| I watched Butch as I ate spaghetti and meatballs at the local "bucket of blood,
a little roadhouse apparently living on its reputation as a wild biker bar from the past, and still home to pool hall habitues, road crew workers and great lookin' Woebegon men. So naturally, I had to draw his picture. Now, the picture is no great work of art, it took all of a few minutes while sitting at the bar drinking Jagermeister and beer. What is significant is that it has been years since I have been able to do a spate of days of drawing without thinking about it. The visual creative process has started flowing already, and I attribute it in large measure to having had some respite in nature, (more on that though above and below) some time away from phones and faxes, and a chance to truly unwind ...haven't done that in ages. Here's hoping the sketch bug remains.