When we are drawn to sleep, although dreams are colour, and how is a question, all we see is a greyer shade of black, those greys both sides of an H-pencil, at times through to B for Black. Clouded night sky of greys behind eyelids. Mountains and valleys float with gravity. Waking, colour revives, the outlines we know as the world’s shapes and shadows. The fine line between sleeping and waking is the eyelid. The hours we spend in May with our graphite, imitating on paper intricate forms of falling leaves or the human body, creation offers our drawing class.