Tired of stick figures.

I stood and watched as she flipped through the pages lazily. Pages of doodles with class notes inserted sparingly between them. All dwarfed by the blank pages. Notebooks full of these pages. She mentioned something about sketches and it was at that moment that it dawned on me. I am a cartoonist without a sketchbook. I mean, sure, I doodle and sketch things in my actual notebooks or on random pieces of paper in my room but I've never had a notebook--a sketchbook--to put all of them in exclusively.

And so I got one.

Well, I already had one, but it was empty. I thumbed through the pages to make sure. I gathered my drawing utensils and cleared away some clutter from my desk. My drawing desk which has apparently been repurposed as a "dump all of your shit on top of it in haphazardly constructed piles so that you can't use it or find anything on it" desk. I flipped open to the first page and put my pencil to the paper.

And suddenly I didn't have anything to draw.

Comments

Spen said…

dude.......i like

July 26, 2009 at 10:31 PM

Pseudo-science (like psych).

I consider myself a man of science. I try to approach problems and deal with them logically, using observations previously recorded to handle new problems. So of course my interest was piqued when someone I knew posited that men are needier and more complicated than women. An interesting theory. But to properly examine it, one must understand the concept of sexual selection and its two aspects: male competition and female choice. Which brings us to point one: men are needier [in relationships] than women. This is true. In a natural/primal setting, the males are generally love-'em-leave-'em kinds of guys. Their main objective is to reproduce as much as they can. Humans, in their infinite wisdom, have decreased the emphasis on this to the point where it has become a footnote in male purpose. Civilization dictates that, instead of finding a partner for the sole purpose of reproduction, males find females for life companionship. With the effective removal of their natur

Just the stirring in my soul.

I, really, kind of don't want to be here anymore. Not in the sense that I am dissatisfied with my life or my present situation--which isn't to say that I'm not , because I am in a way--but in the sense that I am dissatisfied with the lack of things happening. I keep looking around. Out the window of my room. Out the window of my car. Out the window of the living room. I want to be on the other side of that glass. That's where the action is. I need, desperately, an adventure. I need to go somewhere. See something. Anywhere, anything. I don't care where or what as long as it's happening. I want to travel so badly. Grab my backpack and my camera and walk away. I'd settle for going to the same state park I've been to a hundred times over. It's this routine I'm stuck in. Seeing the same shit every day, going through the same motions. I need to change it up, break things. I need some vitality--being cooped up is killing me. What I re

No, Holmes, no!

All I ever think about these days is how much I have to/want to study. I hope that's not how I have a good time, now. Would I rather go hang out with peeps or would I rather sit in and study? It is a difficult question to answer. Just a couple more days and then I can focus all my energy on the next greatest idea I've ever had: iconic detectives and sharks.

everything is fine

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