Yeah, so it’s me again. I haven’t been posting a whole lot, lately. It’s not that there’s been no new artwork, but mostly digital sketches that are not likely to find their way to this blog.
However, last night, an offhanded remark from a stranger compelled me to whip a little something up that is perhaps worthy of sharing.
But first, the story.
[Scroll down now if you hate words.] Tony was visiting a friend out-of-town, so I decided to ‘indulge’ in a boatload of empty calories. Yes, it was a Taco-Bell-for-dinner night.
The day had been spent an a number of activities of varying degrees of utility. It started with a rare weekend half-day at the office. That was rewarded with a trip to Half Price Books that was remarkable in its affordability: a single, one-dollar comic book was all that came home. (For those who care it was an Uncanny X-men/Dark Avengers crossover called “Utopia: Chapter One” – illustrated by one of my all-time favorites, Marc Silvestri.)
The rest of the afternoon was occupied by chores around the house, and a little more progress on refinishing my stairs. After getting coated with dust from sanding, it was time for a quick shower. Before leaving the house, I popped a random documentary on the TV and started watching it while my hair dried. It was a slice of anarchic ennui called “Wasted Orient” about a Chinese punk band, Joyside.
Not caring to style my hair just to go through the drive through, I popped on a hat and headed out. The only complication was that I didn’t know what I wanted to order, and I can’t stand the pressure of deciding while holding up the line in the drive-through. I’d have to go inside.
As I left the car, saw myself in the car window, and noted that my hat looked ridiculous with the jacket I had on. I took it off and tossed it back into the car. Inside, I was quick to make up my mind, and stepped up to the counter. The kid took my order and added, “I like your hair”. I immediately countered asking with genuine incredulity, “Are you joking?” He was not. I foolishly touched it and sputtered something about not even knowing what it looked like, since I’d just been wearing a hat. Smooth. The guy quickly responded “No I just like the cut.” He’d offered me a way out of the awkwardness that I didn’t really deserve. I explained that my sister cuts my hair. The next thing I knew I was on my way home with a bag of Tex-Mex in the passenger seat.
It’s sad how unusual it is to get a random, mild compliment from a stranger.
Still somewhat in disbelief, I took a peek in the mirror. It did look nice. And since photography is my arch-enemy, I drew a picture of it instead.
I should explain that by this time I was also singing along with Suede at the top of my lungs, mugging like a rock-star. So there you have it. You can see the cut is very short on the sides, but fairly long and floppy on top. It was sort of jutting out near the crown in an interesting sort of way last night.
I used a looser, more expressive and arty style on the drawing: one that I’ve been trying to embrace more lately. It seems to fit.