These quicker sketches are like coloring book pages for semi-adults.

17. “Well, we’ll go swimmin’ every day/no time to work, just time to play”—“Summertime”—The Jamies = LAND, LOST


18. No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service = BRASH BOOMBOX

19. “But to go to school in a Summer morn’/ O, it drives the joy away”—William Blake = BEAT BOREDOM

20. Midnight Sun = SHINING STAR

21. “Summer has come in/ Loudly sing, Cuckoo!”—Medieval English Rota = GIRLISH GIGGLES

22. “A flash of lightning: into the gloom goes the heron’s cry”—Matsuo Basho = BIRD BRAIN

23. Spittoons, Horseshoes and Croquet = STRIFE OF THE STRIPES

24. “And it’s two bare feet on the dashboard. Young love and an old Ford/ Cheap shades and a tattoo.” –“Summertime” as sung by Kenny Chesney = CHESNEY CROONS A CHICK


I’ve been holding off from posting these for a little bit now – I think it’s mostly because I wanted them to be a surprise for a bigger project. But due to financial/time constraints I really won’t have an opportunity to do this later so…


8. “Springtime is on my mind/Flower bloomin’ all the time/Smell the roses, smell the grass/Old man Winter can kiss my ass”—Spinal Tap = KLOWN KISS-OFF

9. “It’s springtime, it’s springtime,/There’s blue sky in a puddle,/There’s a bird on the ground,/Dog on the roof,/Chirp, chirp, woof, woof,”—Jeffrey Lewis = CONFUSED CANINE

10. “Licking a bamboo leaf’s spring rain…mouse”—Matsuo Basho = LEGITIMIZING LUSTSHIP (couldn’t decide which one to post)

11. “When Winter’s here, yeah, it’s party time!/Bring your bottle, wear your bright clothes/It’ll soon be summertime”—Mungo Jerry =  PARTY PEOPLE

12. “Waking From Drunkenness on a Spring Day”—Li Po = AGITATION, ALONE

13. “All the flowers of the Spring meet to perfume our burying”—John Webster = TRADITIONAL TREASURES

14. Suntan Oil and the Smell of Bacon Frying = BURNED BUM

15. “Well, I didn’t go to work/told the boss I was sick ‘Well, you can’t use the car ‘cause you didn’t work a lick’”—Eddy Cochran = FEAR AND FINANCES

16. Beach Blanket Bingo = MICKEY MOUSER


Yes, I was very bad – but I want to make it up to you! Here are drawings made from inspirations seen from Day 3 to Day 7:

3. “All Nature seems at work/ Slugs leave their lairs—The bees are stirring—Birds are on the wing”—Samuel Coleridge

day 3_bold birds
Bold Birds

4. “Rise and put on your foliage, and be seen/ To come forth, like the springtime, fresh and green,”—Robert Herrick

day 4_festive foliage
Festive Foliage

5. “A warble for joy of lilac-time, returning in reminiscence” –Walt Whitman

day 5_lingering lilac
Lingering Lilac

6. “A little Madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King,
But God be with the Clown –
Who ponders this tremendous scene –
This whole Experiment of Green –
As if it were his own!”—Emily Dickinson

day 6_tenacious tree
Tenacious Tree 

7. “it’s

balloonMan whistles
wee” –e e Cummings

Billy Balloon
Billy Balloon

I drank several glasses of strong tea that were labeled ‘proceed with caution’ – I tapped my fingers and clicked my tongue. I fashioned myself an outfit made from dusty doilies and called it a day. My heart began to expand from the inside, with my chest tightening, I knew it would soon explode. I started snapping at children and felt eager to do it again, the numbness I had held for months was going by the wayside. High octane energy was what I needed – yes, yes, yes! It felt good to be angry for no reason and annoyed at the slightest thing – at least now when I would be awake (!) for hours on end I could say I did so purposely and with style (!) …And in the end, when the exploding of my heart would open up my chest cavity – I would be the one solely responsible – lest suffer a half-assed job done by someone else.

“Ya know,” I said to the air, knowing The Specialist was behind me, without having to turn around.

“Ya know, I could very easily burn The Woods down and build a mall while I have all this pent-up energy, just before my heart gives out…”

He nodded.

“I could just as easily let you and build one as I could whistle Dixie. It would just grow back though and eventually ivy would climb all over the architecture, consuming it whole, making a mockery of any and all man-made creation,” he admitted.

I nodded.

“So what now?”

“We could both light the match…” he began.

We made eye contact.

“…Or we could both run away, straight out of The Woods, promising not to look back at each other – ”

“Running out of here in opposite directions?” I prodded.

“Yes, I’ll take the left and you can take the right…”

“…And we’ll go about our lives in order to have some semblance of sanity in our daily routine – ”

“Because life is difficult enough – ”

” …And if we happen to run into each other on the outside, somewhere in the middle, perhaps we could share a chuckle or casually comment on the weather,” I smiled.

“It could be nice…”

“Yeah, I think it really could be.”

We both sighed, shook hands, took turns slapping each other across the face, smiled, and with our fingers crossed behind our backs, proceeded to run for our lives. It was a start.


Suddenly a wild yellow dog with a determined look in its eye, started nipping at our heels and ended up following me home. A swirling vortex of a black hole appeared out of nowhere, sucking calendars and farm animals into it. By way of no other alternative escape, I jumped in narrowly escaping its paws. I was then drawn into the past, ruining an otherwise poignant and dare I say, positive, ending to this story.


The dog managed to take me down and drew blood. I turned into a puppet only functioning with strong emotions.


My brain grew toned arms that jutted out of my ears. My other miscellaneous and vital organs patched themselves up with duct tape and staples. I bit the dog and everyone else real and/or imagined from the past, present and/or future that ever felt they could take advantage of me. I took a deep breath and journeyed towards something people call ‘inner peace.’



I had traveled a great distance without so much as a canteen of water to quench me. I had left The Woods in search of some deep and meaningful solitude. I had left no notes, no smoke signals, said no goodbyes, nor held any shards of glass up towards the sun – I wasn’t sure if I could ever, really, truly return to The Woods. I threw my hands up and embraced clouds that dissipated into nothing. My jaw tensed up and I bit myself forty-seven times. I continued my journey down to a beach where nearby trees grew beautiful and taunted the spring season, as if they were hurrying it along. My feet rummaged through hot sand as I got closer to the water’s edge.

It was an awkward way to say hello but I gave myself a pep talk and made my way over to two women chatting. The waves of the sea cascaded my limbs into an adolescent doggy-paddle and despite their noticeable laughter, I knew I had to be near them. The water was littered with letters in bottles and the current was getting stronger as my body grew weaker. I couldn’t construct a visual picture of their faces, they seemed to be floating further and further away, ever gracefully, submitting themselves to the caress of a nature that could just as easily consume them. Arms stretched out, back down, and with their legs lined up forward, they became the property of the ocean. I feared I would never catch up to them. Feverishly pushing past all the bottles and quickly disintegrating pieces of paper, I kicked my legs while I still had enough momentum. Just as I thought I was making progress, I caught a glimpse of an ornate bottle, covered in precious stones. Distracted by what I thought contained an important letter, I reached for it and drowned.

I opened my eyes to the contrary, surviving. Multiple vanity mirrored faces hovered above my now awoken body. They were people with arms and legs and torsos and genitalia but their faces became contorted reflections of mine. I screamed and backed away as abruptly as I could. I closed my eyes, begging for an eternal slumber where perhaps I could have more control over the situation. Blackness fell before me and the Mirror People all fell down into little bits and pieces, shattering their very existences.


A talkative man who looked a lot like The Magician, dancing with an unidentified woman in a red ballgown, scratched his head and made a copy of himself dancing with a copied unidentified woman in a red ballgown. They danced around in circles to a sort of trinket box kind of music, not particularly filled with glee or malice. The first version kept dancing, even as all my loved ones got stabbed in the face with forks. The second version stumbled in the darkness, stepping on toes and the second woman fell over. I stared from afar with my mouth agape as every single one of my teeth fell out. A man with a smile kept shoving bibs that read ‘Daddy’s Little Multiracial Lustchild’ in front of my face, grunting heavily, as a friend lingered close by. Somewhere in the distance a familiar face was giving birth to another demon baby. An attractive youth with a dry throat blushed every time he walked up to me, even as I continued to regrow teeth only to loose them, creating a faucet-like effect of blood, enamel, dentin, and pulp down my chin. It was all a lot of hullabaloo and I wondered where the actual love was.



I opened my eyes and eased my way up to my feet. The ocean was vast and sparkling. I took a deep breath, feeling muscles where muscles had never been felt before. I turned my back and headed back towards The Woods, I was sure I would die there but not without a fight. Besides, I had a few more lives to spare. I laughed at myself repeatedly.

hysterical laughter