Thursday, February 02, 2006
When I have a few moments to spare, I draw. It's particularly good for those moments when you are waiting for someone to arrive, or something to happen. So, there I was, playing some more with the ideas I talked about in an earlier post, the idea of drawing with letters. Until I found myself wondering what it would be like to invent a language of my own. It would be an intuitive language, I thought. It would be written in response to the emotions, and as such, could start anywhere on the page, go in any direction and change direction whenever the mood changed.
Oh, yes, I thought. That language already exists. It's called painting.