It  seems like every time I am about to book plane tickets there’s another tragedy that occurs in the “friendly” skies. This week I am gearing up to buy tickets to Indianapolis, so of course an entire airplane vanishes out of the sky! An Air France air bus was lost at sea when it flew through a storm. I realize the probability of crashing in a plane is very low. I have read all the statistics and data tables that swear it’s the safest form of travel with the least amount of yearly casualties. You can throw numbers and safety records at me till the cows come home. It will never change the fact that when I am trapped in that damn winged sardine can and shot up thousands of miles above the Earths surface, that I am gonna be in a constant state of anxiety. As much as they say automobiles are a trillion times more deadly, I would rather strap in behind one and drive three days to the Hoosier state, rather then spend four hours of nail-biting hell in the cloud-smiling sky. I just feel more in control. I’ll take a balanced feeling of blissful ignorance over a rational short period of pure terror any day!

I sketched this little doodle while high in the sky. I was angry at the fact that we humans must get from point A to point B in such a timely fashion. I figured if A killed B then I’d never have to get inside this metal bird and go there. So as a form of therapy, I did just that. Drew A killing B. Fuck you B. 

Much Love

Travis

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