When you stop wanting them, I’ll stop making them… check out the rest here…
Hey, if you want this on a shirt (sorry, no hats) you can find them in my SQUIRRELOSOPHY store.
It’s not too early… It’s happening already. Just like the weather, you can’t stop the seasonal candy corn rain…. even at the end of July.
To my wife Lezley, on her birthday…
I’ve been a professional ink-slinger for over 20 years. I’ve been drawing for twice that long. Over the decades of practice, things I once thought impossible became possible. I can draw trees now. I can draw buildings now. I can almost draw anything that I think of… most of the time it comes pretty close. (most is being generous)
I’ve been drawing YOU for 11 years. However, no matter how many times I draw you, there are still several unknowns. BUT, there are four things that I can always count on:
1. I’ll show you your drawing and you will pause. Sometimes a long pause. I dislike those long pauses.
2. Nine times out of ten (if in color) I will fail to match your hair color of the moment.
3. You will INSIST that I’ve drawn you skinnier than YOU THINK you are. Apparently, my prescription lenses prevent me from seeing you “the way you really are…”
4. Three times out of ten you will ask me why I didn’t put Maggie in the picture with you.
Now, after 11 years of drawing you, there are archetypes I can always go to… things, characteristics that, if included, will scream LEZLEY to you. Everyone else will know it’s you without this stuff… but these are my tickets to Lezley approval:
1. Coffee. Duh. To-go cup or big mug depends on the season. To-go for summer, mugs for fall, winter and spring.
2. Purse. You change them about as often as your hair color so I have to be aware.
3. Phone. Double duh.
These three things, when added to a drawing let you know that those lines, even though you can’t see it, are you.
It’s all you.
I’ve said to you a million times I wish you could see yourself the way that I see you. While I can’t logically pull my eyes out and implant them in you, the drawings are my way of showing you. Lez, you’re amazing. Just amazing. Whatever flaws you think you have add to the amazing.
And, until you yourself can finally see it, I guess I just have to keep practicing. You’re a pain in the ass, but I’m lucky to have the hurt.
Happy Birthday Sweetheart. Love you.
I realize now that posting this with the title “A New Direction” on April Fools Day instead of today would have created a greater impact. Live and learn.
Full disclosure: my arms are covered with much more hair than I’ve depicted…