I love the way redaction allows language & rhythms & meanings to get weird and how, ultimately, this is an exercise in trusting yourself, trusting what you see, planning ahead, or moving line by line. Cutting away until whatever's left satisfies you.

pandemic expressions

We called this the Quarantine Movement Group. The exchange took place via WhatsApp. One song. One video. Every sunday.  

Song Credits: Pay My Rent by Earth to Jordi

how far does one line go?

Straight from the sketchbook, these drawings emerge from my non-dominant hand as it practices noticing in parks, bars, museums, and public transport the movement from one thing to another. Lifting only at completion. Drawing, whether you are strict with the one line or not, demands this self-trust.

Faces change like skies change. I like to challenge myself to draw the same person more than once in one sitting. Allow our multitudes to shine.

I’m also of the belief that the hand takes differently, depending on the medium. Here I go playing with charcoal.


Big thanks to Lydon Frank Lettuce for introducing me to this exquisite-corpse-like exercise. Throughout this past year, I've invited lovers, close friends, new friends, strangers, and various groups to write a question at the top of a sheet of paper, fold their question away from them, exchange papers, write an answer, fold their answer away from them, and pass it back. Again & again; questions & answers. The resulting magic is the uncanny stuff of life.

After finishing a journal, read through it and pull out some of your favorite lines. Cut them into strips and rearrange them.


Noticing the impulse to slow something down enough. To carry a moment into tomorrow. A practice in surprise. All shot on 35mm film.

© sara mariah montijo // young rasa