Urban Old Man, and Montreal Fringe

It's the Urban Old Man! Yay! Woohoo! Go, Urban Old Man! Below him is St. Denis girl on street, and guy who kind of looks like a policeman, but walked away. Real police don't have that crossed belt: all their stuff is now hanging on their waist. The line beside him was caused when wind blew the page into my brush while painting. This was done yesterday outside a Second Cup on rue St. Denis.




Above, today I was drawing people relaxing in the "beer area" of the Montreal Fringe Festival. I'm off beer for the moment, as I've written, which is especially hard this weekend, because it's Grand Prix Week in Montreal, and booths of attractive women are lining the more touristed parts of the streets handing out free samples. Still, I'm adamant, at least for now.

So, I was sitting having a "Guru" of all things. I've been drinking these and "Red Bulls," along with my lemonade and soda water. I wonder if their health and energy properties are anything more than hype? The two little girls who are nearly in the centre of the picture came over to see what I was painting. I let them have a turn at the brush. The older one, on the right in the picture, was seven or so. She filled in the patch just below her pony tail, and we collaborated on the profile above. The younger one wanted a turn, and did the red circles, and less concentrated strokes.

Their Dad seemed okay with their painting with me, so I guess I don't look like a psycho (I've had experience working with schoolkids doing murals, and giving workshops in comic strip drawing). I was interested to see what this pair would come up with. More a case of my learning from them, rather than them from me.

We also did another page, which the father bought from me for five dollars. That was a little embarassing, but I left the band that was playing in the square (a couple of members represented below) a tip in their hat. No, not the whole five dollars. I'm not crazy.

Not my best sketching, but I didn't care. I was just moving the brush to the rhythm of the music. The little girls were great, but the younger one cried when her dad had to go. It's always tough to disengage in these situations, but I'm sure she was happy again in five minutes or so.