It’s sorta like a chain­saw isn’t it? This draw­ing was a response to the quiet min­i­mal­ism of the last few draw­ings. Felt like I had a whole new energy mov­ing. Chaos controlled.  

I had to make another.

My line. Float­ing. Reach­ing for the sky. Words are not necessary.

Another won­der­fully ener­getic line. Dancing. I love mak­ing danc­ing lines. Some­times my hand just wants to skate across the sur­face. I dis­cov­ered that I could make these crazy spin­ning things. They make me laugh.

Still mak­ing fine springy lines. They dash across the sur­face. They are light and ener­getic and I love how the width and spac­ing are chang­ing based on the speed with which I draw them.

If I had to think of myself as a line. This is the line I would be. An elas­tic dotted line.

Exper­i­men­ta­tion with­out con­cern about out­come in any sense of the word can be messy. But one lit­tle mark, one lit­tle inter­ac­tion can present itself as a new vocabulary.