A world away

Everytime I go, Montréal amazes me. It's not so much Canadian...it doesn't feel European...distinctly Québécois.

It's a bit of a hike...more like 6 hours drive, including time at the border check. But the drive is so pretty...NH mountains, Vermont rolling hills, Québéc flat farm country.

After spending a week in Boston, I drove Xavier and Jeff up north—it was just too long since I'd left the country.

We got off to a late start, doing some laundry, packing a lunch, dropping Aggie off at Elena's, and then on to Sherman Cafe. Xavier had bonded with the staff and food at Sherman's...I think he was as sad to leave it as he was to leave Aggie!

Crawling our way through NH, we stopped in my home town for a snack and wine (none for me, driving) at my parents' house. And then a quick stop at the outlet mall for a bargain or two. Our next pitstop was St. Johnsbury VT. A charming little town, but kinda tough to get a decent cup of coffee. Listen up, Sherman.

At the border, we met THE FRIENDLIEST border guard. She joked around with us in French and English. She stamped Xavier and Jeff's passports, but not mine (not required). I knew I could clown with her, so I asked for a stamp, which she cheerfully provided.

That night, after some food and a nap, we went to a jazz bar (which I had coincidentally been to before, on my last trip to Montréal with Andy). Afterward, we walked through Le Village and stopped at a lesbian club for a drink. On the terrace was a straight couple, she providing a BJ to him, as if they weren't surrounded by 25 other patrons. Gross.

Playing pool, Xavier won...as he won every other game we played during his trip.

One or two?

Xavier and I were taking the T downtown to meet up with Jeff after his Sunday matinee of the ballet. Waiting in the station, we observed a loud-spoken older lady, with crutches, wearing a lot of black.

We were neither far nor close, and for the longest time we thought she had but one leg. Xavier was nonplussed by the uni-leg, as if he sees this thing all the time. He noted the crutches as if it was a natural conclusion to therefore have only one leg.

Sufficiently convinced, we went about our conversation until she shifted position, and revealed a second leg! Color us surprised.

I guess it was an optical illusion of all that black clothing, plus her position, plus our distance from her.

When Xavier said "oooo, she has two legs!" he seemed more surprised at the idea than her only having one.

I'm glad she has two, for her sake.

Ladies' Night

PREMISE: I notice, draw, and post, hot men "more than anything else" (ugly men, pretty or ugly women).

REALITY: Aside from fictional characters I draw; aside from drawing the people I know
(most of those drawings are of Adam, Matt, or women I work with); aside from my travel
sketches (which I draw men, women, scenery, and moments, all pretty equally), careful
analysis shows:

Ratio of men:women = 1.57:1

So, TRUE, I pay more attention to men than women, but not even double!
And, TRUE, the men I draw tend to be fit and handsome.

While my analysis proves to myself that overall it's not so one-sided, I
will make a better attempt at equality. To start this, I happily post some
sketches of ladies I've seen and drawn in the past months.

On the subway en route to South Station, I noticed these two ladies. One haggard
and hooker-ish, the other nicely put together but wasn't dealing with her receding
hairline very well...rather, accentuating it.

Overdue

For this Monday-after-TCAF anniversary of sorts (the last time, the loss of faith, the end), I post the first drawings I did of Matt.

Shaggy B&W, then one of his big legs. Then, the version he colored and uses as his avatar for most of his online profiles as of the last time I looked, a few months back.

There is another sketch series that will never be posted though, despite the fact that it might actually be more relevant to this date.

You probably get what I mean.

It struck me what a powerful anniversary month May is for me now, and what I was going through last year. Closing on my loft...saying good-bye to my grandmother...the aforementioned...prepping my space...moving...my grandmother's passing...living in a new space while fixing it up. I was so overwhelmed, and shut down and off. What a remarkable year it's been since...crawling out of the pit. Much, much better now.

America vs. evil empires, or "USA! USA! USA!"

Like millions of Americans, I was asleep by the time the news of Osama bin Laden's death was announced; I read about it the next morning.

I was surprisingly moved. My first reaction was to be transported to that morning, remember where I was, what I was doing, how I felt. How I felt the rest of that day. I thought of my friends and loved ones and where they were, what they were feeling and experiencing. Images of the people jumping off the towers flashed through my mind...I imagined what it must have been like to have been in one of the planes, realizing you were about to die. It was a somber moment.

Next, I was disgusted by the revelry in Times Square, the chanting at the Mets/Phillies game, and such. Shirtless, presumably drunk, college boys running around with American flags as capes. It looked like a cross between 4th of July and St Patrick's Day.

Shame on you.

Celebration is for the end of war, the end of violence. This is not over. Decades of Western oppression have created some really bad blood, to say the least. What attacks are next? What terrorist organization and leader will emerge now? What will the US's relationship with Pakistan look like? To say nothing of how ape-ish, war-mongering, hateful, the Times Square photos look to the rest of the Western world, as well as those who despise this country.

A sense of closure? I hope so. A sense of peace, or inner peace? I really hope so, for the people who experienced that awful day. Partying? Jubilation? I'm sorry, you made me sad.

Click forward a few days and I drew this lovely rendition of the villainous Nazi, the Red Skull, pursued by the Falcon and Captain America on a meeting agenda. I had my Stradlaeter brush pen with me, so I was able to ink about half of it during the meeting, and I finished the rest (and eliminated much of the agenda with white out and p-shop) later. Definitely feel like I am channeling my inner Andy Soriano.

Common ground

PREMISE #1) I am generally not a fan of country music.

PREMISE #2) I am generally not a fan of Dolly Parton songs.

PREMISE #3) I generally don't make a lot of effort to find common ground for dis-common interests.

Well, I've been having a lot of fun listening through the Dolly Parton catalog and watching video clips in search of songs I like. I certainly don't like them all, and I don't think she'll be my go-to when I need a musical hug, but I have found a number of songs that I enjoy. So, a double-whammy (enjoying the process AND the outcome)!

I watched Coal Miner's Daughter, too. I was delighted to learn that the song during the end credits of the Strangers With Candy episode where Jeri learns she's an Indian turns out to be Loretta Lynn singing the "Squaw is on the Warpath" song. Fun!

Fear not, Fish-philes—country is not taking the place of lounge in my heart, and France Gall still makes me smile big.

Anyway, here's a drawing I did of "pretty miss Dolly" as she appeared signing the "Jolene" song in 1974.

Girly tomboy

Here's another of my favorite tomboy (and likely lesbian) Debbie that I draw from time to time (see other tagged posts).

Just like the way this one turned out for some reason, it's nothing special.

She's kinda girl-ed up here, and I suppose she's shooting down the boy who is trailing after her in other sketches.

I've been drawing some Arche-Lady pages for the upcoming Arche-Lady Special #11. But I've been itching to do a sketch or two inspired by my latest quest to enjoy finding common ground on non-mutual interests! Soon!