I'm a fairly dedicated Bruce Lee fan. I watched his movies as a kid and, despite being the wrong gender, wanted to be Bruce Lee. I even went as far as taking karate lessons when I was twelve years old. The desire to throw punches and land kicks ended when I had to actually spar with someone on the mats, but I certainly had the moves down!
The image in my head, cultivated by childhood fantasies, never matches anything that I've seen in my present day. I suppose it is difficult to capture his smoldering stance or fiery stare--especially since Bruce seemed to be in perpetual motion. Yes, there were his lightning quick kicks and punches, but he also moved slowly, constantly, never allowing his challengers to feel at ease or at rest. And when I look at this picture, I don't see this paltry likeness. I see with my mind's eye the Bruce of my dreams and begin to feel unsettled. My hands curl up into fists. My toes twitch. I widen my stance. And I know that inspiration is only a beat away.
Recently, the inspiration was literal: I made a Bruce Lee portrait. Being who I am, it took the form of a duct tape vest. Art? Maybe. You can decide.
Keep you posted...