There are fingertips padding keyboards all around me and I contribute to the plastic rhythm as I write this. I'm at that not-quite-lunchtime stage of the day, where I absolutely stop all productive work and basically zone out for a good 1o minutes.
I've learned a lot here. And I know that the book world is where I'm meant to be, in one aspect or another. But sometimes I miss the drawing I used to do for architectural projects. I am in love with the evolution of a hand sketch to a sophisticated computer graphic to a built environment, and the ability of a set of drawings to not only specify the accurate placement of steel studs, but to also be artful in its own ink-on-paper way.
I believe in art with a purpose; an expression of creativity that also communicates an idea.
I believe that form follows function.
I used to draw restored facades of heritage buildings and contemporary living spaces for forward-thinking urbanites; designs that in some way modified an existing urban landscape. Now I draw cats playing instruments on school buses and mice performing ballet recitals to The Blue Danube Waltz. It might be that I also believe in art for art's sake, or perhaps that I enjoy the visual telling of a story. Or maybe the whole while I was drafting up plans and sections there was a child inside me, just dying to get out, and asking me not to think so hard.