Comes a day when you have no mother, have no father, when all you have is the sun and the sky, a few heavy clouds, the view before you, and the wind that blows in evening far much quicker than you had ever hoped.
Started drawing a couple years ago. Had always wanted to but never thought I could. I used to watch with envy as others put pen to page and re-created what they saw in front of them.
Truth was: I couldn’t draw because I never did. Wasn’t till I was willing to do it all wrong, to make mistakes and embarrass myself, that I was able to see how easily those mistakes can be corrected.
Of course, I’m no master artist. I’m an amateur at best, one who does it for the love of doing it. And what do I love most? When I draw, my mind goes mute; words are abandoned, which prohibits self-criticism.
I just look at a thing and pay close attention, noticing its lines and shapes and shadows. There’s no judgment involved, just a little love as I bring the image to life on a lined piece of paper.
Time to try and sketch some people. Of course, this is not at all as intentionally goofy as her original photo, but it does capture a bit of her good-natured humor — something I wish there was a hella lot more of here in oh-so-serious San Francisco.
Here on the left coast of America, where the over-educated fancy themselves as open minded and tolerant, close-minded intolerance is constantly on display — as with this example of political street art and its sidewalk passerby graffiti.
Righteous haters love it here where they can cozy up with other haters and project their mutual hypocrisy. I gotta admit, though, some of their comments are pretty funny.
To fully appreciate the disdain on parade, right click on the image to open a larger version in a new tab.