I ran across an old sketchbook of mine. As I looked through it, I was struck by how much I could remember about my life back then just by looking at those drawings. I had to laugh about this one. His name is Ralph and is as accurate a portrait I could manage. His breath could kill at 10 paces, but my friend CC spoiled him rotten. One day he got out and ran down the street straight to the nearest drug dealer on the corner. CC tracked him down and apologized. He would always try to get away, you had to make sure of the latch on the gate and always carry bacon in your pocket. I haven’t seen CC in some time, it’s been years and I have no idea how Ralph is doing these days, but this drawing bridges all those years and it seems just like yesterday.
I’ve scanned some more old sketchbook drawings, they’re in the flickr bar. I’ve had this particular book since my last year in college (2001) and It still has some pages left.
