Sometimes I just like to sit and draw… to develop my cast of characters – horse trees, ponies, dandelion clocks, cats… Simply drawing, developing fluency, like a pianist running fingers up and down the scales, faster faster…
I have draws full of drawings. A hoard of used paper hidden in the dark.
Is drawing a way to withdraw from the world?
I would like to write a story to illustrate, drawing upon my cast of characters for the narrative. I tried to write two during lockdown. Two friends who read them were disparaging. ‘Saccharine!’ was one comment. I cried for my characters, then withdrew from the world I’d inhabited in my mind, never yet returning.
Maybe all art is simply a way of entertaining ourselves?
Does anything exist if no-one sees it? A philosophical and quantum question!
Do people exist if they are alone?