Poet Girl. Dumb Guy.
Didn't update last Thursday because I was in the middle of a 40+ hour push at work. Pulling all-nighters, esp. after two nights in a row of 3 hours of sleep, is just not worth it to me any longer. Sometimes it has to be done but no one can honestly argue that you do your best work under those conditions. At least I don't. I didn't draw much over the weekend because PGOAT & I headed up to WonderCon in San Francisco & got to see my lovely friend Jules.
Because of all that, today's update is a bit of an oldie. And a combo, "Poet Girl & Dumb Guy." They're both tv sketches, done late at night, on the couch, probably with a drink close by. It's a nice de-tox from the day.
PGOAT & I are catching up on "House." We're only in Season 2 so we've got a lot ahead of us. Some poor sap was having a seizure in whatever episode we were watching, leading to this guy's Elvis Costello-meets-King Tut-meets-Joe Cocker pose. I didn't want to draw a medical emergency, so I turned it into another kind of emergency.
Unrelated, the very next night I sketched this girl inspired by a photo on the Sartorialist Blog. I don't know what she's holding in the photo but here it was clearly a journal, some love letters or a stack of poems. Flipping through my sketchbook I saw these back-to-back and immediately drew a line between them. A couple years ago I was the dumb guy who fell hard for a poet girl and, though I don't smoke, that picture could easily have been me, stopped dead in my tracks. The poet girl looks nothing like this but it doesn't matter. It all falls together in my head. The poem is "The Heart Under Your Heart" by the late Craig Arnold. The poet girl in question gave me a copy and I've loved it since.
The Heart Under Your Heart Who gives his heart away too easily must have a heart under his heart. —James Richardson
The heart under your heart is not the one you share so readily so full of pleasantry & tenderness
it is a single blackberry at the heart of a bramble or else some larger fruit heavy the size of a fist
it is full of things you have never shared with me broken engagements bruises & baking dishes
the scars on top of scars of sixteen thousand pinpricks the melody you want so much to carry & always fear black fear
or so I imagine you have never shown me & how could I expect you to I also have a heart beneath my heart perhaps you have seen or guessed
it is a beach at night where the waves lap & the wind hisses over a bank of thin translucent orange & yellow jingle shells
on the far side of the harbor the lighthouse beacon shivers across the black water & someone stands there waiting