I sit infront of my sketchbook, staring at the blank page. I draw a spiral, small and waverly in the corner of the page. Where are my images that burn through my hand to cool on the page? All I have in my head is the dull throb of a beastly few days at work seeping out my neck and shoulders.
Today, it is unlikely I will have something to scan. I think I’m going to sit and stare at this page until I fall asleep. But no worries, this respit I’m sure will rekindle my desire for drawing by scaring away the beast of sleep.
I am rambling.
Take care all, we will rock their socks tomorrow! All of us!