The great thing about art and life is traversing through space with nothing more than a tendrils thought. There, the soul of your drawing can float about a space, fluid and be all encompassing. A drawing’s soul rarely gets to rise up and play. But when it does, it gets to reach endlessly through space, fluidly and without consent. That is what makes drawing worth the effort. Unfurling oneself onto a blank page is always endlessly communicative… should the artist be wanting to communicate.