1. Free paper.  The Map (as it is titled by the MTA ) is available free at any Station Master's booth in quantities of one per visit.  When I first had the idea months ago my wife and kids made a habit of collecting one every subway ride.

2. Since my Litho Crayons are fairly smudgeless the maps can be folded upon completion and easily carried in luggage unlike 16" x 20" mats or rolled up portraits (which very rarely escape crinkling and always suffer heavy curling.)

3. The Maps with their muted colors provide a natural background that gives a sense of artistic maturity to the pieces with no extra work on my part.  This is a gimmick I've been taking advantage of in some of my work; if you've seen my Elena series- the girl dancing on highway maps- you know to what I refer.

4.  I can't think of a more authentic souvenir of the New York experience.

So in the afternoon I got to work drawing myself for a sample piece.  It turns out, maps are the exact width of a masonite clip board I found dumpster diving at Pratt.  When clipped in one folds worth overlaps the bottom and is easily wrapped round and held with binder clips.  I spent a frustrating half an hour capturing my face using the only chair height mirror in my apartment.  Frustrating because no matter how I swung the door the mirror hangs on, my head was still back lit by a large window casting all but one edge of my face in shadow.  When I stepped back it looked overly dark and dishearteningly insubstantial.  It wasn't going to work.  Then I remembered my white China Markers.  (China markers are almost identical to Litho crayons, made with a slightly stiffer wax.)  I sat back down and hit all the highlights with white then filled in the whites of my eyes.  This was much better.  I added a final touch of orange China Marker in my irises, which, mixing with the black, turned my eyes brown, and I was satisfied.  Not the best self portrait, but adequate for a sample.

I gathered my stuff and headed to Pace Gallery to paint from 5- 11:00.  I made it to Times Square around midnight.  I took my time setting up.  Same location.  I removed the self portrait from the clipboard and taped it to my portfolio case and set it on my easel.  Then I wrote in graphic block letters above my head "On The Map."  As I wrote the comments were pouring in.  "What's he doing?"  "Oh look! He draw on maps!" "That's different" "How much is it?"

"40 dollars."  I turned around to see a Chinese man with a big expression of surprise.

"40 Dollar! The other guys only 5!"  He held up five fingers.

I smiled big.  "I can do you one for 5 dollars, but it's not going to look like this!"  I was still smiling.  He waved his hands in disgust and walked away.  It was then I realized I recognized him.  He was one of the other guys.

I finished up the lettering, switched seats and went about clipping a fresh map to the clip board.  The comments changed to people reading "On.  The.  Map." then, "Look at that mustache." then "Oh!  That's him!" and a lot of grins.  Three more Chinese artists ambled past in the next 5 minutes.  Two made no eye contact.  All three read out loud: "On.  The.  Map."  One smiled and bobbed his head. "Thas You?"  I nodded.  I guess word travels fast.

About this time this dude with a ponytail shows up and starts talking in broken English.  He's from Turkey. He likes my self portrait.  He is an ex-libris artist.  (This is someone who creates stamp portraits of people who want to personalize every book in their library.)  He says 'hi, how are you' to Chinese people.  He says hello to Indian people.  He says good evening to French people.  He tells me he is working on a brand new mathematical approach to art.  I'm not sure what he said to the Italian people.  He knows the meanings of biblical names.  He can speak in 13 languages, 6 fluently.  He has a wife and a one year old.  He named his son Wisdom Heart (in Turkish.)  His name is John Hunter (in English.)  He fell in love with one look at his wife.  He talked a lot.  But I didn't mind. He was fascinating.  Eventually a Korean guy from Seattle broke in.  "How much are the drawings?"

"40 dollars."

"Oh." he started to turn away.

"I'll do you for 30."  This was acceptable.  His name was Paul.  I did a good job while John pried Korean phrases out of him and wrote them down in a small book.  I told Paul he was my first Map customer. 

Halfway through he smiled and said, "It looks like your competition is checking you out."  He was right, two Chinese guys stood, slightly embarrassed at being caught, staring over my shoulder.  I finished and wrote ' The First One' at the bottom.  He was very pleased and gave me $35.

I took me about half an hour to do Paul, but the streets were already quiet.  John bought me a water (It was 90+ degrees) and we chatted amicably for an hour before heading home.  I was happy.  I had broken the ice on map portraits and gotten a very favorable response.

After setting up, this kid with a wannabe hipster goatee stopped by to overpatronize me with smarm.  "Oh, man.  Wow!  These are SO good.  Can I have your card, man?"  I think he was so annoying because he reminded me of myself when I was 17.

"Sure." I say flatly and hand him one.

"I'm gathering together the world's LARgest artist collective!"

"Uh huh."

"Yeah.  It's gonna be GREAT!"

"..." Blank stare.

"This stuff is really cool.  You know, making and creating things is, like, what holds people like us together."

This is the point, I suppose, where I should have said- 'Sit down, I'll draw you.' and then wrangled a price he could afford, even offering a free one to pull in business, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"Well, it was good to meet you." he said and held out his fist in the 'Brooklyn Respect' shake (two fists pressed together on the flats of the knuckles.)  I acquiessed and gave him my fist, and he moved on.  A minute later I looked over and he was being drawn by the Chinese woman next to me.  She handled his exuberance by talking loudly in Chinese on her cell phone for the entire 25 minutes she was drawing and still managed a fair likeness.  He gave her what looked like 30 dollars and left.  She packed up as well.

I had a lot of casual interest but no bites until 1:30 when a policeman, A really nice, soft spoken guy from the Bronx, started asking me questions about my trade, and we talked enjoyable for nearly half an hour.  During this time despite the thinning crowd, numerous people stopped to ask the officer directions, and many others. because I was engaged in conversation, were able to stare at my art without feeling threatened by a sales pitch.  Eventually someone tentatively interrupted, "Um excuse me, How much are these?"

"20 dollars."  I could already tell they were going to get one. 

"Could you do us both on one?"  She asked, hopefully looking at her boyfriend.

"Sure, but it's $20 a person."  Their faces fell.  "I'll give it to you for $30."  They exchanged glances nodding.  "Sit right down.  Where you guys from?"

"Vancouver."  She had sat in the chair and he positioned himself standing perfectly still beside her, one hand on her shoulder.  After about 3 minutes of drawing her, I realized he thought I was drawing both of them at once.

"Hey, you can come around and watch, I can only draw one at a time."  He was much relieved.

Her face had me worried.  It was the first of the night, of the season for that matter, and it often takes one to warm up.  Plus, she was part Indian and she had one of those jawlines that changes with the slightest turn of the head.  It's really hard to avoid making it lumpy or fat, but somehow I managed.  As soon as I put the jawline in, I heard the oohs and ahhs of the onlookers and I knew I wouldn't need to finish in great detail. 

His face was easy- big dark eyebrows, thick lidded deep set eyes, large nostrils, lips with defined edges, and a moustache and beard (which makes any jawline trouble reworkable) and even though he gave me a 3/4 pose I had quite a crowd singing my praises halfway through.  "Oh my! He is GOOD!" and "Why, that looks just like him." and "You really got 'im, Chief!"

I stopped drawing much earlier than I wanted to, hoping to get another customer and not wanting his side of the page looking far better than hers.  They were more than pleased and tipped me 5 dollars, but when I turned around the streets were suddenly empty.  My crowd had vanished.  Everyone but my officer freind and his partner who both stood there smiling.  I started packing up.  "That's it?"  my friend asked.

"Yeah. It looks pretty dead."  They watched me load up, we said good night, and I headed home.

I set up a quarter block from the largest cluster of artists, sat down and lit my pipe.  It wasn't two minutes before a chinese guy I remembered being one of the best came and set up 10 feet from me.  He nodded guardedly, producing a cigarette.  I gave a nod back that said, "I got no issues, I remember the code." with a flickered smile of "It's good to see you again."  These guys are not expressive characters and I try not to jangle with their composure.  I stared off down the block.

"You got light?"  He was approaching me.

"Yeah."  I stood up fumbling in my pocket.  This was a good sign.  I didn't expect him to be anything but indifferent to me, but here he was, honoring me with a chance to be the provider.  I handed him a lime green bic.  "Long time, no see!" I said cheerfully.  He half nodded and then set to lighting his cigarette.  "Must be about 5 years." I added.  This was too much.  He put one hand up and if to ward off anything else I might say and gave back the lighter with the other.  Then backed up nodding and went and sat down.  On reflection I should have held my peace until he'd gotten a good puff and then waited some more to see if he'd initiate some conversation.  Call me Mr. Eager.

We sat awkwardly for 10 minutes.  Till a lot of noise came from a small crowd across the street and this guy packed up and zipped over.  Emboldened by our interchange I carried my set up to the middle of the nearest cluster and took my place as 'one of the gang'.