I drew the snail, and then the snail drew me – into my persistent worries about right-wing extremists who want to ban books, and more.
The once and future irrelevant song about the American political climate. Do we still taste the same thing?
“Higher-order mentalizing” began with a ghost and ended with a fly – neglecting the hypothetical desires of a poop.
My marginal doodles, animated by AI: A pissed-off bear, a three-eyed bon vivant, an angry schmo, a streaker.
With my new colored pencils, I rediscovered the feeling of sorcery, remembering that we see with our brains, not with our eyes.
I was the star witness in a trial with a statistically highly improbable jury composition – perhaps unfairly so.
A discussion on Newton’s apple incident and the laws of gravity leads (logically) to a pencil sketch of a daydreaming dog
A decomposing rat found (by its odor) in an unexpected place – a rental van owned by a self-proclaimed car-hater.
A friend’s reminder that “drawing is good for the soul” inspired a sketch a bottle cap from an IPA, a rarity in Madagascar.
In “Carey: Genesis of the Song,” My friend Cary Raditz transcends the cane-wielding character trapped in the Joni Mitchell song.