December 18, 2005
We had our True West Christmas party last night over at the Brinks. Robert Ray made homemade Tortilla Flats style chili. Everyone brought a dish and a gag gift ($10). A delightful time, no shop talk, lots of laughs. Got home about 9:30.

Cold out today. Got a fire going in the wood stove in my studio and another in the house fireplace. Kathy's making chicken fried steak for an early dinner this afternoon. Deena's coming out, Carole and Glenn and Grandma Betty. It's for a certain guy's birthday. I don't want to say who because John Spencer died on Friday. You know, the old guy on West Wing. He would have been 59 this coming week, the same age as the guy who doesn't want the attention.

I'm still on a roll with the six-drawings-every-day-regimen. Came close to missing a couple of days, like down in Tombstone, when I got back to the hotel after 14 hours of travel and shooting, but I forced myself. Quite a collection of images and a style is developing. My stated goal is to draw like John Bonham drummed: fearless, slash and burn and with total passion. It's a worthy goal, especially since I could never drum like him. Ha.

"John 'Bonzo' Bonham—drummer, genius, rock monster, public schoolboy, builder's son, bloke from the midlands, drag-racing fan, family man—was the greatest rock drummer ever to walk this planet. This is something you can say without upsetting anyone with anything to do with drumming, genius, rock-monstering, public school, building, the Midlands, drag-racing or families."
—Al Murray, in the English Esquire magazine