Hey.
Made this tonight for me and you. It’s some lo-tech fun stuff. Tomorrow I’ll try to be back on the cutting edge of things.
Enjoy your evening and don’t forget the lunar eclipse (where applicable)!
Hey.
I was thinking about how much fun it would be to travel around with a dog in a Gondola. So, I drew this on the computer at lunch.
Gee, this would be a cool thing I think.
Here’s an attempt at drawing Lenin as a Simpsons character. They’ve probably actually featured him in an episode before–don’t know.
Oh well.
I was bored at work and here’s what I made.
Another interest of mine: alcoholic bums.
Have a great day.
Characters: Small Bean, Miroslav, and dog.
Setting: Wet, dirty alleyway. Both men are dressed shabbily seated on wooden crates around a small fire. It is night. The dog is white but is dirty and appears to be light brown. It is seated beside Small Bean. Miroslav is holding a large wine bottle in his right hand and a sandwich in his left.
Small Bean: So, you’ve found a home? (Looks from Miroslav to the dog at his side and strokes the dog’s head.)
Miroslav: Yes. (He says this looking at Small Bean then quickly looks away. He takes a bite of the sandwich and a sip from the bottle.)
Small Bean: It will be sad to have you gone. (Miroslav hands him the bottle. He takes a gulp.) I’ve grown accustomed to you.
Miroslav: (Accepting the bottle from Small Bean.) I’ve gotten used to you as well. (Pauses.) And him. (He points to and continues to stare at the dog.)
Dog: (Stares at Miroslav.)
Miroslav: I will miss you, too. (He says to the dog and takes a sip of the wine.)
Small Bean: Why now? (Mirolsav hands him the bottle, he drinks.)
Miroslav: (Still looking at the dog.) I always told you I’d be leaving. (Takes a bite of his sandwich and offers it to Small Bean who refuses.)
Small Bean: Yes. (Pauses and stares into the fire, his hand resting on the dog’s head.) I guess I just didn’t think you ever would.
Miroslav: It’s for the best. (Sips from the bottle and passes it to Small Bean.) This will make me happiest.
Small Bean: (Drinks from the bottle.) Are you not happy here? (Pauses.) Do you have to go?
Miroslav: (Shaking head.) I’m not happy. (Sighs and looks at Small Bean.) I need to go.
Dog: (The men are silent and the dog looks back and forth from Miroslav to Small Bean.)
Small Bean: Is it so much better than here? (Takes another gulp from the bottle and hands it to Miroslav.)
Miroslav: It is bright. (Pauses.) And warm. And safe. (Pauses.) And tidy. (He takes a bite from the sandwich and holds the last bite out to the dog.)
Dog: (Stands and comes toward Miroslav. Takes food into his mouth and looks at Miroslav.)
Small Bean: May I come with you.
Miroslav: No. (Hands the bottle to Small Bean.)
Small Bean: (Drinks.) I don’t really understand. (Pauses to take another drink.) Are we not friends?
Miroslav: That’s not what we’re speaking about.
Small Bean: I don’t really understand. (Drinks from the bottle again and passes it to Miroslav.)
Dog: (Comes to lie down on Small Bean’s feet.)
Small Bean: (Picks up some sticks from beside him and tosses them onto the fire.) Will we still see each other?
Miroslav: Of course. (Sips from the bottle.) I hope we do.
Small Bean: Couldn’t you just stay? (Leans down to rub the dog’s side.) We could see each other much more easily then.
Miroslav: I want to go. (Gulps from the bottle and looks into the fire. Passes the bottle to Small Bean.)
Small Bean: (Drinks wine and holds bottle up to the firelight, notices it’s low.) Maybe we could have one more bottle before you leave? (Passes the bottle to Miroslav.)
Miroslav: I should go.
Small Bean: I will not do so well without you. (Stares at the fire then at the dog.) Neither will he. (Gestures towards the dog.)
Miroslav: This is not the last time I will see you.
Small Bean: It will be different.
Miroslav: We will just have to see.
Small Bean: I don’t like this.
Miroslav: I know. (Tips the bottle back, finishing it off, and tosses it into the fire.)
Dog: (The men are silent for some time, both staring into the fire. Stands and walks to Miroslav who rubs his ears.)
Small Bean: One more bottle for old time’s sake.
Miroslav: But I should go.
Small Bean: It won’t be this way tomorrow.
Miroslav: No.
Small Bean: One last bottle. (Pauses.) Between friends.
Miroslav: But there is someone waiting for me.
Small Bean: (Surprised.) Oh. (Looks into the fire.) Then we can have that bottle another day.
Dog: (Stands and walks into the shadows, nosing about for food. Miroslav and Small Bean sit in silence.)
Small Bean: So, are you leaving now?
Miroslav: (Sighs and kicks some trash into the fire.) I’d like a bit more to drink before I go.
Small Bean: (Looks up at Miroslav smiling.) It couldn’t hurt, right?
Dog: (Rejoins the two, chewing on something, and sits beside Small Bean.)
Miroslav: No. (Pauses.) It will be nice.
“You should draw a kitty eating a sandwich.”
Here it is:
Have a good Valentine’s Day, everyone!
Here’s what I made at lunch today. 
It’s a lot like the drawings I used to make on the computer when I was younger.
I don’t know why I chose to draw the reaper today, except that I think he can be sort of humorous.
Hope you enjoy it.
Have a nice day.
I’ve been slipping on keeping up with this recently, but I’m back in the swing today.
I have something of an interest in geriatric issues, I guess you could say. More specifically, I wonder, with all of the advances in medicine leading to people living longer–and this is going to sound uncouth–what are we going to do with all of the olds? What do we do with them? Where do they go? How can we treat them well? Is keeping a breathing corpse around until it’s 100 necessary or ethical?
Last week, the New York Times ran an article about assisted geriatric suicide. I found it very interesting and you can read it here.
So, today I used my mouse and computer to create this image of myself as a sort of old. It’s certainly not a spot-on representation, but I had fun doing it.
Have a good day.
Characters: Me, Work, Today, and One Week from Today
Setting: Brightly-lit office at a cramped desk.
Today: I suck. (Sighs and pauses.) I mean, I am a really bad day.
Me: No. Stop being so hard on yourself. You don’t suck.
Today: Stop lying to me.
Me: I’m not lying. I’ve had much worse days than this, Today.
Today: Do you promise?
Me: Yes, I promise. (Pats Today on shoulder.) And you’re very pretty, too.
Today: Thanks.
Me: Work sucks a lot more than you, Today.
(Enter Work.)
Work: Hey! Come on. (Takes a swing at my face.)
Me: (Moves to avoid getting hit.) Whoa there. I’m not fighting you today. Right, Today?
Today: Yeah, he’s not.
Work: (To Today.) Maybe tomorrow?
Today: That’ll be up to him.
Me: I don’t want to fight you anymore, Work.
Work: Finally. (Flexes arms at me.) I’ve won.
(Enter One Week from Today.)
One Week from Today: You’re gonna fight Work when I’m around.
Me: Really?
One Week from Today: Yeah. (Opens my planner and reads to himself.) You and work are going to have at it.
Me: At least I know now. (Sighs. Looks out window and puts head in hands.) Thanks, One Week from Today.
One Week from Today: No problem. See you.
(Exits.)
Work: You just can’t beat me, huh? (Laughs and flexes again.) See you pansy.
(Exits.)
Today: (Watches Work leave then approaches slowly, places hand on my shoulder.) Well, at least I don’t suck, right?
Me: Yeah. (Looks up at Today then puts head back in hands.) But you’re not totally amazing either.
Today: I know. (Pulls hand away from my shoulder.) I’m sorry.
Me: You’re trying.
Today: I hope I’m doing a good job.
Me: You are. (Looks up at Today.) Everything’s OK, Today.
A boring day at work brought on some heavy mental lifting. In particular, I was thinking about my childhood home, which I inhabited from birth, left at 18, boomeranged back to at 22, and left again shortly before turning 23. My dad still lives there and it’s always odd to go back to it. Feels like I’m entering a time warp when I walk through the front door.
This house forms the backdrop of so many memories for me, both good and bad.
Anyway, my thing for today is a very rough drawing of the assemblage of glass, brick, and wood I used to call home. 
Today, I made myself get out of bed–always a struggle–and then I made my daily five mile bike ride to work. It was overcast and foggy outside, but the temperature was nice and I didn’t even need a coat. I live in a small southern city on the coast that is in the midst of sprawling out of control, so between the immense distances from one place to another and awful traffic, riding a bike can be frightening. Many people tell me that they’d never ride a bike in this town. But I love my morning and afternoon rides.
I like being out in the weather and being able to glance up at the trees I pass under. It’s nice to say hello to the people I ride by, many of whom I see each morning. The neighborhoods I pass through are quiet and I can take back streets to the bike path that leads me into the beautiful, historic downtown where my office is located. I can actually make it to work very safely and quickly, especially with the shortcuts available on the bike. Getting myself to work under my own power just feels very natural and good to me. I mean, I’m no health nut and I could stand to be in better shape, but I, like everyone else, was designed to move using my legs and lungs.
Today, I made it to work on my bike and it was great.
This is a little chat I might have had this morning.
Characters: Me, cat, and a coffee cup.
Setting: Monday morning. A small, warm kitchen with bright sunlight streaming through its many windows. This is probably not my house.
Me: It’s a beautiful day. (Stretches, looks out windows.) I don’t feel like going to work.
Cat: I heard you tossing and turning all night.
Me: Indeed. (Standing, looking at the coffee maker as it burbles and hisses steam.) I am sleepy.
Cat: Is something weighing on your mind?
Me: Monday. (Yawns.) And I am worried about work and money.
Cat: Sometimes you worry too much about things.
Me: Yes, that’s true. (Leans down to stroke cat’s back.)
Cat: Me too.
Me: Why? (Looks to cat, curled at feet.) Like what?
Cat: I am afraid you won’t come home some nights.
Me: (Looking into cat’s eyes.) Is that why you pee my bed?
Cat: I am nervous and angry.
Me: Sorry. (Bends and strokes cat’s whiskers.)
Cat: It’s OK. (Purrs and stretches.) I love you dearly.
Me: Thank you. I know. (Retrieves coffee cup from cupboard.)
Coffee Cup: I don’t like that you keep me in the cabinet so much. Look at how nice the light is shining through these windows.
Me: I know. (Looks towards windows.) I keep you in there to make things tidier.
Coffee Cup: I don’t really understand.
Me: I frequently leave you on the counter in the light when I leave for work.
Coffee Cup: I enjoy the light.
Me: You are a long lasting and durable cup. (Lifts pot and pours coffee into cup.) You have served me well. (Stands, sipping coffee from cup and staring out the windows.)
Coffee Cup: Thank you.
Cat: I will sit in the windows while you’re gone and wait for you to return.
Me: It won’t be long.
Coffee Cup: I would like to be in the sun while you’re gone. Wash me and put me away later, please.
Me: OK, I will. (Lifts cup to lips, drinks.)
Cat: Have a nice day. (Stands and rubs his side against my leg before hopping onto a window sill.)
Me: I will try.
It’s February 1st? Really? Seems like there’ve been so many of those already.
