A seated figure bent sharply forward — the back rounded, the head tucked toward the knees, the body folded into itself. Where the face would be, in the lower left of the composition, a dense spiral scribble fills the space: overlapping circular marks, a vortex of pencil that both obscures and acknowledges the face's location. This deliberate erasure is the most formally radical act in the entire sketchbook sequence.
The body around the spiraled face is drawn with the usual pencil economy — the back's rounded contour, the shoulder blades visible at the upper right, the thighs pressing against the chest. The body is resolved; only the face has been treated differently. Whatever was drawn there has been covered with the scribble, or the scribble was drawn in place of a face that was never attempted.
This erasure inverts the collection's usual hierarchy. Across hundreds of drawings, the face is always the most attended zone — the site of identity, expression, character. Here it is precisely the face that is obliterated, replaced with the most automatic, uncontrolled marks in the sketchbook: a spiral that recalls the collection's spiral vocabulary but deployed here not as ornament or symbol but as concealment.
The drawing raises questions that cannot be answered from the image alone: was the face erased afterward, in a gesture of dissatisfaction or privacy? Was the scribble the drawing's original intention — a figure from which the face was withheld? Either way, the result is one of the most psychologically charged images in the sketchbook series. The body speaks; the face is gone.