This past week, I've been wrestling with an intense illustration project which I finished today but cannot show on JSVB, at least not yet. The rest of the afternoon, I planned to blow off by playing videogames. However, I was stuck in graphic artist mode and the my computer opponent had me for a mid-afternoon snack.
I decided to work out some art stress by attempting to sketch out a cute pin-up pose. Once I was finished the basic structure, I began to add the details. In the middle of that was when the phone rang. Heather was calling. She wanted to speak with my wife, who was out.
"I'll leave my number, Jeff. Do you have something to write that down?"
I groan, perhaps inwardly, maybe Heather could hear me; I don't know, I don't care. I shuffle around my desk looking for a pen when I realize that I have my unfinished sketch right in front of me.
"Go ahead," I tell her, and deface my artwork with her number. That's why there's a "Heather" in the upper corner. I blacked out the number because you don't need to see that. Maybe the pin-up model's name is Heather. Maybe the phone-call Heather looks like that on a bicycle. Let's go with that, shall we?
Posts
