With the first touch of my pencil tip to my paper I step into my work. The first mark of graphite on paper is like a tip toe into a room of silent observers. Where am I going? What have I gotten Myself into?
From one line to another my footsteps grow heavier and my pencil leads the way into a new adventure. An outline soon becomes and image and my feet have found the map. They now know where to take me, but how do they get me there.
Shades begin to fill in the space between the lines and my steady walk across the paper becomes an emersion into the piece itself. Swimming amongst the graphite and paper particles, I begin to see the piece from within.
A dark line here, a black spot there, looking out from within. I see the back side of my art. I am surrounded by wonder. The flatness of the paper begins to take on a new dimension, appearing round, but that is not possible. I see it. It is there.
Just around that corner of brilliant must be the total darkness of the back side of the moon. Beyond that I emerge to the surface, remove myself, and take a look from the outside in.
It's OK, but the shade in the corner of the eye is off. The corner of the lip is just a bit to high. The body color must be darker.
I dive back in. This time into deep water. Totally surrounded by my work. I can see nothing but the drawing around me as my pencil takes me deeper with each stroke. I stroke until my hands cramp, then shoot to the surface and extract myself once again.
It's done. My work is complete and I have no idea why I can do it.
I was not trained. I have no formal teaching. I just see it all there. A third dimension on a 2 dimensional object.
Why me?
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