I'm a-drownin' in projects. Sometimes, you just gotta take a break and sketch.
Pipe smoking has always invoked a delicious, warm masculine feeling. So many wise and wonderful men have mastered the art of pipe smoking -- Einstein, Steinbeck, Twain, Sherlock Holmes, Gandalf. I can't help but think a bit better of an older gentleman with a pipe in his hand and his eyes in the clouds.
I had this great uncle, he was a monk in this giant old monastery and we'd go visit him every year on my birthday. He was sort of wild for a man of the church -- sneaking out, smoking his pipe, hand drawing and programming elaborate computer games (before computers were popular), and spending long nights in his print shop... he was a groovy guy. He also had a penchant for making elaborate boats out of milk cartons which is probably the epitome of awesome in my book. It may have just been his pipe or wild gray hair, but he embodied the free spirited wise man that I idolize so much. He was my real-life Steinbeck.
Good night, darling reader.
If I was myself a piper, I'd think of you as I inhaled the dreams of the world.
His and hers, yours and ours,