Sasha, once more.

Same as the last drawing, but with one drawing extracted and cleaned up a bit.

Brush pen ahoy!

The problem with intending to draw in the park is that my dog doesn't like staying put. She gets really whiny. And so, I'm mostly just able to get mere outlines down before having to pack up again and leave. Drawing at home is much easier, if you can find a decent subject. I got a bit annoyed with my lack of style, so I ditched my usual Bic Z4 Needle Point and brought out the Pitt Brush Pen. I bought it in early September, used it for one drawing, and decided I didn't like it. Last night, however, I changed my mind. It allows for more expression, and frees me from worrying about cross-hatching. I like that it lays down a goodly amount of ink. I'm vowing to use it exclusively until it runs out.

Pikes Peak, Cheyenne Mountain, Sasha (twice, the upper one being much more accurate), a twig, a slipper, and a Christmas tree.

Tootsie politics.

Dude doesn't end sentences with prepositions, so don't ask.

Kringle's Fancy Feast.

Little known facts about our man Santa:

1. He thinks Father Christmas is the dumbest alias for him, just edging out Pere Noel.

2. He's never actually set foot inside the state of Wisconsin.

3. He's absolutely mad for au gratin potatoes. It's reaching near-intervention status.

Joseph.

Working on my composition and my whimsy.

The Holidaiz Are Here!!!!

Stuffed snowmen are totally manly. What a cute green bowtie he has. I'm very psyched that the Christmas season is finally here. I had started to twitch a bit. This is the last drawing in the second sketchbook of my little art revival. Time to start a third.

Self-portrait.

I usually get the shape of the face first, then work in. This time I went for particulars and worked my way out. You can see how that went. This is from a picture that's about five years old. I didn't realize it before, but my face has aged quite a bit recently. I looked so young and vibrant back then. I guess that's what five years of easy living will do to you.

Flower.

From a design in my most flipped-through magazine, the 2002 Comm Arts Design Annual. I think it's from a poster for a Tennessee Williams play or something. I got distracted in the middle. It's difficult to do something flowy and organic like a flower with surgical cross-hatch lines involved.

Have a happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Regardless of religious affiliation, we can all celebrate this holiday for what it truly is: an excuse to look at everything we have and be grateful. Gratitude is severely lacking in the world today. Let's at least get it right tomorrow.

Candles and guilt.

They go hand in hand this time of year, don't they?

Apologies.

I apologize for nothing posted lately. I've been valiantly battling against an invisible enemy called food poisoning. A word to the wise: If making frozen chicken patties, use the oven, not the microwave. I've been so out of it that I haven't done any drawing or really anything useful for several days. I'll get back into the swing of things soon though. Just in time to take a few days off for Thanksgiving. I really hope I get back to fighting weight before then.

On Sunday our water went out for three hours. It terrified me. I kept thinking, "What will my dog drink? Will we be able to take showers tomorrow? How long can I go without using the toilet?" (Keep in mind that this last question was by far the most pertinent to my situation.) It made me really appreciate running water. I'm pretty pathetic.

Telecasters own.

I think I like digital coloring. Can I get an amen for Photoshop? It's funny, I wanted to give up on this drawing at least five times. Besides the hands and the neck of the guitar, I like it.

Late night double feature picture show.

From this photo actually. Old portraits always remind me of three things:

1. Investment bankers with dorky names,
2. Obsolete international politics, and
3. Institutionalized sexism.

Go figure.

This started out with some colored pencil, but I think for all intents and purposes that I'm done with color. Grayscale is more my kind of place.


I do with drawing what I do with conversation. If it's up to me to come up with the topic, I panic and start looking around me. It drives those who really know me crazy. Sorry.

Purple Jesus.

Rose Art markers and Bic Z4 on watercolor paper.

Closed circuit to AP:

Nice job so far, man. I haven't been this excited about a Vikings rookie since Randy Moss. Too bad about your ligament though. Here's the thing -- just take your rehab nice and slow. There's no use busting yourself up for a coach who doesn't understand the fundamentals of running a football team (things like, "Have a quarterback who can throw"). Next year when we have a new coach, quarterback, and receivers, then you can come back and dominate. Looking forward to it, big guy.

Nick
(and all Vikings fans everywhere)

[Note: I was channeling my Fauvist side here. I could really use some comments on the use of markers. I want to keep up with them, but I'm not sure if I should.]

Ken Jennings.

Next in the series of people whose pictures are readily available is self-termed celebrinerd Ken Jennings. You may remember him as the guy who won over two million dollars on Jeopardy! back in 2004. I've been reading his blog regularly for about a year and half, and got to read his book last winter. He's quite down-to-earth and un-nerdly for a guy who pretty much knows every piece of trivia ever. He ranks at the top of the list of Coolest LDS Guys Whose Blogs I've Read. He doesn't rank at the top of Coolest LDS I Know, however. That still belongs to Skizz McGrizz.

Here we see Ken resting on a stack of books in a library, after a tough day at the salon. He's contemplating his money, and how much smarter he is than the yahoo over in the DVD section. Upon seeing this drawing, my wife merely said, "Why, honey, why?"

Because we all need our heroes.

Drawing table.

I always hate when I pull this crap. A line drawing usually feels so unfinished when read into a computator, so I try to Photoshop in some color to help it feel more done. But it always leaves me feeling lazy and foolish. I really should just finish the drawing itself when I do it initially, but sometimes I just hate trying.

American Aquarium Drinker.

This is what Jeff Tweedy of Wilco would look like with 15% less grizzling. Stubble is hard.

If you didn't catch Wilco on Austin City Limits on Saturday, you really missed out. I was particularly impressed by their musical prowess and Tweedy's amicability in between songs. I pulled out Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and have had it on pretty constant rotation ever since. "Ashes of American Flags" might be the saddest song ever.

Two more on the upswing.

This is proof that getting scribbly can save even the most awful of drawings.


Let's see... professor, beard, glasses. Looks like JK Rowling owes somebody a royalty check.

This is Ted Sherarts, a former art professor of mine. Nobody has more pics on flickr than him, or maybe a handful of people at best. My wife thinks he looks like Santa Claus. I didn't see the resemblance until she said that.

(Note: not intended to be a statement on tedsher's sexual preference. Wow, I really didn't foresee that sentence when I woke up this morning.)

G3.

A word to consumers: make sure they're not coming out with a new line of iPods before you buy one that will soon be antiquated.

I want to finish out my current sketchbook before the end of November. That means a mere 27 drawings this month. [Gulp.] So they won't all have a lot of effort put into them (see above), but I hope the constant practice will help me out.