Late afternoon rolls around and I find myself antsy, itching to create something.
Anything.
I grab a sketchbook last used in February 2019 and tape off the edges of a page to form a border. Then I grab a pen, park myself in front of my bedroom dresser, and impulsively start blind-contour drawing a ceramic bowl and carafe that sit on the dresser-top.
In no time, I'm off to the races, running full tilt, shifting from one location to another in my bedroom and office, simultaneously rotating the sketchbook as I go. I draw whatever catches my eye: a ceramic pencil holder, a timer, plants in a tin container, a notebook's spiral binding, a bottle of body lotion, part of a postcard—all on the same page. I look at the page only to give myself starting points. I'm a whirling dervish!
Until I slow way down.
I pivot from impulsive and improvisational to deliberate and focused, fusing all the linework from the frenetic blind-contour drawing with neurographic smoothing.
Eventually I step back, fascinated to see an abstract "circuit board" capturing on paper the pure pleasure of fully engaged process.
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Now what?
No idea.
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work in progress 9 x 12"; ink on drawing paper |
