Identity

When I was younger, and pencil strokes interested me, I was in love with faces, shadows and vague shapes. Most faces are geometrical, some more symmetrical than the others. Here I find a hexagon and there a square, an ellipse and sometimes even a perfect circle. Cherub peaks in from time to time. Outlines of faces are easier to copy, to transplant onto paper. But eyebrows are elusive. They change dimensions with the toss of the head, a turn of the face. You catch 'em right and you have your face. You have bundled the emotion of the moment into a heapful of lines and strokes. Its the key to immortality. Men are more challenging that way, untamed shapes and surprising clefts demand careful lines and patience. Nowadays they tell interesting stories, in my green note books, sneaking into the margins, consorting with reluctant NotesToMyself, incomplete ThingsToDo and definite TickMarks.