Slightly Less Late Sunday Comic #86

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Late Sunday Comic #85

Late Sunday Comic #84

Hand Poem

Rescued from the margins of a notebook. My professor said, " Observe the book closed-" in class, and that struck me as poetic. This poem resulted:

Observe the hand closed:
pointer like an eye shut,
fingers like puppies in a bed,
thumb like a hand over the eyes,
nails like faces trying to hide,
knuckles an arched back,
pinky, the cold one, nuzzling in,
never gets a better spot.

Sunday Comic

I was just eating my 4:50 am Finals Macaroni and Cheese and thinking: "I'm making all this art, but no time for the Rhino? PSH! I should just make some little real fast slapped together comic thing tomorrow." But right then I realized that I was in a uniquely weird psychological territory that needed to get harnessed, and quick, before I got well rested and lost a special insight. That insight was the ability to not filter unformed ideas from exiting the brainspace. It did not emanate from toes - more like the central facial region. Right behind the eyes or cheeks. I'm hyping this too much. Here y'ar: