I told my mother today that I was happy because I was drawing again. I should have been prepared for the response. 'And what are you going to draw?' she asked. 'Well, anything, everything and nothing,' I said. 'I just want to draw and to get better at drawing.' She looked impatient. 'Yes, but what are you going to do with it?" she insisted. I gave her a look. 'I mean what are you going to draw?" Again, I said that what I drew wasn't important. But she was really getting agitated. 'Well, do you want to do something like that?' she asked, indicating her abstract painting from Target. "You can do something like that for my wall."I don't think so.
No thanks, I said quite firmly. I don't want to do anything for anyone's wall. I just want to draw quietly for myself, for the act of it and for the peace it brings. And it is good to know that.
I came home and made this quick sketch of my husband at the computer on one of our very, very narrow antique chairs.
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