what is coming to my consciousness as i go through old bits and pieces looking for items to post to the old-school series is how much down time i used to have to sit and draw at different points in my life.   i am pretty sure this ballpoint pen sketch was made from the tv reflection at the little apartment on Union St., Brighton. we almost never watched tv because we didn’t have cable and so only received about 2 or 3 channels.   the big blocky shape on the side is the counter top which delineated the small sitting area from the tiny kitchen area.   you can see i am sinking in the couch (really rust orange) and you can even see a bit of the rail of the fire escape out the window.

occasionally we would watch a video though, we did have a VCR, and i remember watching Spalding Gray’s monologue Swimming to Cambodia, which just blew my mind; i then acquired his written works and viewed his other performances.  just last week, as we drove through places like Sag Harbor and by the docks for the Staten Island Ferry, i thought of Spalding.  i recalled Eric Stoltz’s tribute in Life, Interrupted, relating how they would walk together through the city, after a performance.  as we paused on a Bridge over to a spit of land by Hampton Bays, i looked below, saw the churning, icy waters and wondered if Spalding had thought of throwing himself over this bridge, instead of off of the back of the ferry. it was too cold for me to even look at, so i looked back up at the fiery orange sky, silhouetted tall grasses, wondering… why?

then again, maybe i caught the monologue on PBS. it comes in even when you only have 2 channels.  or some other channel-  it turned out after all, after a year or so, that we did have cable.  you just had to flip a switch at the back of the tv.