I have fallen in love with my current work, with the research and the sketching and the final image constructed stroke by single hair-thin stroke across the landscape of an antique map or a forgotten letter. I think about the process constantly, and wake up each day with my fingers itching to pick up that ballpoint pen. Fifty-three years after my first paying art job, I think it’s safe to assume I won’t ever get tired of drawing. (Also, I will have to live to be 103 to draw all the birds on my list.)
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