Saturday 18th July, Porte de Versailles, Paris.
On my way to work, I pass this street every morning.
The shadows of the morning excite my desire to draw. They are dense, black and deep.
One of the things that I will always remain faithful to in life is that I always want to do what I cannot do. I could sit down and start drawing. Unfortunately I have responsibilities in the linear and rational world and I have to respect some schedules. Every good draftman knows that time does not exist when he begins to draw. A singularity occurs in space-time and it contracts. The act of drawing is a passage to another dimension of reality. It is like crossing a door and entering a universe that is not governed by the same rules.
It is the universe of observation.
Observe. Observe carefully all the visual details, all the textures, all the ornaments and the play of light.
By observing, time stands still, consciousness rises.
I sat at a table in the charming restaurant on the terrace and started drawing.
After a time, people on the other tables felt curiosity. The density of the draftsman produces attraction. The conversations at the surrounding tables were diluted. Everyone was watching how the drawing progressed.
The maitre, a charming gentleman, realized it. He came over and brought me a mille feuilles with mascarpone and peach jam.
I kept drawing.
At the end, the maitre told me that my drawing reminded him of Miles Hyman's. I didn't know him.
It was a good afternoon. The draftsman's magic reappeared, the space curved again.
Hope you like.
Have a happy Sunday.
