REDISCOVERING THE LINE: THE RETURN TO PAPER

After more than 40 years, my hand has found its way back to the raw, unfiltered power of the pen, the pencil, the whisper of paper beneath my touch. The soft resistance of charcoal, the quiet erasure of rubber, the delicate friction of graphite against the surface—all sensations I had almost forgotten, yet never truly lost.

In a world that moves at the speed of light, where screens glow and brushes click, I rediscovered the rhythm of the hand, the pulse of the line, the weight of creation measured in strokes and smudges.

And so, almost unknowingly, a collection was born. Dozens upon dozens of drawings, each one connected like a fil rouge, weaving together memory, emotion, and instinct. There is no undo button here, no digital perfection—only the purity of the process, the dance between control and surrender, the quiet dialogue between mind and material.

This is not nostalgia. It is a return to something primal, something essential—a reconnection with the very act of making, with the magic of a simple line that can become anything.

Because sometimes, in order to move forward, we must go back to where it all began.