A Sunken Outlook

It was just one of those mid 1970 pencil reflex draws, where nobody's around and you can do whatever the hell you want with your hand, without someone asking you what your doing. I used drafting pencils . . . a mechanical drafting pencil with somewhat soft lead. I'd put a tremendous amount of weight into the paper, balancing the absolute spasm necessary to express me innards. This was done on an index card, looking somewhat like a person very adjusted to his component architecture, or seating arrangement. This person is gazing out upon his element of control, much as a self confident denizen would survey the street from his low profile car; some such other description would also suffice. The line exuding from the cheek-nose suggestion, underneath the wiggly eye, isn't an incineration device. It was merely the act of holding on to the pencil and having that move drawn; then dealing with the result.

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