Keith Jarrett once said of his solo piano improvisations, "I have to find a way for my hands to start the concert without me." For me, that statement was a revelation, a bell that's never stopped resonating.
Last night, I was ill. When I rediscover this drawing years from now (probably looking for something else) I won't remember how I felt when I sat down at the table to work a little. Or how much better I felt a couple hours later, how the day no longer seemed wasted, because I'd at least managed this much.
I don't know what this drawing is, or represents, or may become. But I like it so far.