One line parallels another, and before I know it I’ve filled a page.
I start in the middle of the page, usually. Then the lines accrete upon themselves, like barnacles in a mosh pit. Sometimes I figure out in the middle of drawing that oh, it’s an eye. Or this might be a kite. In the noodle below, the bird’s perch was what I started with, not knowing it would be a perch, or that there would be a bird. The bird was the last to emerge.
With wider nibs, thicker lines and darker inks, the process remains relaxing, but the mood of the drawing changes, and becomes almost sinister.
If I’d drawn this with my left hand, it would have been perfectly sinister.
