It's the tree from the dream, I think.
Lately I find myself sketching the same tree over and over and over again. It's like I've sketched myself into a boring little rut. I don't even know where the tree is, but it must be somewhere. It's got the same knothole near the base, the same dark, twisted branches that hang, gnarled, over the ground. It looks like it's guarding a secret. If I passed a tree like that, I'd cross to the opposite side of the road just to avoid it. It seems like it's an omen.
Patrick is taking a class at the Y on charicatures. It's made him somewhat obnoxious lately. He keeps doing these awful looking sketches of Tassie and myself, with over-exaggerated features. His last sketch of me made me resemble Jay Leno with long light brown hair.
I think it's time to get revenge.
I'm going to draw him with a Barbara Streisand nose.
Time to hit him where it hurts.
Patrick is taking a class at the Y on charicatures. It's made him somewhat obnoxious lately. He keeps doing these awful looking sketches of Tassie and myself, with over-exaggerated features. His last sketch of me made me resemble Jay Leno with long light brown hair.
I think it's time to get revenge.
I'm going to draw him with a Barbara Streisand nose.
Time to hit him where it hurts.