Lots of people are scared of drawing. It's something most of us do as kids without question, but somehow it becomes daunting as we age. Many adults readily proclaim themselves "bad at drawing," even if they doodle through their workday; they dismiss the activity rather than finding their own way forward with it. That discrepancy prompted Sarah Freeman and Mara Williams to ask the rather fundamental question: "Why do we draw?" In "Desire Lines," on view through February 9 at the Brattleboro Museum & Art Center, the cocurators bring together six regional artists with disparate styles who share an appreciation of the medium's physicality, process and meaning. James Siena's arresting works seem like doodles pushed to their natural conclusions. In "Spoolstrata," a 22-by-31-inch graphite drawing, he creates the kind of outlined, roping squiggles — think spaghetti — that you might find in the margins of meeting notes or a middle school math notebook. The lines loop and cross over each other in a loose weave. The repetition and density of forms create a coherent composition, folded and draping when you step back, mesmerizingly detailed up close. Siena carries a similar technique into "Artoptichord," a 75-by-60-inch painting in Pepto-Bismol pink and electric blue. Here, blue lines snake across the canvas, slight variations in thickness reminiscent of ballpoint pen; Siena outlines those lines with more lines, creating a thrumming mass. The show's curators have made audio clips from each artist available via QR codes from the exhibition labels — a smart choice that is particularly helpful in personalizing a show in which much of the work is abstract or process-driven. In one clip, Siena describes how, when he tried to draw a tree as a 12-year-old, he thought he needed to picture every leaf. That visual impulse is a through line for his work. "Allelomorphs, Amended," a second 75-by-60-inch painting, presents a pair of forms that spill down the canvas, each containing contrasting black-and-white or brown-and-beige blocky patterns. The eye easily gets overwhelmed trying to read them. Throughout Siena's work, there's a tension between the repetitive, patient way he makes a drawing and the all-at-once visual cacophony of looking at the finished piece. By contrast, Dana Piazza's drawings clearly convey his meditative process. In "Lines" 144, 146 and 166, each 41 by 29.5 inches, he uses a colored marker to create a gestural line across the paper. Then he…