Our basement is a giant-economy-size version of Fibber McGee’s closet, and all kinds of miscellany lurk there. Furniture. Hundreds of LP’s. Thousands of books. Teaching supplies. Old Mad magazines. Old National Lampoons. Stuffed animals from our kids’ Snot-Nose Days.
And a sketch pad containing figure studies I did back in 1972, when I took a drawing class in college.
Most of the stuff in there is absolute shite - I tend toward the cartoonish in both my drawing and my thinking - but there are a few half-decent pieces. Here’s one I liked.
What I really want to find is the pile of cartoony sketches I did back in junior high and high school. Now there’s some Fine Art. Snarf.
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