One day I went into my studio, order filled with anxiety and emotion. I couldn’t process my feelings verbally or visually, malady so in a frustrated moment, I began to scribble. The racing thoughts made my hand work very quickly and fervently. I worked with my right hand until it was too tired, then switched to my left.
After a long while, the emotions and thoughts diffused, and what was left was a tangle of lines. Because I switched hands, back and forth, the natural arch of the gesture left a small space at the bottom, which looked like the perfect space for a face. Assuming I’d never show these drawings to anyone, I drew a small self-portrait there and stepped back from the drawing. I had not drawn like that before. Ever. I was always very controlled and careful. It felt exhilarating to let go!