I rediscovered my love for drawing. It just happened one day, I wasn’t doing anything particularly memorable. I was probably on the train or walking somewhere, probably, I can’t remember.
What makes people remember a single moment so well out of hundreds? Could it be that the feelings bound to particular memories are what a person cherishes most? Even more so than the actual memory of the time spent?
Anyway, I have revisited some moments for these drawings. Somewhere, during some time, these places were.
I have also rediscovered my impressive lack of patience and my unwillingness to finish anything, but this is not news for me, just something I don’t wish to address. I resultantly have pieces of unfinished drawings here and there, and if you look closely, you can even see where my determination dies in each sketch.