Coyotes, Goats, Rhapsody of a Bohemian Nature: Three Last-Minute Sketchy-Cartoons of Freddie Mercur

It was about 3:00 a.m.-ish

("a.m." as in "after midnight", not "a.m.-ish" as in "Amish"),

as I left the studio--

(I don't spend all day and night in here--if I did, I might be really good by now--no, I just usually start very late)

a glorified storage building--

(I don't actually glorify it, but it's perfect for me and I love it)

and as I'm feeling my way in the dark to the house

(which is a trailer, but it's perfect for us and we love it),

I relax when I reach the steps

(sometimes I use my brain and the flashlight, but I mostly use my naked nighttime eyes to find my way to the house and in the dark and my stupidity, I often lose my balance on the stepping stones. Though I have never fallen, I have teetered).

Along the path to the house, I'm always a little scared of meeting Boo Radley or that I might interrupt a skunk during business hours

(if you are familiar with either one, you know that a skunk encounter would be much worse in the long run).

That night, I reached the steps as usual, retracted my fear antennae and relaxed my ankles. I enjoyed a few seconds with the sky

(mostly dark, black or blue or purple or whatever color that is)

which that night wore a few sheer scarves of light purpley gray

(or whatever that color is)

and the night breeze fell across my skin like a few of Salome's seven veils. I was putty and stood still for a few seconds, inhaling the lonely exoticness of it.

Then I heard it... the quiet night echoes of the FM station in the barn next door

(the neighbors turn the radio on at night to scare coyotes away from their goats).

At first, I thought it might be the intoxicant flute riffs of Pan or a rare species of bird that only sings oldies

(this is what happens when you stay up late),

but it was Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen,

(a band from England),

featuring Freddie Mercury,

(a singer from outer space).

And at 3:00 a.m., within the otherwise silent night, under a sky of scarves, atop a concrete step, it was a rhapsody.

That's why I thought I'd attempt a drawing of him, whose voice was the golden fleece: mythic and virtually unattainable, yet people would kill to possess it.

Freddie was hard for me to try and capture and I didn't do it very well, I'm afraid--he deserves a lot more time.

So, to distract you from my mediocre drawings, I'm including two versions of Queen performing Bohemian Rhapsody, in case you aren't familiar with it or them or are and would like to see it/them anyway.

Freddie seemed like the kind of guy who would love to know that his voice kept some goats alive.