Liminal

I drew this nearly a year ago. It’s still the best thing I’ve drawn. It was part of a period of months where I just drew every now and then. Drawing in doubt, in worry, in pleasure, dread, joy. Drawing in shock that I was even doing it, having told myself when I was eleven that I couldn’t draw and shouldn’t try. Drawing with the memory in mind of the sad smile of the art teacher that day when she saw my attempts to draw a tree from real life when I didn’t know what I was doing and didn’t want to ask for help.

Anyway. I was on a plane from Ibiza to London, reading a copy of the New Statesman. There was a beautiful photograph showing a person walking along a shadowing road in the dusk. It was so arresting. Something in me made me pick up my iPad stylus and start my own version. By the time the plane landed, it was done.

There’s lots I could now change, things where I wonder why I made a particular decision. But let it stand.