night, the drawing cools off. The artist tells a story of a child with a blue cat on concrete.


          1. the rain washed them away, but the memories are here to stay. Or perhaps the rain washed them away and they found their way to the clouds where now we can see white elephants, alligators, bears and the beautiful rainbow.

    1. Today rain came; outside now the air is wet with rain falling. I’ll take a look at what’s left of the sidewalk drawing tomorrow, but probably it will have been washed away. Fleeting, float, swim.

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