A hand comes to rest there and presses the tip of an instrument to the blank surface. The hand moves and behind the instrument emerges a trail of graphite, of charcoal, of ink, across the void. A mark is made and a new universe is created.
Drawing is that simple and that profound.
It can be as crude as a slash across a page, and yet even the most primitive scrawl has an uncanny power to describe the world around us. In just a few basic strokes, it can suggest a landscape, a dwelling, an animal, a human, a face. Although the same quality may be accomplished with a brush and paint, drawing remains the more primal mode of expression. For all its roughness, however, drawing is capable of exceptional intimacy. That can be felt in the contact of hand and paper, the flesh of the palm meeting the surface of the artwork and brushing against it as the instrument of creation is moved.