My friend Meg Currell writes these amazing theater critiques and heartbreaking essays. But, she ate a green dragon apple — scratch that — 5 apples.
And now I’m mourning her loss. She has been eaten, utterly consumed, by a dragon I’m calling: Burp.
I had dreams of drawing a bucktooth dragon, but this is the face I was sketching.
It is confusing, and rather frightening, but not in any way I intended.
So, Burp was granted smooth lines and graceful curves. She looks so content, with her hands on her belly.
After two slices of pizza and some parmesan bites, that’s how I feel too.
RIP, Meg Currell. Or should I say RIS (Rest in Stomach)?
What’s next? At some point, I need a lesson on perspective. And how to draw fiery burps.