Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 30, 2011
The first image is a recreation of the original below, which was drawn and colored in the early 1980s on poster board cut to card size. The recreation must have been done in the 1990s, but I don't remember it (like much of that decade). I still have the pack of hand drawn cards, though it is largely incomplete.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Monday, December 26, 2011
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Friday, December 23, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
In the center of the meadow a small circle of standing stones stood and in the center of the circle danced a young god, naked and blind to all but his dance. From one foot he would leap, turn in the air and land on his hands inches from a stone, then vault to the top of the stone and spin.
Original pen and ink, ca 1995
Monday, December 12, 2011
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Were such things here as we do speak about?
Or have we eaten on the insane root
That takes the reason prisoner?
~William Shakespeare, Macbeth (1.3.83)
The original drawing is from 1977 and was done for my high school's annual creative arts publication, The Insane Root. It was used as the frontis piece. I always get a little bit giddy every time I see it; I remain very fond of it.
The inspiration came from a guest on the Merv Griffin show, which I watched every afternoon after school. He was showing off some of his drawings, one of which was "tessellated" faces. He referred to it as wallpaper.
I wish I could remember who it was. Alas, memory is the second thing to go...
Thursday, December 8, 2011
An excerpt from The Looking Spring:
Cameron sat beneath the ancient Single Tree. The little boy sat next to him. “What was your name before?” the boy asked.
“I don’t remember,” Cameron said. “I woke up and I couldn’t remember.”
“Couldn’t remember your name or couldn’t remember before?”
My name. Before. My name before. Before I woke up...
In 1992, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was all the rage. This was my response to those venerable amphibians. I've colored this guy several times and I don't anticipate a time in the future when I won't trot out the sketch again for a new treatment. He's one of my favorites.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Side 1: Suburbs of the Gods Suite
1. Paragon of Mortality (Dennis)
2. A Street Like Della
3. Cul de sac, Cul de mort
4. Love Triangle (Bermuda)
5. Epilogue (Tract Houses in the Sky)
1. Penelope Like the Stars
3. Acid Bath
4. Xeno's Paradox (Closer Than Ever)
5. (I'm Not Your) Funky (Alien Love Child Stand-in)
Reno Nevada: Vocals, castanets
Davida Martinique: Bass, backing vocals, Moog bass on Spittoon
Philip Sorcerer: Synths, upright and toy pianos on Spittoon
Astro Fellington-Worth: Drums, percussion, acoustic tom-tom guitar on A Street Like Della
Produced by Splatter Long for Psykotikus Ltd, London.
©1978, Danubis Records, Los Francisco, Arizona.
Friday, December 2, 2011
The first pair of images were drawn and colored in Microsoft Paint in 1999. In a rare instance of good planning, I saved outline versions of both The Tower and The Juggler (aka The Magician) as sketches -- that is black outlines on a white background.
Today I imported the sketches into Adobe Illustrator and applied gradients for color. Illustrator smoothed the jagged lines from the original paint files which I like much better, and the softer gradients give the cards a much less cartoony feel. Oddly, both versions have their own vitality, which was something I wasn't expecting.
So much for the pretentious artist commentary. What do you think?
Thursday, December 1, 2011
He saw the parchment on the beach and thought of her, but when he picked it up only the mystery remained. Was this the map? Was this the way? He carefully folded the enigmatic clue and walked further along.
In time the sun began to set and again she appeared, a vague vision behind his eyes. A glint of white at the edge of the sea, too constant to be foam, too crisp to be a jellyfish, caught his eye and he ambled toward the water. Stooping to pick it up, he found it was a sand dollar. The doves inside rattled. The five-petaled blossom on it's back was beautiful, but on it's underside a message had been scratched:
"Come to me." It was signed only, "S."
S. was her initial too. Was it from her? Was this a clue? He sat down in the sand as the sun disappeared over the horizon, pondering the events of his walk.
When the tidal wave washed over him, he went back home. He lit a fire and put on the pot for tea. He carefully placed the parchment and the sand dollar on his table and prayed for an answer...but none came. There was only the roar of the ocean, the glint of the fire, and the aroma of tea.