Another beautiful day. I thought it would help with this disoriented feeling I have since the election, so I went down to sketch the goats in the pasture below my house. Within five minutes they’d all migrated to the other end of the field where I couldn’t follow them. Still disoriented, so I put it into this piece of paper, which couldn’t walk out on me.


Who in this world are we? Can I even stand to say WE any more? I’m trying to understand, sitting here in my bubble.

On Tuesday I had prevented finger biting during the early election returns by sketching the candidates from a news headline.


Not a mystery here about who we Californians thought (hoped) would win. (Actually the majority of American voters.)

And then there were the reportage sketchers who were out there manning the polls like Suhita Shirodhar, or with the crowds of voters in NYC like Melanie Reim and Veronica Lawlor. We were all in the same bubble, hoping to be celebrating, then stunned and disbelieving and now trying to make sense of it all so we can move on.


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