A very simple, highly repetitive practice: drawing many, many little bricks in black ink on white paper.

I do this when I am completely alone in my studio, with repetitive music playing softly in the background, and the sound of a ticking clock.

The only other things I hear or notice are the soft scratching of the pen against the paper; the sound of my own breathing; a motorcycle, car, or plane passing somewhere in the distance; a door opening or closing somewhere in the house; and, occasionally, a dog barking or a dove calling. It is a practice of extreme simplicity, where even the smallest sounds and movements become part of the experience.

Petervan Artwork © 2021 – 5000 Bricks – Soundscape by Petervan in Logic Pr

My practice is further inspired by the work of Lu Qing. Lu Qing is the spouse of Ai Weiwei, but she has largely remained in the background, away from the press and public attention. While browsing her work, I came across this repetitive piece: acrylic blocks painted onto a roll of silk approximately 20 meters long and 83 centimeters wide.

M+ Sigg Collection, Hong Kong. By donation, © Lu Qing

I found a roll of cheap white paper, one meter wide and five meters long, and started drawing. What you see in the video above are the first 5,000 bricks of what will become a “long” work.

For me, it layers different kinds of attention.

There is attention to the drawing itself: getting the pattern right, working with no—or only a minimum of—grid or supporting lines, and drawing “perfect” bricks, each made in a single, continuous line.

Then there is attention to the mind wandering. As I draw, I make small notes—sometimes only mental ones—about a project, my daughter, my spouse, or whatever else happens to surface.

It’s useless, I know.

And yet, it brings me into contact with an unexplored part of myself. It puts me into a Zen-like state, a state of deep calm and happiness. I am literally—and metaphorically—losing my time, losing myself.

Or am I, in fact, finding myself again?