It has been sometime since I've done an ink brush drawing.
My old Kuretake brush lost its tip a couple of months back, and
I finally put on the replacement brush. I should have done it sooner.
Last night was a reminder of how seductive a simple line can be.
A liquid line that blooms and whithers, like flowers and smoke,
a midnight sky and forgotten dreams.
This is a heart that pumps ink.
Follow its rhythm, feel it course through the veins.
Let it out as simple black marks on paper.
Let it live and breath.