"Do it on my drawing," I said.
"Never," she told me. It's your world, it belongs to you."..... "Drawing is what you see of the world, truly see."....
"And sometimes what you see is so deep in your head you're not even sure of what you're seeing. But when it's down there on paper, and you look at it, really look, you'll see the way things are."
I frowned. "Look at a picture one way and you'll see one thing," I said. "Look again and you might see something else. That's what the Old Man..." I shook my head. "A friend of mine said that once."
...."But that's the world isn't it? You have to keep looking to find the truth."
"And something else," she said. "You, the artist, can't hide from the world, because you're putting yourself down there too."
".... your soul is right there in front of you." She pointed to the sketch I'd drawn... (p.45)
"You're going to be something, you and that language you speak on paper." She drew her other hand waving. "I love what you have to say, Hollis Woods." (p.46)
In my mind was a picture of Beatrice brushing her hair off her forehead. "Drawing is a language," she had said. "You have to learn to speak it." (p. 148)
"Sometimes we learn from our own drawings; things are there that we thought we didn't know." (p.150)
