This time it's about Colonial Avenue, which runs right past my abode. On the day I drew most of these, I walked from my house, below 21st Street, up to the end of Colonial, across Mayflower Crescent down to 40th Street near Colley, and then over to Newport, where I caught up with the #11 bus. For you out-of-towners, that's roughly the equivalent of walking from Buffalo to Cleveland. But see, that's what being a true artist is all about. Walking. Lots and lots of walking. Anybody can cut a cow in half or pee on a cross. But walking all the way down Colonial is the sign of a true artist. That, and living in a garret. I sort of live in a garret, even if it isn't up in the air. How high does a garret have to be, anyway? Also, being larger than life helps. I'm not larger than life. I'm still working on being as large as life. I know a few artists who like to think of themselves as larger than life, and, believe me, it's overrated.