graphite kyla You compress my charcoal, babe. 010726 ... tender_square "name a famous person you admire," she instructed, and i scribbled the first face that came to mind, though the question initially stumped me. later, she passed out photocopies, rudimentary in their starkness of black and white. we made a sandwich of paper: watercolour, followed by a recycled sheet rubbed in graphite, topped with the celebrity mug staring up at us. we pressed hard lead along the equator of contrasts, the residue of carbon sediment in the middle leaving a trail atop the porous page. this was our stencil. we stripped two layers of pulp from our desks and were left with a ghostly outline. i chose cobalt and phthalo green. "take your brush and paint water in the spaces of your image where the black would be," she said. we were layering without colour, creating glisten. we were to tap one shade into what had been wetted, then the other, allowing them to run of their own volition. i began with the sweep of hair, worked my way up to her upper lip, her nose in profile, her intent eyes. the guide of my grid was lost; i painted her fountainous bangs freehand with a detailed brush. joni mitchell's face became a psychedelic swirl of sea and sky, meeting and melding, with the wispiness of clouds. 230120 what's it to you? who go blather from