These moving drawings form Franciszka Themerson's pictorial journal during two lonely years in wartime London. Artless, primitive at times, they witness her finding her feet again, as an arist and as a human being, amid the senseless chaos of a Europe devastated by war. Their imagery ranges through description to allegory to dreams, most notably of her husband and artistic partner, Stefan, who is meanwhile stranded in Vichy France. Dancing fluently between comedy and tragedy, using pen, black chalk or watercolour, she treats lines like words, and from this time onwards drawing becomes her primary medium.