Birdie.

Birdie has a strange ear for people: if you've spoken once near him, he's got you filed away for good, even if he never sees your face again. In his story, he treats it as just a trick of his, nothing to make a fuss about. The night his father's boat came in very late, with thick fog settled over the dock, Birdie recognized him before anyone else: he picked his father's voice out from twenty others and took off running into the white nothing. He doesn't think of it as a gift; to him it's just normal to hear better than everyone else.

The great thing about Birdie being an emperor penguin comes down to hearing. This species calls using a two-voice system at once, a double sound that cuts through the wind; that way, in colonies of thousands, parents and chicks find each other only by each one's call, as unique as a fingerprint. Birdie doesn't know any of that; to him it's just that he's good with people. I created this portrait facing forward, staring straight at you, which on a youth t-shirt holds up well to a steady gaze. If you want to hear the rest of his story, it's all there in his biography.