Doc Martin's

Based on my last entry, I thought that I would have followed it with one on Angela Chase, my favourite character ever. Remember that show "My So Called Life"? I love it... I was confused about why I never watched it back when it aired in the mid-nineties... probably because it only lasted for one season. Now I remember why I love Claire Danes so much - it was because of Angela Chase. And no, neither of them are over-rated.
But I digress.
I've been stuck at home for days now. I've been trying to work, but haven't really made any strides today - I have the flu. Or at least I feel like I do. So again, I'm working on my kitchen table. It's horrible that I'm bent over the the way that I am -- it reminds me of when I was in art school; I pretty much created make-shift tables out of large wooden panels, or I worked on whatever flat surface was available at the time. I'm inking a pencil drawing that I did earlier. I think this might be the first time that I've inked (almost) an entire piece. It's actually cathartic, despite the fact that I feel heavy-headed. I'm unsure why I just don't dive in and do more pictures fully rendered in ink. Maybe it's because there are so many contemporary greats out there who effortlessly employ the medium as though it's an extension of their hands like Yuko Shimizu, Nathan Fox, Tomer Hanuka, and Paul Pope. So when I look at their drawings I feel as though I could never be as skilled. This sounds like I'm fishing for support, but I'm not -- I'm just thinking out loud.