Darned fat thumbs…can’t type properly. The Hell am I supposed to keep up to date with my Twitterstream if I can’t even send a text message? Stoopid phone.
After work, daylight savings have come in. Everyone is a bit flat in the evenings on the train.
Let me tell you: I know a thing or two. These young guys with their computers and their MBAs, what do they know? Nothing. Well, maybe that’s not entirely true but the point is, you can’t match experience. It’s all about people. Who you know and how to deal with them. Soft skills, they call it. What’s soft about that? You can’t get what I’ve got from books you know.
A series of rapid, 30 second sketches of people I drew as the train whizzed past their stations (I was on the train). The speech bubbles are courtesy of Weezer, which I was listening to on the iPod. I still think their first album is the best.
Drawing this guy, I wondered how he was ever going to get off the train. Then it occurred to me: how did he get on in the first place? There’s no way that head could ever fit through those doors. Maybe he read something incredibly mind-expanding after boarding. A true mystery.
I didn’t realise at the time that the lady with the massive sunglasses was reading the newspaper over the shoulder of the man in front. Most of this drawing is one continual line. The hatching on the left is the main exception.