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.
Jimmy Buffett seemed so at ease in the wider world, he was one of the musicians who made me want to expand my horizons.