Monday, February 14, 2005


Occasionally, despite the sheer stupidity that comes with teen years, kids can really surprise and even inspire me. A co-worker shared an excerpt from a writing project that her 14 year old daughter wrote and I found it metaphorically inspirational enough to put up in my office. I decided to share it here too:

"James, did you feed Koneko?"
"Beth, could you throw a load of laundry in for me before I get back?"
"Sure! Hey, where's Rob?"
"He's in my room playing X-box!"
"Oh, Okay! I'm gonna draw for a while, okay?"

The session of calling from room to room ends, and I walk in my room and close the door, sinking to the floor in my favorite spot against the bed to draw. A few pencil sketches are set out in front of me, ready to be traced over in art pens.

Some people think it's odd that most of my artwork is in black ink. Most other artists use watercolors or markers, and, okay, I do use colored pencil sometimes, but ink is my medium. The way the black stuff flows out of the tip to form a perfect dark line, and how I can vary the pressure to make that line thicker or's enjoyable. I like the results.

Another thing about ink is that it can't be erased. You just have to trust your hand not to make a wrong mark or spill the stuff all over the place. Any mistakes made become part of the picture - you just have to work around it. Sometimes you have to start all over, and sometimes it makes the drawing better than you intended. That's just the way it goes.

I smile and start to draw.