So, hmm.

Here is a picture for you. I made it!

Sixth Avenue, Park Slope

(Thank you, all, for your thoughtful and 99.9% non-hurtful responses to my last post. It's been difficult to respond to all the comments or emails, I'm a little overwhelmed, and I'm feeling the need to hermitize--is that a word? that's not a word--for a bit. I'm just going to get into my blanket fort, over here. Which is not to shut you guys up. Let the conversation continue! I'm just going to maybe read Cute Overload for a while, as I do, while re-contemplating daily psychotherapy.)

I always take a photo of something I want to draw and then sketch it at home, because how do people sketch things out in the world? At least around here, the minute you pause to gaze artily at something you know someone's going to sidle up to you and watch you at work. Which, look, this is not a spectator sport. If you watch me draw I'm going to become terribly self-conscious and feel compelled to just scrawl something horrible all over it, like a cartoon penis. A big penis coming out of a building like an awful chimney!

(Oh, now I'm writing about penises again. Goddammit.)

In conclusion, here is a boxer puppy, meeting some cows.