From the days of making stick figures and bugs allover the house, drawing has always been my first language. I have an innate love of line and I understand the vocabulary of drawing much more so than that of written English. Most of my drawing takes place without pencil or paper.   I am constantly drawing with only my eyes as I follow the unique contours and proportions of everything in view. I often see images in my mind while reading that are often more vivid than illustrated pages.

I draw daily and have for many years. Usage truly is the only way to learn a language after all. You may get a few of the ABCs of drawing from a teacher or book, but you will only get the other ninety-five percent from doing it. Drawing is a very difficult language to learn and can take twenty years of daily practice to become somewhat fluent. To be clear, I am not talking about a photorealism kind of drawing which is nothing more than a technical trick that a camera can do equally as well. I am talking about creating an image that is much more than a likeness, one that pulses with the energy and life of the subject, revealing to the viewer its inner essence.

Drawing is a dialog between the line and the white of the paper, a conversation about the subject and the will of the maker. Sometimes it feels like a waltz, other times like a tango and you never know which it will be till you get lost in the music of the moment. You always know the drawing is finished when the music stops.

Drawing is my most valuable tool. It is the simplest requiring only a pencil or pen and some surface. It is capable of shorthand sketching to make visual notes as quickly as the ideas flow or making a finished statement filled with expressive power.

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