Portrait Exchange!

Lisa Perrin of Lisa Perrin has drawn a portrait of me! Ok I admit I just wanted her to draw someone of me, so I tugged and whinnied my way into convincing her it was a super cool art thing to do portrait exchanges.

Lisa Perrin is a fellow representational artist that is working hard at making a name for herself in the paper doll field. Doing a right job of it too, she's been in magazines and interviews. Making that paper!

If you want to see my version, you'll have to check out her site.

I actually really love how she handled me. I can tell that it's based on some serious conversations we've had together. In a way this is a much more telling portrait than the one I did a couple weeks ago.

It makes me question my own rendition, a little, but I genuinely believe mine is a side of Lisa that very few people see.

Behold!

I wanted to post this as one big comic that you could simply use the scroll button to read. It seems the file was simply too big. Oh well.

I'll bet Julia Child made some big ones.

The great influences...

When I was a kid we'd visit my Grandma every year in Baltimore, Maryland. My Grandma was a real lady of class, but also a grade A spitfire. I'd like to think that I'd get along well with Twain if I ever met him, but I know he'd have a ball with my Grandma. She could easily be a character out of one of his stories.

My Grandma's home reflected her spirit with a grace I've never seen in any other abode. Antiques, works of art, and all arranged perfectly. The last time I ever visited her while she was alive I actually had the sense to photograph every room. Had I a better camera at the time I would have taken more.

Growing up one of my favorite rooms was the study, which had the most comfortable yellow couch, and a magnificent bookcase. I never paid much mind to any of the books except for one. Only seeing the spine, "The Complete Mark Twain" was my favorite tome, the only one with a picture.

One day I ceased enough gall to actually remove the book from the case, to which I was astonished to find the illustration even larger printed on the cover. I quickly put it back, it was too much of a good thing. In hindsight of everything, I've always had subtle introductions to Twain that warmed me to him even before I read anything of his. This book was one of them.

When I inherited the volume I sought to read the whole book. I opened it up and it snapped in half.

That's life.

It seems to me now too great a coincidence that Kurt Vonnegut wrote the introduction.