Inking

I am back in my studio, furiously inking. I’ve been scared to get back into it, for some mysterious reason, but with a brand new windsor newton (series 7, #2) brush in my hand, a large kosher dill pickle jar full of gray water, and a rag made from a brown and pink tie-dyed shirt, I forget to be scared. In fact, I am black fingered and happy.

This is Katia, a terrifyingly delightful mess that I resembled, not exactly in body, but certainly in spirit at age 11. I think if you look in her pockets, you are likely to find crayon nubs, rocks, plastic “gemstones”, and half-melted candy.