At work, we use a computer program called PeopleSoft, which always makes me think of the food that would be served at a nursing home for cannibals. Hardy-har!
Here's some sketches from the past 6 months or so...
It's a New Year's tradition in Estonia to draw a giant ass at the stroke of midnight to ensure a year of abundance and good fortune.
I was going to sit out this week's jensartnight theme of "Draw your post-apocalyptic self," but after seeing the awesome work by thewalkingman, dandydevildog, bougieman, and fufu_thing, I couldn't resist. So, go to jensartnight and see their and my drawings. Here's a preview of mine:
A humble pair of legs...but is that a splint on one? Ah, you'll have to go see....
The drawing I made is actually similar in many ways to the apocalyptically themed drawing I posted here a couple of days ago (it's ok to rip oneself off!), and to this drawing from around 2001
I drew this as just a piece of fan art for the independent radio station WFMU, of which I was a big fan, and they ended up using it as one of the t-shirt designs for their fund-raising marathon that year
Stylin'! If I'd known that they'd make a t-shirt out of it, I would have done it differently (more solid lines, less hatching), but I'm pretty happy with it (the only down note is that 9-11 happened a few months later). Many thanks to Danny Hellman, who did the coloring.
(A just-published book, Apocalypse How, sports a tag line (Turn the end times into the best of times) similar to mine. Oh, well)
About a year ago I planned to publish a digest-sized zine under the name SERVING SUGGESTION. I wound up putting the kibosh on it for several reasons, primarily because digest size was just too small for me to work with effectively and also because I wasn't happy with a lot of the work I'd produced for it, such as the cover:
I like the basic idea, but I wasn't able to execute it to my satisfaction. The homeless guy looks stupid and you can barely tell it's ET in the basket on the front of the bike. Plus, the whore just looks flat. I may re-do this with a slightly different composition.
What would have been the back cover didn't turn out too much better either:
The people just aren't ugly enough. The drawing which would have gone under some text on the inside front cover is also a bit flat (plus my bulge is WAY bigger in real life):
Oh, well!
So last week I stopped off to see the 99-cent-store Kitty (formerly the 14th St. Kitty)in the locale after which he is named, only to find that he was missing. Not only that, but his little litter pan and water dish were gone too. There was a rather disreptuable looking iPod repair kiosk, of all things, crammed into a small space at the front of the store and presided over by different owners, which was also gone. A sign stated that they'd moved down the street, to their own storefront. Assuming that they'd taken the cat with them, I set off for the new place, where I was informed, to my increasing alarm and uneasiness, that the 99-cent-store Kitty was, in fact, not theirs and had stayed behind at the main store. I returned to the 99-cent store and inquired of the cat's whereabouts of the owner, a rather shifty Indian woman who did not respond to my query too enthusiastically. "My brother took him to Long Island," she stated. "Is he coming back?" "Oh, yes," she assured me "he will be back." "Then so will I," I thought.
While I liked the idea of the little guy getting some quiet time and perhaps enjoying a barbeque out in the suburbs, something didn't quite sit right, so I returned to the 99-cent store today. Again, no litter pan. No water dish. The usual owner was also missing. I was alone in the store. I walked up and down the aisles, peering behind the shelves, until a man I assume was the aforementioned brother appeared. "What you looking for?", he asked, guardedly. "The cat that used to be here." "The cat is in Pennsylvania now. Somebody took him." "So, he's not coming back?" I asked, trying to mask my shock. "No" "You know," I said, with just a hint of menace in my voice, "I really liked that cat." He nodded. I looked at him for a moment, then returned his nod. We understood each other. The bastard knows this isn't over. I'll find out what happened to that cat. Pennsylvania, my ass. I bet the little kitty found out something about them. They're probably selling that poison toothpaste from China or peddling snuff videos from behind the counter. Whatever it is, I'm gonna bring their whole operation down if I have to, but I'm gonna get that cat back. I owe it to the little guy. And to the city.
Here's a drawing I did when I was about 11 years old. It was drawn on the back of a test on which I had to write a paragraph about "values," which concludes with the sentence: "I believe values are good for groups because it gives them something to live by."
This drawing was inspired by a comment locopuff made about pear-shaped girls. (I can't decide whether or not to draw her hair in darker.)
EDIT: Fuck! After posting this I realized that some schmutz must have gotten on the scanner because there's a blotch on her thigh that shouldn't be there. Damn it...I'm in no mood to hook up my scanner and mess around with Photoshop and all that crap now, so this will have to do for now. Just ignore that crushed gnat or whatever the hell it is on her leg.
EDIT: After writing the above edit, I realized the problem would be really easy to fix and that it wouldn't be necessary to re-scan the photo, etc. So, fix it I did. But, in the spirit of full disclosure, I wanted to leave my first edit. Think of it as a window into my thought process; as you can see, the view is pretty dismal.
I'm a little embarassed to have to admit that the unicorn in my BRITISH SMILES posting for this week's jensartnight was not the first one I've ever drawn. That would be this drawing, from about 10 years ago
A couple of weeks ago I posted a drawing of a dead baby bird, and yesterday, as I was walking around my neighborhood, I come across three of the little guys lying on the sidewalk (right outside of a church, actually!), with the ants crawling all over them.
here's a pic of one of the poor little chickadees
There was a time when it seemed that every lamppost in New York City had a crazy photocopied rant plastered to it; now I guess everybody posts their rants electronically. So, as I was walking down 6th Avenue the other day, I was really happy to see that at least one nutjob is still kickin' it old school.
