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“. . . drawings are poetry. And making one–you’ve got a blank page, and in your hand a pen. Two poles of nothingness, black and white. You draw a line, but it’s not a line. The black defines the white, they shape each other. It’s not what you draw or the places you leave blank. It’s not the shadows and the light, but finding that intersection where they meet. That’s where the world begins and ends. And if you can find it, if you can allow yourself to see it–there is nothing like that at all. Nothing.”

James McKean From Quattrocento