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Description
I wanted to illustrate my favorite passage in one of my favorite books of all time, All The King's Men by Robert Penn Warren.

the magic goes something like this...

"She made the dive. I knew it was a good one from the very instant she left the board, but I jumped to my feet, just the same, and stood at the edge of the float, holding my breath, my eyes fixed on her flight. Just as she entered the water, clean as a whistle, I plunged in too, diving deep and drawing down with my stroke. I saw the silvery tangle and the trail of bubbles and the glimmer of her legs and arms in the dark water when she turned. She had gone down deep. Not that she had to go down deep, for she could whisk out shallow if she wanted. But that time-- and other times-- she went in deep, as if to continue the flight as long as possible through the denser medium. I pulled deep and met her as she began to rise. I put my arms around her waist and drew her to me and put our lips together. She let her arms trail down, loose, not making a motion, while I held her body to me and pressed her face back and our legs trailed down together as we rose slowly and waveringly through the blackness of the water and the silver of ascending bubles. We rose very slowly , ar at least it seemed very slowly, and I was holding my breath so long there was a pain in my chest and a whirling dizziness in my head, but the pain and the dizziness had passed the line over into a rapture like that I had had in my room the night I had first taken her to a movie and had stopped on the way home. I thought we would never reach the surface, we rose so slowly.
Then we were there, with the moonlight brittle and fractured on the water all about our eyes. We hung there together, sitll not breathing, for another moment, then I released her and we fell apart to float on our backs and gaspingly draw the air in and stare up at the high, whirling, star-strung sky."

Description
I wanted to illustrate my favorite passage in one of my favorite books of all time, All The King's Men by Robert Penn Warren.

the magic goes something like this...

"She made the dive. I knew it was a good one from the very instant she left the board, but I jumped to my feet, just the same, and stood at the edge of the float, holding my breath, my eyes fixed on her flight. Just as she entered the water, clean as a whistle, I plunged in too, diving deep and drawing down with my stroke. I saw the silvery tangle and the trail of bubbles and the glimmer of her legs and arms in the dark water when she turned. She had gone down deep. Not that she had to go down deep, for she could whisk out shallow if she wanted. But that time-- and other times-- she went in deep, as if to continue the flight as long as possible through the denser medium. I pulled deep and met her as she began to rise. I put my arms around her waist and drew her to me and put our lips together. She let her arms trail down, loose, not making a motion, while I held her body to me and pressed her face back and our legs trailed down together as we rose slowly and waveringly through the blackness of the water and the silver of ascending bubles. We rose very slowly , ar at least it seemed very slowly, and I was holding my breath so long there was a pain in my chest and a whirling dizziness in my head, but the pain and the dizziness had passed the line over into a rapture like that I had had in my room the night I had first taken her to a movie and had stopped on the way home. I thought we would never reach the surface, we rose so slowly.
Then we were there, with the moonlight brittle and fractured on the water all about our eyes. We hung there together, sitll not breathing, for another moment, then I released her and we fell apart to float on our backs and gaspingly draw the air in and stare up at the high, whirling, star-strung sky."