August, 2019

“I venture out on a beautiful golden evening with the full intention of drawing for the first time in years. Everything is perfect. Too perfect. I find I cannot even begin to deconstruct such beauty as I fear it would undermine the singular nature of the moment. Even writing cannot take you or I or anyone to this place. Not a word, not a smell, not ink on a page can best the wonder of the world. I write when I cannot draw and only draw when I cannot bare to think.”

[Extract from summer 2019 sketchbook writings]