I’ll see a photo in the NYT and draw it in pen or graphite. I’ve done that for nearly all my life. Its pretty ingrained. That leads to piles of paper renderings of all manner of stuff. There is text too. Stories that were never completed because they morphed like the kiwi plant that’s taken over the green house. I will be out there addressing those Triffids with the bolt cutters as soon as the temp gets above sixty, I swear!