I found my way to Shortwave in Alley A. It was quiet there, two employees, a few patrons, plenty dark. I had in mind to sketch people in the coffee house, but I couldn’t stop thinking about this guy that I had passed on the sidewalk on my way downtown.
His mouth, shaped like a fish hook, appeared from 12 feet away to be a greeting smile, but I realized as I got closer: he wasn’t smiling. I’d seen him once before, but only once, so he was familiar and strange to me at once. I thought that my expression was warm. His was extremely neutral. No smile, no nod—just a rugged, good-looking badass pretending that I wasn’t there and it wasn’t cold as he strolled headlong into the wind on a December afternoon.
I couldn’t figure out how to draw his unique mouth without it looking like he was smiling, so I tamed it down. H looks more friendly in my sketch than in my memory. Adding warm colors doesn’t help any.
