a dark marker will not lift. start with the palest grey, build the shadow side in two or three passes, and leave the highlight as bare paper. the first dark stroke is a decision, not a sketch.

marker over wet ink pulls the line sideways and turns it grey. count to sixty, or draw the ink in the morning and colour after coffee. the line stays crisp and the colour stays clean.

on thin paper the marker bleeds through and buckles the sheet. on heavy cotton paper it sits where it lands. the good paper costs more, but every drawing on the cheap paper cost more in the end.

a flat blue sky looks like a wall. fade the cyan to almost nothing at the bottom and the mountain has room to stand. one marker, one lighter marker, and a bit of patience.

straight from the tube it is a warning sign. a pinhead of black-paint and a little water and it becomes a stone wall in the afternoon. write the mix on the page so tomorrow's tobler can find it again.

long lines come from the shoulder, not the wrist. when i lock the wrist and swing the whole arm, the awning comes out in one stroke. short lines can be wrist. roofs and horizons cannot.

when six sheets are pinned up i look at all of them and see none of them. one drawing on the wall, looked at for a day, tells me exactly what to do next. the rest wait in the drawer.