Brooklyn, New York--Smalltown, USA

I got to the Peter McManus Cafe and found it to be so crowded that I turned around and left. I must really be getting old--I mean, what was I expecting on a day like today? It wasn't a total loss, though. I ran into my old friend Elena, fully clothed, on the R train headed home.



What are the chances, really? She looked great. Currently playing flute in a psychedelic rock band. I told her to let me know when her next Brooklyn gig was. Lord have mercy.

Anyway, here's where we stood before I left:







Items in play include:

--the relative left/right positioning of the forehead
--the relative left/right positioning of the bridge of the nose
--the relative left/right positioning of the eye
--the relative left/right positioning of the upper lip/flume
--and that goober of white that makes his chin look like my grandmother's. Which makes me smile.

He looks a bit like a generic Latin American dictator. But hey, who doesn't? The image onthe canvas seems leaner, in a good way, than it looks on screen. I wonder what the truth of the matter is.

As we speak, I continue to move his eye further to the left. I'm leaving for dinner now, but I expect to finish, title and sign the thing tonight. Images to come.