After a whole summer
Rambling mindlessly, wandering for small details along the streets,
Stopping by for coffee in cool places,
Searching for magic tips through inspiring and various artists...
(For example, I discovered Chagall as if it was the first time I were seeing his work although I wasn't really fond of his paintings...)
Doubting and doubting again about my eventual skill...
Each time I begin a new drawing I feel I could waste it totally and so easily.
Then at one point I feel I shouldn't add anything even if I'm still uncertain about the result.
It's such a fragile balance, that's what's makes it so exciting... As if, each time, it was my first time.