Sounds kinda like a wrestling match: In this corner we have drawing. World light-weight champion. And in the other corner we have Illustration, arch enemy of Drawing. No holds bared, 10 rounds, catch-as-catch-can. Winner takes all.
It used to be that I’d dream up a post and then draw something to illustrate what I was talking about. That was a challenge cause I had to draw something specific that reflected what was written. Lately, I’ve been just drawing, and dreaming up some bullshit to go along with it (as is the case in this post). [But maybe ‘bullshit’ is too strong a word for the light-hearted, good-natured banter loaded with sexual inuendo which often times shows up on this blog, and should be reserved for political utterances. Although that type of ‘bullshit’ is more like a truth that everybody knows is a falsehood. Out right lying more aptly describes what politicians do, at least on my side of the pond.] Just about every post of late, is just another finished page out of my current sketch-book. Which when posted in chronological order tells a story, documents my progress as an artist, or is a case study in senior dementia.
Sometimes there’s some actual coherency to the drawings; but I’ll let you be the judge of that. Maybe I should get more serious about my art (such as it is), and take a life drawing class at the local community college. They probably wouldn’t let me in. They’d just be thinking, “here’s another old pervert wanting to see some titties.”
Oh well…maybe all this drawing is just what it is and no more. That would be fine.