Poetry, notes, and drawings by William Michaelian
I quite like this one. It's as though a very startled Kurt Vonnegut has been transformed into Saint Nick in a William Michaelian suit. I especially like the sumptuously curled beard elements. I wish I grew fur that did that.
Hey, William, what`s happen? These eyes are a little bit sad, don`t you think?But i love it, there is sensibility.Well, i wish you a better rest of day...and a good weekend!
Thanks, PG. Whiskers like these are a state of mind. And unless I’m mistaken, this is the second time you’ve mentioned Vonnegut in connection with one of my drawings. Or it might have been someone else. Either way, his is a face I’ve long admired.Crissant, ha! — nothing happened, this is my usual cheerful self! I’m glad you like the drawing. Thanks for your good wishes. My best to you, too.
A good portrait for a Friday. Like the curls.
It must be the humidity. Thanks, Anthony.
That's a nice clear drawing, *Lord* William; yesterday I bought a bottle of Williams-Pear-spirit, I like to paint soon...
all your wonderful drawings and *thought* provoking words keep me here, keep me coming back.it is grand to have you in the public domain where your work has been set free to others.thank you.~robert
Friday afternoon indeed. I was trying to describe you blog to a friend today - this man who draws countless self portraits in all sorts of weird and wonderful poses and then adds the most beautiful poetry and prose. You have unique style, William and perhaps one of the most observed faces in the whole of blogdom.
Thank you, Rudhi. I like your “Lord” William. It sounds like you’re having a nice dream....Robert, thanks for this good message. Finding it first thing in the morning is like a blessing on the day.Well, Elisabeth, it was Friday when I drew it. Now it’s Saturday, but if my calculations are correct, you’re easing into Sunday now in Australia. Or is easing the word? I just read your latest post with interest. In any case, I do live a strange life, and I think my activities here reflect that. Beauty — I feel that it arrives, is renewed, and grows with each visitor, even the silent ones, even those who find nothing here to arouse or feed their spirits.
The things that Fridays do to us...and make us do to them..
Yes, and to think we have to endure this weakly — I mean weekly.... I mean... what do I mean?
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