This is Bunkie when he was little, a quick whimsical sweet sketch of him. Duncan Bunkin Punkin Pie, that’s how nick names, pet names are born from kisses and lullabies.
I was thinking about this sketch today. It’s on a piece of copy paper as most of my sketches are, stacked here and there, organized into files, clamped onto clipboards, piled into drawers, shoved into sketchbooks and once in a while drawn in sketchbooks. It could have been anywhere, really. I reached for a clipboard on my bookshelf and there it was. What are the odds?
I don’t remember when I sketched this but I remember vividly when it happened, long ago in the California world in my search for things connected, things unseen. I was taking a Qabalah class and lying on the floor of the studio in a meditation. When I opened my eyes Duncan was lying next to me like the sketch with rainbows coming out of his feet. Rainbows.
Later when digital cameras got better and faster the orbs of light around Gracie were always pink and Bunkie’s were always rainbows.