I’m obviously lacking the skills, but there was a lot of ambition behind this drawing.
It was a sunny afternoon somewhere in May. I spent more than a week locked in my room back in Linksfield. There was no space to drop a pen on the floor. My bed was covered in paper and I couldn’t really open the door because of the pencils and charcoal lying everywhere.
Every single cell of my body wanted to end the struggle. I wanted to draw something good enough to get me to the next stage. Simple as that.
From the series of 7 drawings I’ve done that week, this is the closest one to my heart.