One of my favorite things about living in New York City: I am never without inspiration for my drawings.
There are the women at power lunches on Madison Avenue, not a hair out of place, their linen suits crisp, perfect. The beautiful woman on her way to a Saturday night date, having put great effort into looking effortless. The fashionistas navigating the Meatpacking District's cobblestone streets in their five-inch Laboutins. The trio brunching in a Williamsburg cafe, handmade leather bags and cozy knits hanging from the backs of their walnut chairs. The wild-haired dancer running out from a last rehearsal, loose fabrics hanging beautifully on her long limbs. The bespectacled NYU student hiding out in a corner at Strand, tattered vintage denim jacket lying next to her stack of books. The blushing bride tossing her bouquet outside City Hall. Everywhere I look, there is something, someone.