Sometimes I feel like Jack Dawson. Well, a less-talented, less perverted, female version of him…
I can travel the world penniless, only with the clothes on my back and a pen and some papers.
I have never tried to draw with charcoal. I have never tried to draw a naked woman. Or man, for that matter.
My medium of choice is my simple sketch book, or a plain A4 sized paper. My art is usually done with a black felt-tip pen, or a ball-point, or a pencil. Nothing special.
My drawings are not detailed. I don’t have the patience to sketch and shade the angle of a nose just right. They’re more abstract. Simple. Meaningful.
Here are a few specimen, photographed badly. I and cameras just don’t get along, although that is another matter for another time.
And so when I view my drawings again, I feel ashamed to include myself under the header of ‘Artist’.
And judging by the picture quality, I certainly can not make it as a photographer either!
I believe my true calling lies in writing. To weave a web of words is my specialty. To paint a picture with letters and dots and commas is my art.
And I am content. I am an artist, my medium is paper. My pen is my sword. Sometimes I might draw with them, but words will always be my passion.