A couple of semesters ago, I had the honor and pleasure of having the legendary Barron Storey as my teacher for conceptual illustration. This guy is, for lack of a better word, a genius, and an amazing human being, so genuine and so compassionate. One time, he did a live demo in his sketch book, that was actually more of a performance. As he sunk his hands into a puddle of obsidian-shaded india ink, he began expressing his current thoughts, pains, pleasures, opinions, and visions of his existence in relation to the world. It was general and specific and deep and on the surface at the same time. He continued his heartfelt rant as he illustrated in his sketchbook with nothing but his leaky black hands. We could do nothing but listen to him pour his heart out. With his words strong, and the aura tense, I felt compelled to draw him as he was at that very moment and take whatever notes I could attempt to scribble at the pace of his passionate speech.