My Line

“No matter how hard it rains, no matter how washed out the road is, even if the puddles are up to your throat — trust the rut you’re in. It will lead you out. Follow it. Just keep going.” Russian folk epigram. Years later, the war started. I had to leave Moscow. The road was long, but my compass was clear: drawing. This book is made of sketchbooks filled in Jerusalem. I changed. My drawing changed too. It became my companion, my shelter, my love, my obsession, my strength, my wound, my mind and my heart.