The appearance of tone is vagueness imposed by the intellect,
drawing with a single line is straight talk.
The continuous line is flexible,
the line shredded is rigid.
Every drawing is born unto its own,
but their makers lay claim to it.
An idea recorded on a sheet is not a drawing,
drawing is what precedes thinking.
Drawing does not fine tune our tools of expression,
but transforms language into a new quality.
In drawing the line struggles for self-definition,
But what truly matters is the space born between the lines.
Lines of exploration always fall far from one another in drawing,
they start a new drawing within a drawing.
Drawing manners can be mastered,
but the scale of a drawing only comes through inner strength.
One must tear up one’s approach to drawing at every new stage of life,
or else all the next age will add is tone.
The fate of every drawing is decided at the point
where the pen first touches the paper.
Drawing is energy,
the skeleton of forces that precede the idea.
Ideas are always preceded by a feeling
which is captured by the line in the timelessness of the moment.
The one-line drawing prevents intellectual excess,
it teaches judgement through the purging fire of concentration.
When a drawing is denser than the meaning it conveys,
it is no longer valuable.
At one end of the line is desire,
at the other the intellect.
A genuine drawing can be read from all directions,
its content is infinite discovery.
Line drawing sharpens inner vision,
gives shape to the light of the mind.
If the line is taken away from the architect,
it unravels into poetry.