Though only one name is signed beneath the text greeting visitors to Rochester Contemporary's "For Drawing Sake," the words serve as a voice for all six artists whose work is on view. Unfolding as a series of one-line statements, it explains why they do what they do: "We draw to explore, We draw to discover ourselves, We draw because we want to know ...." A revelation comes near the end, where T.S. Eliot is quoted: "And in the end of all our exploring is to arrive at where we started and know the place for the first time."

It's as if Eliot were speaking specifically about the act of drawing: the exploration begins with that first mark on the paper, and continues as the lines reach out from that starting point. Loops are made, lines crossed, paths double back upon one another, and the artist's hand may well return to that initial mark during the course of creation. What remains is the drawing, a map commemorating the artist's journey through the paper's blank white territory.

Joe Hendrick's drawings exist atop layered paper adhered with a variety of tapes - masking, cloth, and the first-aid tape used to secure bandages. The crayon and pencil marks that traverse these works vary from messy scribbles to detailed sketches. Some, particularly his drawn continuations of photographs, hint at meaning, but most exist as fanciful bits of sweeping and slashing line. This lies in comparison to a staid presentation in less-than-flattering black metal frames. Hendrick's art flutters with the energy of restless birds; Hendrick would do well to release them from their cages.

Pete Monacelli is the other artist in the show who relies solely on traditional framing, but his work is somewhat more suited to those constraints. While organic shapes do emerge in some of his pencil drawings, most of Monacelli's work recalls elements of suprematism - blank sheets of paper inhabited by geometric forms - but unlike Malevich, Monacelli places elaborate details within the shapes. It's a lot within a little space; you'll find your nose against the glass as you inspect the expert handiwork.

For sheer breadth, it's hard to beat Kathleen Farrell. No less than four different displays of Farrell's work are found in this show, including her loose and goofy sketches of oddball couples executed on small wood-framed chalkboards. There are more portraits in sharp and squiggly line, as well as a group of colorful mixed-media works that incorporate materials ranging from bits of cardboard to a pair of postage stamps featuring Charlie Parker and Charles Mingus. Jazz pops up again in her "Jazz Festival 07," an unfolded accordion-style Moleskine notebook full of visceral portraits of performing musicians. The sketches are quick but assured, and imbued with the energy of a live musical improvisation. Another folding book features caricatures of dogs; like her canine subjects, Farrell's sketches overflow with personality.

The lines of Jim Downer's ink sketches are tight and dense, giving the smooth surface of the paper a visual texture. Downer's square drawings are bordered with a black line reminiscent of single-panel cartoons. But there aren't any captions here; the viewer is allowed to admire the craft and ponder the meaning, which - considering the scattered subjects like a tangled mess of pipes, slices of Swiss cheese, or a reindeer - could be anything.

While his larger works dominate nearly an entire wall, Jason Smith's true gems are the smaller drawings pinned to the gallery's columns. Symbols of movement and travel dominate: ladders and passageways make repeated appearances, and Smith incorporates bits of actual maps into the pieces. In many, Smith has deliberately struck the place names on the map with a line of black ink, evoking renewed ruminations on maps, territories, the art of cartography, and vice versa.

Despite the admonition "metaphors are for weenies" penned across one of his many drawings of magnets, Harold Coogan fully explores the symbolic meanings of the horseshoe shaped hunk of electrically charged metal. Two magnets attract and repulse while text declares, "real problems in science and life no. 006 - in theory it seems so easy." Another piece features three magnets in a face-off: "uh oh - three's a crowd." There are many, many magnets, but Coogan also includes gorgeously delicate sketches of falling stars, one telling us "sometimes the sky is falling." Coogan's artwork is fraught with meaning beneath a playful exterior; the inclusion of charged text completely subverts the innocent imagery.

"For Drawing Sake" presents extremely diverse works, so diverse that one might expect to be overwhelmed and confuse who drew what. Neither is the case, and the exhibition's organizational clarity is likely due to the artist's common thread - all are educators affiliated with Monroe Community College. In fact, the group will be hosting informal drawing sessions at Rochester Contemporary on August 9 and 18, with works created being added to the show's "Evolving Wall." For these prolific artists, teaching others to explore is as important as their own artwork. "[These sessions are] meant to be a celebration of drawing," says Kathleen Farrell. "Children have no fear of drawing from their imagination. We wish to rekindle that spirit again."

"For Drawing Sake" | Through September 5 | Rochester Contemporary, 137 East Avenue | Wednesday-Sunday, 1-5 p.m. | 461-2222, www.rochestercontemporary.org | A Drawing Club/Artist Talk takes place Thursday, August 9, at 6 p.m. and Saturday, August 18, at 2 p.m.