Trying not to aim

Most of my drawings begin with very little pre-concieved notion of what the end product will be. Or if they do, it tends to stray from anything real. I've never been too interested in drawing what's already there. I'd rather find something I've never seen at the end of a picture. I'm particularly enjoying doing my recent pen drawings (there's always a slight panic at some point within an Emily pic, that she won't quite be Emily). It's a lovely feeling to let something come naturally and then find something you recognise at the end of it. even if what you recognise is just a feeling.



i'm tentatively calling it "The chicken-tree-faced dog before the egg". I have little idea what it really is. But it feels right.

Here's some words from others;
"I play as a child and I give myself the privilege of complete freedom and spontaneity in my creations but with the advantage of the knowledge that an adult may have." Vanessa Donoso Lopez (whose unrestrained creativity I'm often in awe).

" "Could you try not aiming so much?" he asked me, still standing there. "If you hit him when you aim, it'll just be luck." He was speaking, communicating, and yet not breaking the spell. I then broke it. Quite deliberately. "How can it be luck if I aim?" I said back to him, not loud (despite the italics) but with rather more irritation in my voice than I was actually feeling. He didn't say anything for a moment but simply stood balanced on the curb, looking at me, I knew imperfectly, with love. "Because it will be," he said. "You'll be glad if you hit his marble — Ira's marble — won't you? Won't you be glad? And if you're glad when you hit somebody's marble, then you sort of secretly didn't expect too much to do it. So there'd have to be some luck in it, there'd have to be slightly quite a lot of accident in it." " - J.D. Salinger