irreplaceable

To the left, to the left
Everything I own in a box to the left.

So I’m misquoting Beyoncé here, but there’s a reason I’ve been listening to “Irreplaceable” on repeat for the past three days. It doesn’t exactly fit my situation: B’s kicking her no-good man out on the street, I’m just moving to a new city, but something about the mood matches my mind set these days.

We made it to ATL late Wednesday night after finding out that our flight had been canceled due to an ice storm bearing down on the city. The moving van should get here on an undisclosed date next week. There’s something subtly Zen about sending your every last belonging out in the universe and just hoping for the best that it’ll come back, not knowing when or how. All those material things are, ultimately, replaceable, even if not having them around can be a pain. It's forced me to stop and consider what it is that I do actually need, versus what I want.

The hard part about all of this is that I have a couple of illustrations due for various clients, and here I am with limited art supplies and no flatbed scanner. It’s going to be a weekend of creative improvisation. Stay tuned to see how that turns out.

Speaking of drawings, here’s a new one. I was going for a loosely Lichtenstein feel for the lady’s face. Not sure where the fiery drink came from. It frankly startled me when it burst into flames on the page.

The Blot: A blond woman went to a Mexican restaurant and ordered a pitcher of margaritas ...