Kind of fits in here I guess, at least the right page :)
I was listening to a band called "London Grammar" when doing the lettering/typography on the right page.
As always ink straight on the sketchbook paper.
My husband has a chronic illness and frequently spends weeks in the hospital. I have been doodling each day while sitting with him and many of them reflect my thoughts at the time. Often appearing are desperation, hope, frustration, sarcasm, fear.
When I was a teen, my grandfather had alzheimers, a failing heart, and half of one lung. He was covered with scars and sometimes muttered at walls.
I was asked to keep an eye on him, briefly, one afternoon, while my grandmother did something else. While I was alone with him, he looked at an empty space right next to me, and whispered: "Mom? Dad? Is that you?"
With the exception of getting hit by a car, that was the most terrifying moment of my life.
