Buzzards Bay Bohemians

I drew this while hiding away inside our cargo van as April was grocery shopping…not sure if I am bragging or apologizing.

The text is paraphrased from a forgotten source…words not my own, embellishments also suspect.

Why do I draw these? A question for my next therapy session.

I started sketching these faces this morning while drinking coffee and waking up. What does it mean? I don’t know. Should it be developed further? I can’t say.

 

After a long walk by the canal… Face sunburnt by surprisingly vigorous February sun…I imagined myself a sunflower (sunglasses would have been nice)….compulsively gazing at the shimmering golden arcs of the sun reflecting off the water was mesmerizing…. my lobster skin, my Sunday tithing.

This morning was all about acceptance and transformation (not to be over-dramatic) as I recycled my “bull-shit” drawings not good enough for internet fame into a collage of sorts. April, as always, close to my side supporting me mentally, paying bills so the electricity will stay on…keeping the tangible world made of spinning atoms and mortgage payments on our side. As always, I worry that my artwork will reveal me to be psychologically demented – April (as always) reassures me that all the great artists are crazy.