“Dripping from her tongue was the scarcest of riches. With power and luck her Pride maintained dominance over the nearby waterhole. The cool of morning had already evaporated and until the drought broke in the Serengeti, the rapidly disappearing water would become their most prized possession. Following this lioness as she rose from the shade, belly full from the night’s feast, her intent was clear to us as she strode toward the waterhole. Dashing to the opposite side, we halted across from her just as she settled by the varnished surface for her first sip, her reflection turning the water into liquid gold”.
Portraying that sight with my pens, without any washes or brushes, was the challenge. It quickly became clear that depicting the glassy surface of water does not take kindly to the abuse of thousands of pen strokes. Surprisingly, struggling between the strokes and the smudging of inks, the water began to take on the fractured look of ripples. That was where the mastery of the medium fell away and the magic began.