This magical spot at Point No Point Resort haunts me, so I tried to infuse the drawing with some of that lingering impression. In spirit I've spent the week back there, as I wanted to communicate the implied, unspoken language of that unique place. I understood the terrain very well, as the sea and I share the joy of stroking minerals smooth. If I was made of salt water (which I guess I am), and had thousands of years to kill (not sure if I do), this is how I would sculpt the basalt cliffs.
I can't help but feel the drawing was conscious of me, even as I sprayed it with fixative.
Pastel and conte on graytone paper, with gouache, black carbon ink block and of course, white gel pen.