Untitled #7 c. 1980s

Here's a pale drawing on paper made by Joel Fisher, and it seems to me like such a generous and vulnerable thing. Looking at the image, I imagine him in his studio, hunched over a table, gently coaxing a form into being. The line is so tentative, like a thread connecting one thought to the next. I can see the ghost of the artist's hand moving across the surface, feeling its way through the unknown. The drawing appears to be a single, continuous line that meanders across the page, creating a sense of movement and flow. A gesture that captures the elusive nature of thought itself. It reminds me a bit of Cy Twombly, in its embrace of imperfection and its celebration of the handmade.