More culling from old sketchbooks; this one from mid ’94.
I like the ink line on the body, but not the face. Or, to be more precise, the treatment of the face doesn’t match the body. The body’s line-work is much simpler and spontaneous than the face; it would be better if the two parts matched. Also, the head is too small; it makes figure look super-heroic.
I like the way I smushed the end of the nearly-dry brush into the paper to get the effect of nappy negro body hair.
I believe I completed this drawing on or about New Year’s Day, 1981. This is how I celebrated the new year. I envisioned a happy magic land where masculine men could be unselfconscious and unashamed in their queerness. I had no idea how it would come about. Maybe it still will, someday.
Again, jesus, look at all the work I put into the background of the drawing. I simply don’t have the patience for it anymore. Although being flat on your back for 2 months helps.
So, anyway, my life experience is that there are very few guys who look like this. Most guys, especially as they age, start to sag in predictable ways. It is both a blessing and a curse. I like to fuck guys who look like Ed Asner, Rod Steiger, Ernest Borgnine, etc, etc; but I don’t want to look like that myself. Tough shit, I guess. I’d have to work it alot harder that I am willing to to stay buff (or become buff for the first time in my life). It’s just not a priority, for better or worse. Maybe someday, before it’s too late…
Jeez, I sure put a lot of work into drawing that damn wall. Amazing. I couldn’t or (wouldn’t) do that these days.