Hello Breckenridge, Colorado!

He was a good businessman and even better at catching mice.

Last of the men in hats hops off the coil
And a final scene unfolds inside
Deep in the rain of sparks behind his brow
Is a part replayed from a perfect day
Teaching her how to whistle like a boy
Love’s first blush

Is this making sense,
What I’m trying to say?
Early evening June
This room and a radio play
This I need to save
I choose my final thoughts today
Switching off with you

All the clocks give in
And the traffic fades
And the insects like a neon choir
The instant fizz
Connection made
And the curtains sigh
In time
With you

You, the only sense the world has ever made
Early evening June
This room and radio play
This I need to save
I choose my final scene today
Switching off

Ran to ground for a while there
But I came off pretty well

You, the only sense the world has ever made
This I need to save
A simple trinket locked away
I choose my final scene today
Switching off with you

-Elbow, “Switching Off”

Just finished watching Seven Samurai for Japanese Cinema class.

Rachel is your drawing for today. She didn’t notice until it was already too late.

At least now I know why I am missing one sock out of every pair I have.

“Aw, man.”

Me again.  Bleeeeeh.

I call this one “Spelunking with Derrida.”

Daily Doodle giveaway! This sweet bookmark shall be yours if you are the first person to post your snail mail address as a comment (here, not on Facebook for those of you who access my drawings from there).

Kitty kitty kitty kitty kitty kitty.

And more, if you’re interested:

First essay for Shelf Life class due tomorrow, but I have to finish tonight if I want to hang out with my friends. Ugh.

Everything can be read, every surface and silence, every breath and every vacancy, every eddy and current, every body and its absence, every darkness every light, each cloud and knife, each finger and tree, every backwater, every crevice and hollow, each nostril, tendril and crescent, every whisper, every whimper, each laugh and every blue feather, each stone, each nipple, every thread every color, each woman and her lover, every man and his mother, every river, each of the twelve blue oceans and the moon, every forlorn link, every hope and every ending, each coincidence, the distant call of a loon, light through the high branches of blue pines, the sigh of rain, every estuary, each gesture at parting, every kiss, each wasp’s wing, every foghorn and railway whistle, every shadow, every gasp, each glowing silver screen, every web, the smear of starlight, a fingertip, rose whorl, armpit, pearl, every delight and misgiving, every unadorned wish, every daughter, every death, each woven thing, each machine, every ever after

Here is a spread for today.

Once upon a time, there were six swans.

I hate everything.

I will be posting one drawing per day for three hundred and sixty five days. Today is January 20, 2010 and this is officially post number 1. I am doing this for two reasons. First and foremost, I need the practice. Drawing is something you lose if you don’t do it every day. Second, I want to demystify the process of making art. People think that I pull this shit out of my ass. Oh, Leah, you’re so talented. Oh, I could never do that, I’m just not creative.

I’ll tell you what. I don’t pull this shit out of my ass. I work. The only way to get better is to practice. And this will be a document of me. Practicing. Art is a  unique combination of concept and skill – you have to have both, and if you lack one or the other, you will suck, and you will suck hard.

I don’t have a grand vision of people lining up to ask me for advice, because I feel like I still have a hell of a lot left to learn. But here’s some for free anyway, because I think that ending with the phrase “suck hard” sounds too naughty: Nothing good in life comes easy, but practice and preparation will help get you there.