Mon raison pourquoi je suis qui ce je suis

June 11, 2008 § Leave a comment

I have lived my life by my pencil and experienced life through my drawings. My friends who are photographers have the ability to view the world in black and white like their photographs, and my friends who are in theater view the world as a stage and constantly break out in song or monologues. I view the world as a series of drawings all telling a never-ending story that begins with a single line.

When I was five, I ran into walls, accidentally broke seven mirrors, and received scrapes and bruises from chasing down boys on the playground because they made my friends cry. My mother could easily transform me into her perfect little angel by handing me a pencil and some pieces of paper. I would sit quietly for hours and happily draw my little girls with to many fingers and no noses– I thought noses were ugly. But as I grew older, I never had any aspirations to be an artist or cartoonist; I just considered drawing my identity.

There was a time in my life when I tried to dismiss drawing as a passing hobby, but I would always end up returning to my pencil and paper whenever I needed an outlet for my emotions. For me, my fail-safe emergency mechanism was: fight, flight, or draw. I let a couple of strokes of graphite or ink speak for me when I lacked the knowledge of what words to say.

Drawing is my second language.

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