har-ish

I think I got a little tired of looking for meaning in everything I draw.
Usually, I put pen to paper, something emerges, and my mind immediately starts asking what it is, what it reminds me of and what story I can attach to it. This time I decided to do the opposite.

I wanted to cut myself loose.
So I picked up the pen with my wrong hand, my left hand, and decided that it was going to do most of the drawing. Partly because I wanted to see what would happen, and partly because I thought I’d give my brain a little neurobics. Make it do something it isn’t accustomed to doing.
The result was wonderfully awkward.

The lines wandered. They wobbled. They collided. Some went somewhere I hadn’t intended them to go. And for once, I didn’t try to rescue them or turn them into anything recognisable.
There was no object hiding in there. No anecdote waiting to emerge. No meaning that needed to be excavated.

Just strings.

And strangely, letting my left hand take over was incredibly relaxing. Perhaps because I wasn’t trying to make something good, I wasn’t trying to make something mean anything either.
Maybe that’s my version of String Theory.
Not a theory about what everything means.
Just a bunch of strings, set loose, with the occasional neurobic detour.
For once, I wasn’t looking for meaning. I was enjoying the absence of it.