The thick part of a brush-pen letter is not pressure. It is a narrow shape somebody filled in, and any pen in the house can draw it.
In 1704 a man counted the ways two floor tiles can sit together. He got 64. You need one ruler and one diagonal line.
A canopy is not a surface. It is a shape with holes in it, and the holes go in first. 21 trees in pen and ink, bark to foliage.
The hard edges of 1920s design were cut out of metal, not drawn by hand. Which is why a straight edge beats a steady hand every time.
Lino does not reward a careful line. It rewards a decision. 109 designs bold enough to survive the first cut, and one sheet to start from tonight.
A printmaker lost 188 sketchbooks in one afternoon and walked straight back out for 102 days. Winter hands over its shapes: here are 53 of them, in pen.
In 1900 the man who wrote Oz published a snowstorm recipe: cotton wool, mica and 4 pounds of goose-down. Fake frost was the product. 93 to trace.
13 people who drew for a living, 1 evening, and 39 cards that will not look like anybody else’s.
The hardest part of wood burning is not the burner. It is owning a line worth transferring — 95 designs, sorted by what tonight actually needs.
A tangle of lines is not a failed drawing. It is the only thing a blank page cannot give you: something for the eye to argue with.