Working every morning on memories of the road. One of the rituals I remember is proudly posing beside your car. The only thing better would have been to have a certain girl IN your car, but that was usually just part of the dream.
![](http://api.ning.com:80/files/-A0wW*3E92lUVmx8OCTS74YHWDzq9Rv01d7pv9g5CxmzubigTpOXFAtjda*dBzxrLph5k0yv16589hiyueKrv8eZ*ItNNurU/carstandingsketches.jpg)
And when I was a kid guys got status by being able to draw flames. I wasn't very good at it. One time Wendell Havatone asked me to draw flames for a cool car and I botched the assignment.
![](http://api.ning.com:80/files/-A0wW*3E92njTEy5qU1QPbZwlqURBG-vLazMQjv5wP1en6UDYqmpIws6nqrECk2Ov-2rKQs2f-1oqzLc-GwVEPL-3uhwcROM/robertflores.jpg)
Still trying to nail the rippling heatwaves on the horizon:
![](http://api.ning.com:80/files/-A0wW*3E92kjXYI3O*HN9R-DGTg1HCVkEsDSyBUknaffLX6U7QFb1NZgsVj8oM*sGhluPi7zVSAm*ULJPxb9BT07rlpzxWID/heatwaveshorizonsketch.jpg)
"History is the a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man."
—Percy Bysshe Shelley