I was in San Francisco yesterday, picking up several of my paintings from a downtown art venue. I had to pull into the loading dock and then wait for the curator of the show to come down with my work. As I waited I watched the financial district lunch crowd filling the streets, everyone on their way to get something to eat. The man in this drawing stepped part of the way out of the door of the building across the street from where I was sitting. The hand that you don’t see in this drawing is holding open a large glass door. The man looked up and down at the crowd as if evaluating whether or not it was worth his while to join their ranks for the noontime rush. Apparently it was not. He slipped back inside and did not re-emerge, or at least not for another 15 minutes, after which time the curator emerged with my art piled onto a hand truck. I packed up my work and drove back to the East Bay.

8-Rock