In silence, one finds the form of the shadow, defined not by light but the absence of it. Begin gently with your hands, the charcoal cradled as if it were a sleeping ember.
Trace the outline of the unknown with deliberate calm. Each stroke an incantation, whispering life into the void. Remember that details emerge from darkness, as the stars are born from the black canvas of night.
Sing lullabies to the charcoal silhouettes that others may see them as alive, yet understand they are reflections of your own quietude. Let your voice be the wind that carries the stories of things unseen.