I don’t mean to bash anyone else’s art, but this statue of Lucille Ball in Celoron, New York is a good example of why I don’t like to draw portraits on commission. There’s always the possibility of absolute failure and humiliation. I’m not a “for hire” artist. People ask me to draw their children and their spouses. Some of them are nice enough to offer money, but many of them just expect me to do it for free. They assume it’s an easy, simple, sure-fire thing. But it’s not. Not for me, anyway. Sometimes I draw a portrait that looks like the real person. But sometimes it ends up … well, like this Lucy statue. And it’s always embarrassing when that happens. As much as this statue makes me cringe, I also feel sympathy for the sculptor. I know what that embarrassment feels like.
I’ve been writing a new book lately. That’s why I haven’t blogged much. This one isn’t a novel. It’s a long, rambling essay — sort of like this blog. Hope you’re all doing well, my friends.