This morning I've been doing a terrible job drawing David Bowie. I need a drawing of him for a post and so I've been drawing but it's complete crap.
So I made some tea and got a snack of nuts and chocolate and feeling chilled, am now sitting by the fire thinking about what terrible drawings I made of David Bowie.
And here continues my contribution to the Great American Monologue.
Yesterday Len told us about being on the bus going from the Mission to the Marina where he was taking an art class, worrying because that day they were starting figure drawing with a nude model and though he had drawn houses and plants and shoes and streetscapes and boats (and was even a little pleased with some of them), he was so insecure about the idea of drawing a live nude that he bolted off the bus before his stop, leaving his portfolio behind.
And he hasn't drawn since.