2009-07-22 11:48 am
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I start with a blank page. I look at it. I mull over that plain blank sheet. All that white-space and the plainness of the page delights me.
I notice the pencil poised over the pure white landscape. The dark sharp point, that hard-black piece of lead, hovering over the landscape like an eagle; waiting – waiting to make its mark.
Once that pencil touches the paper, something comes to life – starting from a single touch and point, expanding over the sheet. Simple strokes – lines and curves – forming words or images, sometimes words of images or images of words.
Sometimes it makes sense to start with a blank page. Yes, it does…
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