.from.my.sketchbook.

 

Preliminary work for a little political cartoon my brain is too dead to deal with at this very moment. But later...

And in the realm of dead, I had a lovely little rant started in my brain about the purpose of art, and what I'd like the purpose of my art to be...it will come. 

[EDIT - 10 minutes later]

Okay, I need to rephrase this, as I don't think "my brain is dead" really covers how my thinking parts feel at the moment.

My brain feels like it's been scrambled, and is leaking out of my eye sockets.

Seriously.

I spent 4 hours at work today making boxes, and it scrambled my brains. Like eggs. but not so delicious.

Alright, maybe as delicious, but I don't know as I've never eaten brains of any sort - but especially not human brains because that's how you get Mad Cow Disease (or so I hear). And my brains might be pretty delicious as brains go - filled with pretty colors and ink lines and music and dancing.

Or they might just taste like regular brains.

That have been scrambled.

It's not too dissimilar a feeling that I have after finishing an intensive illustration project - when emerging from that concentration into daylight and blinking alot. But, still.

Scrambled.

So it might be martinis and french fries tonight.

And drawing.

Or possibly dancing, as I need to video the Dance Challenge pieces this weekend.

We. Will. See.