My office is smack in the middle of the Chelsea art district and I often pop in for an art break at lunch or on the way home from work. There is such an endless variety of interesting things to see; more and more work is figurative these days, which I find is pretty helpful in sparking thoughts for the sort of drawing I'm doing. I am always interested in what gets into galleries, what's condsidered 'legitimate', though I remind myself that this is not necessarily synonymous with the' the best'. Nonetheless, much of it seems to have earned its place there and I am less mystified by what this world and this industry is really about, the more often I visit. I think my earlier resentment and incomprehension of the Art establishment has been replaced with a sense of wonder at all the ways creativity manifests and is recognized.
Drawn while sitting on my little stool, tucked in a corner, on a day when the galleries were busy with tourists and weekenders. This giant portrait ogled me from across the road. I returned the compliment.

This was drawn on the way to work, early, the sun still at an acute angle from the East. I added the colors later, trying to recapture that feeling of high contrast and harsh morning light. I continue to be intrigued by the power of compliementary colors. ("Nice orange. " Why, thank you.")