I brought enough paper and drawing supplies to fill two backpacks. I went to Heima knowing that I would draw, but I had no idea what I would draw. The first couple of weeks I was trying to work figuratively, trying to suss out what I wanted to do, how I wanted to make the works, and I realized I actually no interest at that moment in creating figurative work, so I stopped, except for a series of drawings of a family eating a meal which I drew over and over again, ten times or so, as a warm up in the cold mornings. I started working with silverpoint, a piece of silver jammed in a mechanical pencil holder, and silver spoons and forks. I had a silverpoint ground but I found if I laid a sketch down with white china marker (grease pencil),  and then drew over top of the image with the silver I could get a nice mark.  I then began vigourously scraping and cutting the paper, and the wood from the walls and work table would come through, and I liked that too, so I made lots of those drawings and then I added watercolour at the beginning to see what would happen and then worked out ok, and then, and then. A month passed and I had enough work for a show, part of a group show we called I Love/ I Scream, and I showed the work in my work space and the night was fun and others showed their works and music played.  Then a week or so after of quiet time,of contemplative time, of self-satisfied time, I tried to imagine the next stage of my work, I started to draw again, modifying techniques for larger works.  I did a series of odd charcoal drawings on this plastic-y kind of paper, where I would rub and scrape the paper on the rough floor of the studio, and these turned out to be lovely and strange.  Soon I was to leave, so some of us agreed to have a show together, and we did, and the next morning I left Heima.  I rolled all the work up as best I could and showed the work at an artist talk at the University of Regina the following week, which was weird as I had yet to fully understand what I had made.