Swish

Left to themselves, the women I draw always have an intensely sad chasteness.  They never look as if you could take them to a bar and get drunk with them, or have sex with them, or as if you’d really want to.

A long, long time ago, my friend Hawk was looking at a storyboard I’d done (it was a variant of the Daphne myth, for a private project I was thinking about), and said, “Dude, I’m so jealous.  Everything you draw goes swish.  Everything I draw goes THUD.”

I’m not sure if the two are related.