I grew up in a small town in Michigan in the 1940s. My brother, Dave, and I spent most every Saturday afternoon watching B-Movies at the Lyric Theater in town. The B-Westerns, in particular, were my favorite and to this day, a part of me imagines that I'm a handsome, brave, gunslinging cowpoke. That explains the appearance of cowboys now and then in my Death at the Circus series. I've always had pussycats in my life, too, so cats and cat-like creatures show up at the circus, often wearing colorful saddles with riders astride them.
The holiday season brought us some unwelcome events. They have altered my commitment to create a drawing most every day but, happily, things seem to be settling down. I've continued making pictures, although not as many as I made before the mischievous clowns jumped into our life. The slowing of the flow is, perhaps, a blessed relief for those who follow my Death at the Circus series of drawings. In any case, here's one of my recent drawing. More to come, the Gods of Graphite willing.