French-born painter and part-time LA resident Pierre Picot makes landscape drawings on paper that possess both the gusto and the subtlety of calligraphy.

His swirly whooshes of wind and raggy-jaggy lines of craggy mountains articulate an onomatopoeia of marks. Raw, gestural and gritty, a pile of Pierre Picot’s rocks has the animated oddness of Philip Guston’s lugubrious shoes.

Picot’s art-making process is like Neil Young’s, who said, “If you’re trying to catch a rabbit, you don’t wait right by the hole…There’s nothing about music that should be ‘working on it.’” (link) Picot says, “The piece just sits there, waiting to be noticed while I am trying not to do so, then I quickly see it at a glance, totally by chance, almost as an afterthought…then it will show its face, reveal itself, indicate what the new gesture will be.”