An interesting sight. Ah HA.....

This is both pencil and completely unfamiliar to me. I cannot remember creating it, but I have no doubt that it is mine and probably drawn while I was on the phone. I tend to draw while I am on the phone, talking or not. Also while having conversations with people.

Occasionally I will draw through a conversation with someone, and when what I am doing becomes more interesting then what we are talking about, I will simply stop looking up or responding until they leave. Sometimes this can be awkward, in which case you just have to power through, pretending they aren't there, regardless of what they are doing. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.

Other times it is so rewarding that I want to have a cigarette afterwards.

I wouldn't though.

I gave that up long ago.

Duplicitous behavior. In which he tries to pass off a photoshop corrected work as original. He fails, due to his explanation.

I corrected this in photoshop. I drew it maybe 10 years ago or more, and have always hated the trunk of the tree due to the fact that I colored it in with a wax crayon. Wax crayons do not erase well.

Now due to the wonders of computer "aids", we'll call them, I can make it, if not pleasing, at least presentable.

Please ignore the shoddy photoshop corrections around the edges. I am in a hurry. My incredibly pregnant wife and, I confess, myself as well, are waiting for the bags of chips which I have yet to go buy. I will now be going to the store to buy 2 bags of chips. One for my lovely pregnant wife, and one for me, who has no such excuse for buying chips at 10:30 at night. Be that as it may, I bid you adieu.

Father.

I was sitting by his bed as he fumbled with a tape recorder, thinking maybe he could still fix it. His hands weren't working very well by this point, but he refused to admit that he was no longer able to repair something so delicate. I used to sit there every day and draw while we talked. It was worth it just being there. He would always ask to see what I was drawing, and laughed and shook his head when I showed him this, but I could tell he was pleased. I was holding his hand when the cancer took him four months later, just down the hall from where I drew this.

Intense sadness. The shedding of past lives through fire. This is the Thorn.

Pen in moleskine small. Colored in photoshop. One of those things that comes from mulling a plot point. In this case, its a mans life deconstructing around him. An all systems failure. Granted, it looks more like an android than a man, and perhaps it is. If I'm not mistaken, even machines feel pain.


I may be mistaken.

The beginnings of our quest started here. High Five! ....right? ...high five.....?

The quintessential portrait of a genius. The man has talent. Lets just accept it and move on. This is around thirteen years old. Pencil on paper and has some bad water damage. It may actually be coffee damage, but whatever it is, I sort of covered it up with photoshop. It mostly affected the hair, but there is actually several large orange stains across his face which I took out. I am tempted to include an inverted edition of this.......aw hell, I can't resist...
Looks like a photo when I hide all its imperfections.

I saw him in concert when I was 15 or something. Wouldn't trade it for anything. That man can SHRED an accordion like no other.

In the footsteps of the masters...like KLIMT. My personal favorite. This is NOTHING like Klimt.

So, was this drawn from memory?
No.
So, you were looking at someone while you drew?
No.
A photo then?
Yes.
Is this someone you know?
No, it is not.
Did you take the picture you drew it from?
No I did not.
Did you compensate the photographer and model for the use of their photo?
No, absolutely not.
Would you if you could?
Of course.
Does the girl in this photo speak English?
It is very unlikely that she does, no.
Did you steal this photo from the Internet and then draw it without permission?
Yes I did.
Do you feel bad about it?
No I don't.
Isn't looking at a photo while drawing akin to cheating?
Yes.  You might as well be tracing.  In fact, you are tracing, you filthy ass.
Are you a talentless hack?
Perhaps, but who cares?
Is this girl from Russia?
Of course.
You disappoint me.
I want to be surprised by that.
How many beans are in this jar?
That's a seagull.
Yes.  It is. 

If I were a scientist, then perhaps I would just invert everything and like it better.

"Tricycle".

Charcoal on newsprint.

Done in 30 seconds or less. A lesson in impressions. The least amount of thought and planning sometimes gives birth to the most poignant of expression. Instinct is so-called for a reason.

Do not, however, apply this rule to buying gifts. Or do so at your own risk.

in which the moleskine realizes its importance in the scheme of things and vanishes, blindly into the night.

The title of this piece is as follows:

"It is somewhat of a presupposition, I suppose, as it were, if someone could be so naive, as to presuppose a supposition, what folly, and oh such erroneous advice leveled upon such an individual so as to encumber him with such a grave forecasting of this immediate future."

pencil on paper. In my moleskine proper.

And I am absolutely kidding about that being the title. That title is hardly english, let alone well written, not to mention nonsensical. This is a concept sketch for SNOWMAN, yet again. I fully intend to do an entire slew of new scans and thus vary the field a bit, at least in terms of posting, and I hope to do that very very soon. Please bear with me.

If you are at all bored, please shoot me a digital letter and i shall do my very utmost to remedy that posthaste. Also my analytics has told me that absolutely no-one has been to this site for the last four days, but I sincerely hope that that is not the case. I suspect that analytics is broken, but I hesitate to pry.

much like me myself, all glower and no real threat, but you did not hear it from me.

My absolutely stunning and beautiful wife has informed me that this looks exactly like something pretending to be scary.

It is, of course, nothing of the sort, and is indeed terrifying and more threatening than anything else I have ever drawn while on the phone. I tend to get a lot of sketching done whilst on the phone, most of it garbage, and only when driving.

"he stared at them in silence, dumbfounded, both limbs hanging limply in front like tea soaked toast."

A meercat. Possibly should be two words. More volatile than nitro-glycerine dipped in butter and gasoline and then lit on fire. A tiny furry statue made of CHAOS.


Graphite on paper. 20x30 ish...I am too damn lazy to go dig this up and measure it. In my MIND it is 20x30ish.

We may all have to live with that.

Also, I feel like a fraud when I write the word "graphite". Just who, exactly, do I think that I am? Its a pencil. Nothing more. I am not the kind of artist who says things like "graphite".

We may all also have to live with this as well.

kermit courtney: her o' the fern hair

Here's another turn of the century piece, once again from 1999. It was based on a picture of Courtney Love, but I adjusted her features, most notably the eyes and hair, in an effort to create something slightly surreal. I now see that adjustment for what it truly was:

...PURE LAZINESS.

I think I was struggling with her eyes and threw the proverbial towel in. This is quite big, 20"x30", graphite on paper, and the only thing I like about it is her shirt.

What a waste. I am truly sorry. I will not disappoint you again.

That also is not true.

I will.

The twentieth century suitcase.

This is a suitcase. Created in 1999. Inkwash. Using a brush. I have always loved it. What IS inside? It haunts me. If you know, please share with everyone.

I really need to break out the ink and brush more often. The results are CLEARLY stunning, not merely pedestrian as when I interpretive dance. Take now for instance.

Right?

Yes.

Obviously pedestrian.

Thank you.

Also, please note on your calenders the soon to be enjoyed...

"an indecipherable poem in seven parts"

...to be unveiled slowly of course, written and illustrated by myself.

That sounded vain and pretentious. Please bear with me. The poem is indeed vain and pretentious, AND indecipherable, (for what good poem isn't), but it will be good practice for future work...more of an exercise really. I am looking forward to it. Much like whatever is inside that damn suitcase.

a potential beast of untold horrors....will also serve tea if asked politely.

Concept sketch for unnamed project.....also best project I have ever invented, and most exciting for me, a virtual smelting pot of genius. This would be assassin persona II, done in my fake moleskine with a mechanical pencil...a glorious staedtler 0.5mm. It was supposed to be an upside down moose face beast, but it turned into this lion-type tea butler.

detail. the antithesis of prolific. also laziness...and neuroticism.

done in pencil in the fake moleskine...the love child of a long staff meeting and my magic fingers. (?)

small...about 6"x5"

I find it entirely impossible to concentrate or comprehend anything in a classroom/meeting setting unless I am drawing. I find that I have to focus the dominating section of my brain...(the creative side) on something I don't have to think about, so that the other parts of my brain...(the ones responsible for real life), can gather necessary information important for survival. Its a constant struggle.

Needless to say, If I'm not drawing, I'm probably not hearing you. Also I really struggle if I'm wearing pants.

meet snowman, now of an abandoned world...offspring of a murdered father, avenger of a destroyed people, brave savior of us all.

Here is the previously mentioned 'SNOWMAN', from my 'real' moleskine. He is not made of snow. He is of a more substantial constitution, but has been codenamed as such, for obvious reasons.





Please support your local Tarsem Singh, if at all possible.


Fincher and Jonze do.


You should too.

where would we be without Neil Gaiman. And his famously nasty temper. Oh that temper...what a pity and a shame, he had such promise.

This one spawned in my full size knock off moleskine, cheaply made but with a glorious mid/heavy weight white art paper inside. I have never seen another like it. shame, really. i would buy them all. Well no, i wouldnt, but I would have bought at least ONE more. It doesn't lie flat, but that was something i managed to ignore and or destroy.


This was inspired by sandman, although you wouldn't know it entirely, but for the hint of gas mask hose trunk just there. If Dream was just a tiny bit more Desire...and the Terminator.

That reminds me, i'm still short Absolute Vol II and III.



But seriously, SIGUR ROS: TAAK.

Revel in it. I cant walk away from it.

Here is a sketch from my mini moleskine. quite small. pencil and eraser on moleskine notebook paper. I actually enjoy the notebook paper much better than the actual thick art paper, and i will tell you why. Right now I will tell you. Here is why: The note book paper takes a fountain pen like no ones business, while the art paper is absolutely too smooth and surfaced to take it. The ink beads off, causing no small annoyance. I will only be buying the notebook paper from now on, based simply on the fact THAT I CAN WRITE ON IT. Oh moleskine....where is your 18th century counterpart. I'm sure it was quality.

Tonight I listened to "Saeglopur" by Sigur Ros. Parts of that song are like standing in front of God, enveloped completely. It took me off guard, and i wept, moved. I found a translation of the lyrics.

Saeglopur

a lifi

kominn heim

saeglopur

a lifi

kominn heim

pao kemur kafari

Translation:

"a lost seafarer"

alive

has returned home

a lost seafarer

alive

has returned home

a diver comes

that song brought me to tears and I FELT GOD.

I dont even care if that translation is wrong. That was the translation i needed.

socktopus III.

This sketch is somewhat of a departure. It is a concept from my webcomic 'octopus and the birdlady'. I've been calling it that for so long i'm not sure i can change it. Now...would you know if i did? what if i called it the......imaginar..nevermind. you'll see, and it will please you in odd ways. much like daisies.

the advent of nude figure art may portend the end of the world.

heres a little gem, dutifully inspired by the stunning work of a certain audrey kawasaki. i've just started ripping her off...and I intend to again. As if you don't.