A Sketchy Pastime

Like most neurotic cartoonists, I sketch and doodle compulsively whenever circumstance permits, partly because it's great practice, but principally because it obtains creative release (try as you may, but there's no innuendo in there). It is, by all accounts, one of the more pleasurable solitary diversions in life: It's just me, my canvas, and my imagination working in perfect concord.

That said, I keep virtually all of my sketches--I've even created a special "Art Hutch" (stores up to twelve types of art!) for that purpose. Very few people have ever laid eyes upon the contents of the said codex, and for good reason: An entire day could be spent scrounging therein. But I digress: I draw, and I draw frequently.

So what am I thinking of when I'm sketching, pray tell? Not to sound haughty, but I'm not sure that words can adequately capture the process, though I can say with absolute certitude that it's at once immensely rewarding and nearly trance-like--the same holds true for drawing in general.

Anyhow, a few comments about the sketch itself: I was really satisfied with how the lass on the far right turned out. She was a bit biffer at first, but I think that I made the right amendments. Otherwise, I'm similarly pleased with the dire beatnik and portly French intendant--who, by the way, started out as a nearly unintelligible jumble of lines--and yes, that's definitely Jesus as a mildy sleazy suburban soccer coach. All in all, a fine way to murder time.

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