Still working on a logo for a friend of mine who wants a Cave Creek Cowboy and a Tonto Apache aligned and gazing at the same future. Did six sketches, this being the most recent.
Also working on a love letter to growing up on Route 66. Sent this page of old photos down to Dan The Man's this afternoon. This is out of my grandparent's photo album showing my father's gas station in Peach Springs in 1947.
This was where I got my arm in a washing machine ringer. I have a bad scar on the inside crook of my left arm but thanks to Dr. Arnold in Kingman, I can still use my left arm. Frankly, I'm somewhat amazed I made it this far. In addition to putting my hand in the washing machine wringer in Peach Springs, because I was fascinated by the contraption, I also leaned in a stock tank on the Bell family farm and almost drowned. I was saved by a Ladies Aid woman who saw my feet flailing in the air as I leaned over and went right in. I also was enamored of an elevator conveyor belt driven that was loading corn out of my grandfather's corn crib and I would have rode it, but my grandfather was onto my poor judgement and took me down to the house where my grandmother tied me to the clothesline on a leash. They still laugh about this in Iowa whenever I go back.
Anyway, I often wonder how I made it to the here and the now. This is the theme of a song I have been listening to quite a bit lately. As you probably already know, I absolutely love Loudon Wainwright's album Older Than My Old Man Now. One song could have been written about my own life, including the year of my birth (and the motive of my parents):
"Whatever it is that hits the fan will not be evenly distributed."
—Old Vaquero Saying