Wednesday, April 25, 2012

if- Hieghts

The first time I saw him I thought that he was part of a movie being made. Dressed in black, head to toe, 1960's style motorcycle helmet, black gloves with the fingers cut off, wielder's glasses on. But then I started seeing him almost everyday, early in the morning on a busy street.  You see I drove a muffin route 3 days a week through Los Angeles, Hollywood and beyond. He was part of that beyond as he rode a home made push scooter with a broom stick handle and skateboard wheels. There was a fine layer of city grit on him.  Who was he?  Then one day he revealed himself as I was stopped at a traffic light. I looked at him and this time he looked back at me.  Our eyes meet.  He smiled an uneven grin and raised his arms to reveal wings made of old umbrellas.  The light changed to green.  I drove on and I assume he flew off for I never saw that batman again.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Random Notes

The best sketchbook drawings to do are the ones where you draw and stuff happens and you don't even understand how they came to be.

Monday, April 16, 2012


A few weeks back I went to a "required meeting". I was puzzled the whole time there.  The speaker never really said what the meeting was about except that it was "required".  Maybe "required" was the true subject. The speaker appeared well groomed.  But I noticed an oddity in that the speaker danced around on stage, with   his eyes spinning in opposite directions from one another. Seemingly  the dance was with his soul to avoid it entering his body. Then when asked a question the presenter would say, "Let me step back for a moment."  And he actually would, he would physically take a step back.  I left the meeting with my eyes spinning in puzzlement, too.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012


The year is 1987 and I drive, with a friend, in a beat up, red 1965 Ford Mustang to San Francisco. We have sketchbooks, pencils, pens and cameras loaded with black and white film. We find a cheap place to stay and roam the City as explorers and adventurers. So much wonder to see when you have no expectations of  how things should be. At one point we browse City Lights Bookstore and then head up the street to Cafe Trieste for coffee. I'm just learning about coffee, espresso is a new thing for me. So I order a cafe latte which comes in a soup bowl sized cup.  In my mind, I think "latte" means a lot of coffee.  We get buzzed on the coffee, draw in our sketchbooks in an almost perfect moment.  Then breaking the silence a man with a goatee and beret stands up from his seat and says, " I've finished it.  I've finished my poem." and he proceeds to read it aloud.  He finishes and the patrons all applaud him. Wow! the perfect moment got even better.