Somebody was drawing me on the subway tonight.When I told my brother Geoff that Dan was visiting over last weekend, he said "Is he the one who liked to draw you?" Yes. Dan drew me on more than one occassion. He drew many people. I hope. Anyway, I was standing on the train, and I noticed this guy standing by the door. He had a Village Voice in his hand, and a pad of paper on top of it. I noticed him writing earlier, but when I looked up periodically I noticed that he kept looking up at me. So I figured he was drawing me. And he was. He was standing right by the door, so when we were in the tunnels I could see the reflection of what he was working on in the glass. And lo and behold, there i was. It wasn't a bad rendering. My face was too thin though, and my hair was a bit off. But I was sort of impressed with my broad manly shoulders. I was alternately creeped out and flattered. I wish he would've let me see what he'd drawn, but I think that would have really creeped me out. He got out a stop before me, and I briefly humored the notion of grabbing his notebook as he got out, and shove him out the door as the doors closed. I further fantasized that I'd try to mouth to him "I'll leave it at the next station!" I didn't want to steal his sketchbook, because it's obviously a valued possession. But I wanted to see how it looked. i think i was entitled. He did draw me, afterall.
It's almost midnight. I think I'm going to lay down on my bed, put some music on, eat raisins, and read comic books. it really, really is the little pleasures that make life so worth living. happy monkey...
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