Often a drawing starts as a self portrait and sometimes it unintentionally ends as one. A drawing exercise becomes an absurd illustration. Perhaps sometimes a drawing is just a drawing and I like to think about myself

As I created further a story unfolded, I was unaware it was the story untold in my train of thought. The pictures I experimented with saw a glimpse of my brain in the instance, something I often feel I should’ve appreciated more in a visual diary.

Finally the sweet release of making something, a book that keeps me sane, I don’t need to censor or think about who’s looking anymore it’s just me