I’d love to work on the painted version of this, but it’s a double fantasy.
I’ve been getting caught up in beer, drinking it and thinking about it, at times unhealthily so. Looking through the cans in the fridge at breakfast time wondering which one to drink that night. Checking and rechecking the websites of brewers and online stores to see what new brews have been put out. And most recently, plotting to study brewing and make a career change.
There have been plenty of juvenile drawing ideas, running the gamut from hop and malt maidens in wooden vats of beer, right through to a Pieta style alcoholic martyr in the arms of a green hop mother.
It finally coalesced into this, temptation and submission and desperation, paradoxically just when I was on a high waiting to interview for an industry grant to pay for my brewing studies.
Like the New York escape, also something unlikely I was clinging to in place of hope. I haven’t entirely given up on either, but even the painting of this seems unlikely, another pinup pipedream I won’t get the privacy to work on.
I’ve realised I can’t drink my way to happiness, but I’m not sure I can draw my way there either.