The poet Ariel Gordon only emails me when she wants something, and the last thing she wanted was a prompt to help her write (“you hafta send me something to write to,” she wrote/demanded, so eloquently). Fine – I was in the studio a metric tonne all weekend anyway, doing (and re-doing) the illustrations for a novella, listening to Laura Branigan sing Gloria over and over again, until I got what I needed.
The drawing above is completely different from the forty-five others that I did that day; at the time, it was meant as a break. And all I could think was: she looks so lucky, lucky, lucky. So this is the first in a series of luckies.