Meanwhile the center stiffens, layered with bones and holding things together.

Drawing is un-explainably rewarding when it becomes about crafting a story. The hope is that by using line and color one can somehow get close to a sense of how the universe might work, if only for an instant.

It never holds though,  it dissipates so easily. Each time I try to move closer, and what comes is an iteration of the ideas –clashing, fighting and philosophizing. In the end you get somewhere. You look back and try to figure out where you are.