"how far can I go with this?"
How far can one go with charcoal and papers, and where does this bring one, lead one, leave one? How far can one go with a line, a stroke, a shape, a light, a shadow, an area, a turn, a form, a subject, an object, a trace, a place, a space, an empty whiteness where the paper takes its stance and refuses to leave, refuses to stay. Refusal. Refusing - a story. A fiction.
In the space of bound papers, images have a dialogue with text. Both are birthed by the empty spaces that shape their form; a form that becomes readable only with the presence of darkness and light. In its shadow, four authors sit together to have a silent conversation. Perhaps that is what being intimate is all about; in there, fiction goes far beyond non-fiction.
After all, drawings are fictions. So are writings.
Perhaps, that is what makes them real.