ME-      My first book bought just for me was the Giant Golden Book of the Illiad and the Oydyssey illustrated by Alice and Martin Provensen.  It changed, or reinforced, my life.  The image above is of Menelaus about to settle things with Paris.  For sheer imagery of ancient, super-cool warfare nothing could have been better for a young boy who already had a history fixation.     .       I have always carried this image with me.  No other artwork, artifact or story has ever conveyed concentration on the job at hand as well as this does.  Now that I do a search comma the  above picture is of Paris.  No matter.  I got the idea at a young age.      Mom and Dad gave me an acoustic git-tar today.  It has electric strings but that will be fixed as soon as I get home to Austin.  Drawing of a neurotic, sexy, dangerous rabbit tuning an instrument on a ...

     Cold here on the coast.  Lots of retirees, one is advised to drive carefully.  Ambluatory fuckin' graveyard I mumbled as I tried to get around old women waiting for that parking space 10 feet closer to the store.  Very crowded as I went to get 88 cents worth of instant coffee.  Christmas music everywhere.  I was listening to that rock genius, Herman the German.  Real loud, of course.  Sunny but cold for Texas, about 55 degrees.       I just posted a mild diatribe on Inkbunny concerning the amount of sexualized children, called "cubs", that are up on that site.  Probably most if not all of the artists would never dream of harming a child.  But there sure is a lot of it there.  I am all for kinky, but it must be completely ethical and fairly legal.      Here is some Chrismas Bacon:      Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Cruxifi...

     Here I am rockin' out while waiting for laundry in Bastrop.  Slim Rhodes is playing, and I am being a public nuisance.  This is how I wait for clothes to finish cycling.  I never pay to dry them, unless I am wearing emergency (end of the basket) trousers.  They are size 34 and do no justice to my slim hips and arrogant bearing.      Greg is pissed off because he A). does not like Bastrop and B). does not like me.  One of my readers asked about him and because I told her I will tell you.  Greg was a tough, handsome stud who was cruel to animals.  About 1984, in Fort Worth, he tried to poke a kitten out from under a chair so he could shoot it, and yes, he had been drinking.  He used the butt of a 10 gauge side by side to do so, his great-grandfather's, but it was well-worn and the lock slipped and blew his head off.       He is now a sub-demon and cannot move on unless he comes up ...

     While drinking much coffee at Starbucks, my friend Katherine received a a call from one of the gang.  He wanted us to meet him at Opa's, a coffee place down Lamar a ways.  It is next to Bead It, a bead shop I look into to see if I can find useful bling for my belt projects.  I did not want to go but after Kate told me to about four times and promised to buy me a coffee I went.      I am glad I did.  Opa's is a great place with lots of atmosphere and a place to smoke outside, unlike Starbucks where we are not allowed to smoke but do anyway.  We met Bryan and congratulated him on his recent birthday.  He is a hell of a smart and nice person and it is an honor to know him.  While everyone was gossiping away I started a picture of me sitting under the oak tree drinking coffee.  The above is the first attempt, soon abandoned.  Into the recycle bin it goes.      Next...

     So this little dog I found, a Shih-Tzu, was an adorable, happy little thing that moved into my house and my life like she had been there always.  She nosed the cats, ate what I fed her, and slept next to me for three nights.  Monday I took her to check and see if she had been chipped.  I was certain that such a valuable and good little dog had a microchip implant.      She did not.      I was able to place her at a no-kill shelter where the pretty girl at the desk assured me that such a dog would be adopted as soon as they put her up for it, which would be the 30th.  The male attendant placed a leash on her and started to lead her into the room where a hundred unseen dogs were barking.  I stopped them and petted her one last time.      "Good bye, Mopsie"  I said to her.  She wagged her tail as she was led away.      I was back in the car ...

     I lifted this drawing from Graffo whilst he was occupied elsewhere.  Such  subtlety.   steve @_livingdog - Instagram

\      Very cold last night, and the wind started ripping my canvas off the top of the trailer.  I was out in shirtsleeves tying it and I knew I would get sick.  I did.  Speed was of the essence as I only had a little time before I had ripped tarp all over the river bottoms.      I am sick, and this is about as interested in this drawing as I am going to get.  I put myself to sleep last night reading De Quincey's essay on murder.  Good stuff.  I stayed in my shed til late, listening to 101.1 Sun Radio, Austin's best station for Outlaw country, Rockabilly and sundry others.  My guitar work is sounding smoother, if not good.      I was buried under cats this morning.      The answer to the title, is, of course, obvious!