Angst, Rebellion, and a Leather Jacket

      Last night I watched James Dean's, Rebel Without a Cause. With a embered cigarette perched in the youthfully crease of his smile, Dean's character faced the world head on. Watching himself gain speed from behind his two-wheeled chariot, he cannot brake or alter course--he's on a collision course with fate.

      With the "Bad Angel" persona fresh in my mind, I decided to draw the drama that had unfolded in front of my eyes. In my drawing, my conception of the ultimate rebel is portrayed as a young soul, just looking forward--down the road life has set before him. The journey he faces is a journey all of us one day will take, and in this we can find ccongruency.