I spent the morning today working on a painting for an upcoming book. I managed to get quite a bit done and I'm happy with how it's coming out.
|You can see the obvious influence of Curious George, right? Right?|
After slaving over a painting all morning, I biked over to the Curious George Cottage and started on a sketch for an alphabet book I'm illustrating for Sleeping Bear Press.
|Having trouble with the kid in the front right. I might just change him into a fire hydrant or something. That will teach him to be hard to draw.|
I also did some work on a personal project.
|This is how I've been grooming myself during the residency. I look dapper.|
I decided that the day was too delightful to spend all of it hunched over a drawing board in a cottage, so I biked over to the town center and hunched over a drawing board in a different location.
|Work, work, work...|
I was looking for a spot to sit on the delightful beach and found, to my great joy, that there was one plastic chair sitting all alone on the deserted shoreline. I quickly stripped off my shoes and socks and dragged the chair to the edge of the water and sat down to draw.
I had been working for 15 or 20 minutes when I sensed a disturbance in the force. A feeling that I was being watched.
Turning around, I saw a lady in a sun hat sitting next to the spot where I had dumped my belongings, staring at me.
The kind of stare you give people who drive down the breakdown lane and then squeeze into traffic that you have been patiently waiting in. The kind of stare you give people who have 19 items in the 14 items or fewer line.
The kind of stare you give a guy who took your beach chair.
I patted down the hair on the back of my neck and went back to work, assuming that if it were actually her chair, she would say something. She never did say anything, and the next time I dared to turn around, she was gone.
So, lady, if it was your chair, I'm sorry, but I thank you. It was very comfortable and I hope to steal it again later today.
Eventually I tired of stealing chairs and headed back to my glorious abode to make dinner (pasta with spinach, feta cheese, and pesto if you're wondering).
Along the way, I took the time to take another picture of the inside of my pocket to share with you. Because I care.
|This particular piece looks alarmingly organic to me. Maybe my camera can see inside my spleen or something.|
Then I spent some quality time working on another personal project that involves staring at my friend Dave's beard for excessive period of time.
|His beard is hypnotic. Do not stare directly into it. Do not look at it while driving or using heavy machinery.|
I decided to head off to bed a bit early then, because I want to get up early to go stalk chairs by the lake.