A lesson in drawing

Now such pondering seemed to border on the absurd. Why was so much thought given to such a number and why was sixteen such significant? I could have pulled the number two out of my hat or sixty-eight. I am sure there was some significance there. Looking at the number two brought up all sorts of things significant to religion, sports, arts, mathematics and a played a significant role in ones life albeit discreetly.

Thinking about numbers seemed insane, especially when I had no clue as to where I was. It wasn’t dark anymore, there was just nothing to define. It was as if I was staring at a blank page of white paper. I was confused, deeply confused and I couldn’t stop thinking. All things banal were forming in my head. How does one come to terms with a death in the family? How does one even prepare for such an event. It was head scratching stuff. I tried to lift my arm, but there was no sign of an arm. I looked down, there was no sign of feet or legs. Perhaps the only thing that existed was my subconscious, the only thing that I had now were my thoughts. Such an idea sounded insane but I was stuck in such a situation. I tried reasoning with myself, tried to come up with a logical explanation as to how I got into such a state, but such thoughts fizzled out before I could even latch onto one idea or reasonable explanation.

What was one to do, when nothing existed but ones thoughts? I could draw.

Draw…with what?

I had no hands as far as I could see no pen or pencils. Did I even have a head or a discernable face? It was all quite a struggle to get ones head around. Well if I was still thinking I should have at some container that my thoughts filled, a head is the most suitable container for thoughts. I thought about other containers like a bright red coke can, or a tin of sardines, perhaps a nice cored apple would be a good place for my thoughts to stew.

So the only option was to draw? I never learnt how to draw, of course I scribbled a stick figure here and there that was it. I thought for a second if I was to draw something what would I draw, would it have to make sense? Could a draw a horse’s head that came attached to a bicycle and had a tail as a rear. Would I draw flock of flying pumpkins who were battling it out for supremacy against their flying turnip cousins in the sky? I could give it a try. I looked into nothingness and thought, long and hard about what it meant to draw, about shapes and sizes, about colours.

What is drawing? I thought for a second and then decided that when one draws a writing tool has to be used to make marks on a certain space or apparatus. How does one teach themselves to draw when they have never learnt, it was a tiring concept, one that I could do without thinking about.

No thinking for a while. That would do some good. So I just stared into the empty space.…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

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