Most of the time there is an idea when starting a new work. They may come from all over; a sentence, a view in the street, a song lyric, a previous artwork. It can be anything.
This piece however, here was none. A doodle that turned into part of the edge. Which grew. Then shapes started to emerge. But I still did not know where it was going. The outer edges filled with details. And then. At the very last, the "divers" presented themselves and it all came together.
No idea. No meaning. An organically grown piece of which I still have no idea where it came from.
Shellack ink and bistre, the moot of burnt nutshells on heavyweight paper. The biste in the center part was applied in thin layers consisting of four colours.
inks and bisters. pen and washed