Leaftree

Short lines pile up into a black mass. The more they gather on the paper, the clearer the form becomes. There is no outline. At the edge of the form the lines do not stop; they scatter outward.

That line is short. A line drawn straight comes out round. With the pen in my mouth, my body becomes a compass. I pass over the same place again and again. A line drawn in a different direction becomes texture. This is how the grain of the form appears.

The texture stands out. This form has one color. The center is dense; the outside is sparse. The density where the lines gather holds the drawing up.

I plant lines on the paper. One tree stands as a single leaf. Lines pass over it, and I look again and again at where they have been. I become the first person to watch my own drawing.