Why not create an artwork on my entire hand? Hunched over the open notebook on my desk, my hand moved rapidly across the page. Brow furrowed, I was deep in concentration.
Then…
‘Rebecca, are you listening?’
My maths teacher’s voice cut into my thoughts, jolting me back to attention.
‘Umm… Of course, sorry,’ I mumbled, cheeks flushing.
But I hadn’t heard a word she’d said.
I’d been far too busy doodling. In fact, I was always scribbling away.
Notepads, my school books, scraps of paper – you name it, I drew on it.
Ever since I was little, I’d been bonkers about art.
Evening after evening, I’d curl up on the sofa – pen poised, sketchbook open, ready to draw.
‘What you working on now?’ my mum would ask, peering…
