Buttnekkiddoodles

Latest installment from the graphic novella The Java Knot. “So, it’s more than a habit… this pull to draw out in public. I don’t bring a book to read, I’m too fidgety for that. I’d rather check out my surroundings. Mostly, if honesty overtakes me, I prefer to watch people. Closely. Some would call it staring. But that sounds too passive to me. I go over them like an eagle casing the river below, looking for movement beneath the surface. Trying at times to understand the substructure of cheek bones, jaw muscles, the coordination of a hand’s architecture as it returns coffee cup to saucer then glides to flip the page of a book. But I also watch, as if, like the eagle’s penetrating glare beneath the waves, I can sense a current of thought. Knit brows, pinching lips, the coordinated grip of the masseter and temporalis muscles setting molars firmly into their opposing cousins. Frustration? Displeasure? Disapproval? Disgust? And will my drawings capture a fleeting moment of unguarded commentary, which, if elusive to presumptuous certainty, feels as though I’m now driving the streets of that someone’s neighborhood.
I sauntered to my recently favored cafe to find an interesting looking gent, with long uncoiling ringlets of Grey hair, seated curbside at a table, both hands occupied, one with coffee, the other with cellphone. I seated myself at an adjacent table such that we were facing each other, if obliquely. He no sooner placed his cup, empty, upon the table than the waitress appeared from within the shop and replaced the depleted cup with a full one. ‘Keep ‘em coming?’ she asked. ‘Keep ‘em coming’, he said. She turned directly to me, and asked my pleasure as I pulled sketchbook and pens from my satchel. Hot cocoa, bitter, no whip.
About then, a bicyclist coming up the street, glided along side the curb, slowed, nearly stopping beside the gent working his second cup, deftly laying an envelop on the table before him, and continued on. No exchange of words, nor looks. No nod. As I opened my sketchbook to a fresh page with little fanfare, the envelope slid into his jacket in like fashion with the hand returning to cradle the cup. His heavy lidded eyes never wandered from the cell’s screen.
I had payed little attention to the parking meter directly behind him, but as I began laying in the preliminary lines of his head, torso, the table and meter, I was amused to see the words PAY HERE backing his right arm. The very arm which had retrieved the envelope as if an extension of the meter.”

Drawn with Faber-Castell Pitt Artist Pens and fountain pen on Stillman & Birn Beta Series sketchbook.

 
Maybe this will answer some of your burning questions connected to Geese. Giamila and I were walking along the shore of Lake Michigan in Chicago’s Lincoln Park. Chitown has a large resident population of big and beautiful Canada Geese. Well, they’re ardent grazers and Christ on a bike but do they leave a whole lotta fowl loaves where they roam. So, in the interest of science and understanding Nature, let’s talk bird poop. Okay then, uppermost in your minds….”What’s with those Green & White Lincoln logs “? Well, that earthy green is due to their primary diet of grass and green vegetation. Lot’s of it. “How MUCH Doc?!” you ask…well, enough that the end product yields about 2 pounds a day per bird. Your average human drops a daily no. 2 at around 1 pound – give or take depending on height + weight + diet and if you’re an active bowler. A 6’5” Texan pushin’ 300lb that consumes a full rack o’ ribs, 3/4lb of brisket, smoked turkey drumstick, 2 links of smoked Polish sausage, 1/2 pint o’ pinto beans, 1/2 pint o’ potato salad, 1/2 pint o’ slaw, 2 squares of cornbread, cup o’ rice puddin’ and big ol’ wedge of peach cobbler with oatmeal crumble and 2 softball sized scoops of vanilla ice cream on top each and every dinner….well, we won’t go there. “Uhhhh… well how ‘bout that White stuff?” Good eye! That signature look is due to the evolutionary efficiency of simultaneously eliminating #1 & #2. #1 comes out as a white paste of nitrogenous uric acid that minimizes water loss to the bird. Two for one. Cool, eh? Now them birds can have a go up to 28 times a day, with the resultant dropping as represented in the upper left of the sketch. But Giamila & I saw the occasional pilling like that shown in the center of my sketch and the accompanying close up. We refer to this as ‘stool stacking’ and believe it to be the result of multiple excrements of perhaps 6-8 birds. This could be territorial marking in several ‘overlays’ or it could be a form of clutch bonding. Either way, the activity appears to be well rehearsed and tidy to boot. Just remember to to keep the dogs and kids away as that honker’s stool is a mini bus bursting with pathogenic passengers. Get a load of the list of ‘em on my sketch. In fact, a substantial population of them creatures can overwhelm the chemistry of small bodies of water. “What’s the solution to THAT Doc?”, you ask. Well, it IS Thanksgiving. Maybe you give turkeys a reprieve this next year.
 
Drawn with Faber-Castell Pitt Artist Pens on a Stillman & Birn Gamma Series sketchbook.

 
“Dogged pursuit. A month ago, I caught him, crouched over the shadowed keyboard and sunken screen. Same kiosk. Just as focused in the same gathered one-size-fits-all ball cap and banker’s bold pinstripes. Posture alternating between ankles crossed beneath the chair seat or stretched out before him. The library can be a noisy place with the self obsessed soliloquies, tutoring sessions, snoring, and phone calls but no distractions, no matter how grating or abrupt, pulled his jowly face from feasting on the grey-blue screen. And there’s a certain disinterestedness to these large rooms that excepting the acknowledging pinched grins of the passing regulars, allows for the in and out of the anonymous. Your business remains your business. Except these and those I chose to make my business.
And this guy, the crouching tiger in banker’s black’n’blue stripes, tracking something over the internet savanna, had come to my attention several times over the course of many months. But it was just last month, at the same booth, in the familiar attire and riveted posture, that I had inked his memory into my library. He really was a calm study. Little changing as I drew. The right mitt releasing the trapped mouse to tap the keys beneath his chin. The left mostly at rest on the desk yet dropping to tap at the keyboard or rising to knead his forehead.
Focus. No sign of fatigue, or boredom. No calls interrupting that steady gaze. Was he lying in wait, or had he already sunk his teeth in? Was this a cat-n-mouse game of gaining info and ground on the game while yielding as little of his position to the digital predation of marketers and hackers? To bring home the bacon without being lured into a poacher’s snare.” A snippet from the amorphous online graphic novella, The Java Knot.

Drawn with a Faber-Castell Essentio Black Leather fountain pen and Pitt Artist Pens

 
Thinking about Faustian repercussions. Nasty old Mr. Krampus has a fondness for naughty boys come Christmas.

Zombie Moolah – A Scam 4 All Seasons. Dadgummit!! I shoulda known. They never wear out this formula. They got you thinking, well, I think it’s really dead THIS time. Da monster’s kaput. They finally swept the town clear of the undead, the last one has sunk into the ooze of the epilogue. The music softens, the camera pans the still swamp, toads are croaking, and a lone violin holds a jittery note….DAYUM!!!! The Zombie Hydra of Hysteria comes sputtering back up out of the murky goo and it looks like mayhem is about to set loose all over again!! I get suckered every time. I was totally inspired by Giuliani‘a impassioned challenge to the electoral process, as if Postmaster ‘G’ DeJoy & the govs of Texas, NC, and Georgia hadn’t given it their best. Sumbody’s jiss gotta git to da bottum of this vote fraud thing! And who better’n a bottom dwelling reptile skilled in Rudimentary survival in the Beltway Bayou with a nose for filthy lucre? An old pro who knows a patron’s impending prison sentence when he doth seize one. That mad-as-a-hatter Sanpaku gaze outta be the clue it’s all about the Benjamins. As I was drawing Rudi’s top choppers and tinting his skin toady green, I kept asking myself, “where have I seen….” then it dawned on me! Yupper, Jim Carrey nailed him years ago. Separated at birth?????
 

Drawn with #fabercastellusa Pitt Artist Pens and Albrecht Dürer Watercolour Markers on #clairefontaine Stillman & Birn Gamma Series sketchbook.