The man hunt is over. I, upon a whisper from the wind, heard the name in my mind and sought it out. Rosebud. wait, different story. never saw it. Phil. yeah that’s more of my vein. A distant buddy who’s sculptural talents need only an objective to be unleashed. Mercenary for hire if you will, and you should. Is that redundant? regardless of grammar i sent the message out to the one man I know who can take a pile of shit and make it pretty. Luckily persuasion of concept was not particularly difficult, we have worked on such things before. When we were younger and more naive we took on a behemoth of a project, and after much reworking and waste of supplies and time we came out with something awesome, to put it scientifically, but our young minds couldn’t hold focus long enough to see it through. One day we will bring it back to life, as it never did really die, but the world wasn’t ready for us or vice versa.
Enough blathering of the past, as ironic as that may be, but it is the past! Now we speak of the past future! Phil had little requests of me to begin and complete such a project, making me feel nearly guilty in my contribution for the work I saw ahead that I had discovered too great for me with my current skill set. Turnaround he said. That’s all he said. You handle the rest he said. Uh okay I said.
luckily he finds my chicken scratch interesting. If I were to employed by any serious “art” establishment I would certainly have my hands washed out with soap. Not sure if it would have the same effect as with vulgarities, but my sketches should be categorized as the same. Maybe a better suited punishment would be washed with crunchy organic peanut butter.
Pilot Precision V5 on sketch paper. drawn to scale.
thank you Phil. making dreams come true, though I still don’t know what happens in the dream.