The first time I tried drawing with a ballpoint pen on dark linen, I quickly understood that it would not be simple. The fibres swallowed the lines; the ink could not leave a clean trace as it did on paper. I worked for hours, yet it looked as though nothing had happened.
More than once, I thought the path would lead nowhere. But whenever I was ready to stop, the same thought returned: try once more, add another layer of color.
Line upon line, color over color. Traces that had once been invisible slowly began to surface.
When the color finally grew out from the depth of the canvas, it declared its natural difference from paper—deeper, weightier, and more distant.
The canvas series began with this refusal to yield. I pushed the ballpoint pen beyond its familiar ground and reminded myself once again: keep moving forward; there is no need to be afraid.