Ostensibly, I went to the alps this summer for writing. For whatever reason, often, I found myself drawing instead. I have a history as an art major (no degree, just lots of studio time, a healthy appetite for criticism, and outlandish ideas about the inessential role of beauty in human forms of expression). This is to say, I used to draw all the time. But it has been years. This summer, sitting in front of my laptop/ a sandwich/ a new friend who was in the middle of telling an amazing tale about jumping from literal cliffs/ no matter where; absentmindedly my hands moved to capture something of the moment. Somehow most of the art student pretense has fallen away, and I’ve reverted to the cartoony metaphysical caricatures I loved drawing as a kid. In no particular order here are some of my favorites:
I will return soon with more articulate and deeper thoughts on travel, adventure, the world, and our place in it. Until then I will be glancing at these pictures and thinking of the very real friends, times, and places that they represent. These silly cartoons will transport me back to that place where life had only one easy to understand focus. Time existed only to fill with acts of creation. Creation of literature. Creation of art. Creation of friendship. Creation of unstoppably goofy laughter and stories to good to be believed.