Bus Sketchbook

From August 2025 to March 2026

A bus line near my apartment connects directly to the university where I teach illustration. I don’t drive. I am technically licensed, but after eight years of developing a dependence on the New York City subway system, I have lost any nascent ability to independently operate a car. My parents have expressed their disappointment in me; my partner thinks it’s best for the longevity of society that I am kept off the road. On my last solo drive—to and from summer school during college—I totaled my car. I captured the wreck on a disposable camera. I can spin a yarn: Preferring public transit is praxis! Down with car-centrism! The truth is that I tend towards impulsivity and erraticism and unawareness of the material world around me until I quite literally crash into it; still, I refuse to let these so-called character flaws impede my contributions to society. So I commute to work.

The upside to not driving is that I can draw while commuting. I never found it pleasant to sketch on the subway—too many unpredictable variables, too much pressure to posture—but I love drawing while physically moving. A buzz or hum feels synchronizing and alive. (Perhaps this is why some people listen to brown noise.) For the past academic year, I’ve kept a little square sketchbook and some markers in my work bag. The set has dwindled from 18 to 4 and will need to be replenished. I think often of the house of lost things in Halloweentown II—surely my favorite markers live there and aren’t scattered across various classrooms and buses and tote bags. (This makes me wonder: has anyone yet connected this specific eidetic liminal space to the non-eidetic liminal space of the Backrooms movie?)

What I am thinking about now (besides Backrooms) is which sketches to render as “proper work.” I recently wrapped a short film that took four years to complete (not a brag—a lament), and I am feeling unmoored. A bit empty. Is there a seed of something here that can be translated into a larger work? An illustration? A gif? A painting? Another short film? I am taking suggestions!

This sketchbook, chronologically presented, contains observational drawings of the people around me—students, bus drivers, working adults—and imaginative doodles that are much more about the action of moving my hand across the page (or striking the page) and much less about the image itself. In fact, this method of sketching—alive and transitory—does not concern itself with the result. The process is frenetic, and the drawings emerge unconsciously, or without consciousness, as in a semi-blind contour but with the added constraint of a bumpy road.

As a treat and a public service, I’ve included the aforementioned photo of my totaled car at the end of this post ♡

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august to december

on the left, thinking about the sensation of movement across a scrolling landscape

on the right, rediscovering one of my favorite marker techniques: layering complementary colors

on the left, listening to a podcast about the balloon boy hoax

on the left, an impression of highway traffic in the rain

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january to april

discovering how much i liked the yellow marker as an accent

here, thinking about David Hockney’s portraits ♡

overwrought but potentially interesting

discovering how much i love drawing puffer coats

in my own Uniqlo puffer coat

self-portrait of my reflection in the window

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As promised, here is a photo of my mom contemplating the car I totaled:

the story is that a bird pooped on my window and i panicked and crashed into the car in front of me; the woman i crashed into accused me of texting; i was not texting i was reacting to a bird pooping on my window

Until next time,