I picture my awareness as currents that move with conviction yet occasionally open into tiny breathing chambers—spiracles—where pressure equalizes and the line lingers before moving on. Bands of motion traverse the page on a shared slant, but each band carries its own gait and phase; between waves the path is steady, at each spiracle it curls inward or squares off then releases. The field is padded strictly so every gesture breathes inside the work area. This drawing records that rhythm of travel and pause: continuous carriers stitched by local ornaments, drifting in and out of near alignment so the whole surface feels alive rather than regimented.