Monday, November 6, 2017

At Swim-Two-Snarks

Words, words, words! There's not going to be any of 'em in this drawing and besides, the Beaver seldom knows what to say anyway. They make such a buzzing in her head … so she's popped off, outside on deck, away from that galoot of a Butcher and his loquacious cronies in the main salon. She's having a breath of fresh sea air, watching the Boots and the Bellman gammon the ship's bowsprit, thinking of absolutely nothing in particular.

She is, as they say, a tabula rasa. Just the thing for an artist who's short on paper. A few quick strokes of the pen et voilà! In place of a quotidian Castor Canadensis, we now have a charming ingenue recently out of finishing school. She has imbibed all the social graces necessary for the sporting companion of any High Church Anglicans bent on Snarkicide. No more riparian galactophagogery for this lady, she's wearing the galligaskins now and she's loaded for Boojum!

In short — nurture triumphs over nature — again! Huzzah for the tabulae rasae of this world! Besides, no one likes a palimpset anyway, those snooty, nefandous know-it-alls.

2 comments:

  1. I googled "Moebius ink" or some such and came across an older blog of yours addressing just that. Excellent observations and very well written. I then jumped down into the rabbit-hole of links and discovered your wonderful illustrations. Great stuff!

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  2. Thanks, Steve, glad you're enjoying the blog … if you click on the link to the right, "The Good Eye, etc", I've collected all my critiques of Moebius plus some process essays. Darn that Moebius and his penwork, you can never escape it!

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