Oddly enough time divided up makes more time, time that can be seized and used.
Time sections are Jerusalem artichoke-like: you cut the bulbs in pieces and get more plants. Each piece will grow, and you’ll live in a forest of the plants if you’re not careful, a vast sea of waving heliotropic flowers continually turning their faces toward the light on the earth’s great sweeping clock face.
Count how many versions you’ll do. (Set a goal.) Count the amount of time that you’ll spend on each drawing. (Set a length goal.) Set a timer, run your drawing like a race (get ready, get set, go!).
Redo the same thing thinking to turn yourself dumbly into a machine, a Xerox copier (all the versions will be different, humans are subtle). This should be a separate rule. I’ll repeat it later (which is also wise time use, repetition, we are a forgetful species).
[This post is dedicated to the life and memory of Paul Squires of Gingatao, a great poet of the early 21st century.]