I love writing. Not just the stories that words can tell, but also the form of words, the pictures, the arrangements, the poetry, the act of putting pen to page or to block of wood, or to skin, or of putting your finger in the sand while sitting on the beach and making your mark, and then watching it wash away. I suppose the truth is that my greatest passion is for the expression of form. One line in the right place can alter the absolute meaning of a thing. Which brings me to my Squiggles.

I’ve loved drawing squiggles since I was a kid. The chaos of it. The light spaces  and the dark spaces, the curve and the line and the dot. When I do it right it teaches me things, and when I do it wrong that teaches me things too.

Letters developed out of squiggles. The imagination of those early writers must have been boundless, their creativity immeasurable. Their marketing skills out of this world. How they managed to convince everyone around them that one mark made a  particular sound, or had a particular meaning, and then do the same in culture after culture, the world over, is amazing to me.

I digress. (I love that word too.)

The bottom line: I adore squiggling. I always have. So this is my space to put a few of those squiggles out there.


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