Drawn last week at the AGO with Maxzilla.
(Subtitle: Farts don't stink in an Art Gallery, Fool.)
Why won't the people sit still, don't they know who I am?
Idiots...
Then, on the way home, a crazy person threatened me with violence and death for drawing on the subway.
True story.
He was wearing one of those surgical facemask dealies and a Brian Blessed beard, stank of wee and carried a real "fuck-not" attitude. I piddled a bit and capitulated.
I now understand why people arrange to go in large groups when they subway sketch on a Sunday, like a legion of pale Roman Centurions in nut hugging denim, skizzenblocks like shields in the Testudo formation.
Still, same again next week.
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