Ah, Satan sees Natasha.

This is a doodle I did during a particularly agonizing corportate meeting last week. I like the whippy, immediate line quality, all energy and spontaneity. Seems like I do my best work when I’m doodling. This was kind of a downfall for me when I was drawing pictures for a living. I could do the nice loose stuff when I was scewing around but when someone hung a check and a deadline in front of me the icy fingers of chokedom would start clamping on my windpipe. Or as The Mountain would say, “It’s hard to draw (shoot-pass-kick-catch-dribble-hit) with your hands around your throat.” HARHARAR! He’s got a million of them! A lot of my professional work is much stiffer than I would like it to be. One of the worst drawings I ever did shows up every year in a newspaper ad. It’s an awful drawing of a guy spraying lawn chemicals. Just terrible. It’s run every spring now for about twenty years. I cringe everytime I see it.
That fearlessness of attack is why I admire Calvin and Hobbs so much. Bill Watterson can draw like a mutha. The stuff seems to be born on the paper. He is a master of the economic of line, creating the perfect gesture and expression with the fewest possible strokes. It takes years of practice. I don’t remember what cartoonist said it, but when asked how long it took him to do a drawing he replied, “30 seconds and 20 years.”

I just left in the note crashing into her forehead. “Regional” Regional what? There’s a word in front of it, but I can’t read it. Mostly when I take notes I can’t make any sense of them when I go back to read them. I used to be able to remember everything and didn’t need to take notes. Now I can’t remember anything and I don’t know how to take notes.

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