Two days of work at the cafe are behind me. I like the job. I enjoy running the grill.

Of course, I wouldn't want to make a career out of it, as some have opined that I should, but it will do rather nicely just now. I don't think I'll mind so much if and when they want to move me up to full time.

As for my portraits...

I have a few left to do. I have completely lost interest in them. The last three I drew I've yet to be paid for, so how could I have kept what little interest remained? It seems a total waste of time and energy. One on side of the coin, the energy and time I spend on each drawing is worth much more, to me, than the few pennies I receive in recompense, and then atop that fact is the nawing notion that, on several occasions, I have disappointed the “client.”

On the other side of the coin ... is the portraits themselves. Of what use, really, is a portrait drawn in colored pencil? I've discovered that the pigment from the pencil leads are far from colorfast, else I would have had no problem with the drawing of Ollie Harris. So ... if they're going to fade anyway, and these few, bleak, listless faces are to be lost ... wWhat is the use?

There is no artistic merit that I can find in any of these portraits. Only a few have I found evenly minimally interesting, and those fell far short of what is, perhaps, the goals I might like to pursue. I have ideas. That carry my mind far from this. So the enactment of some “progressive” ritual, which garners more work than profit, involving techniques and substances which certainly do not fire the imagination, becomes more redundant
with each passage.

So I drift. And I do not like it. And it seems that the time to move on is upon me.