Senator Obama and Rev. Jeremiah Wright, the albatross around his neck. Baseball legend and all-around DB Roger Clemens and country music star Mindy McCready, the albatross around his neck (or other body part, as it were). Embattled Zimbabwe president Robert Mugabe and Hawks basketball star Joe Johnson, the albatross around his neck. Wait, maybe I got my story lines crossed there.
How I wish it were dreary. Coffee and oatmeal work best with the doldrums.
Sorry for the lack of productivity this week. There was my birthday, and a seminar, and a boatload of laziness. More to come Monday for sure.
Now playing: The White Stripes - Fell In Love With A Girl
I really dig the Library of Congress. They provide such a great pool of images to harvest. I guess farmers in the 1940s mostly thought about combs. That's my guess, anyhow.
Now playing: The Beach Boys - Sloop John B (Stereo Version)
"Out with the old, in with the new. A trip to the dog park, a bit of yard work, and some shopping, ending with me scoring some new flip flops. My old ones have served me well over the past year, but their time had come. They were warped, worn, and dilapidated. So my new ones are clean, shaped, and have many miles ahead of them. They're also more expensive and heavier than any pair I've had before. Sweet.
"The new set of cheap paints I got have a much different brush than my first set. It almost looks usable. I may try it once or twice, but I doubt it will replace my Princeton #2 round. Still, it does seem a bit posh for the 97¢ price tag."
Purple really scans like garbage. The brown isn't much better. Suffice it to say this looks more verisimilar in person.
"It's Friday, and on top of our normal exhaustion, Marcia's not feeling so hot. So tonight it is my pleasure to be the juice fetcher and general purpose errand boy and fusser. I myself plopped down in front of the television immediately upon coming home. I managed a drawing or two amid the syndicated sitcoms and the Simpsons Movie. It feels like a slow start to the weekend, but hopefully the juice will kick in and Marcia will buck up tomorrow. If the weather cooperates, we may be in luck for some running around in the next couple of days. And if not that's cool too. We can always use a little time on the couch."
Now playing: Buck-O-Nine - My Town
With other paintings, I have no problem going with crazy skin colors. But with this one, I felt a latent urge to get it somewhat right. Drawing the lips, or the bridge of the nose, I wondered subconsciously if I was being racist by being accurate. I don't consider myself racist in any way, but my worrying over perception caught me off guard. In my entry for "stupidest thing a white boy has ever thought," I actually wondered if Jay-Z would be offended at this likeness of him. I actually went there. So allow me to appease my conscience.
[Closed circuit to Jay-Z]
Can I call you Jigga? No? Didn't think so. Man, if you actually care about a white boy wannabe illustrator in Colorado, you have way too much time on your hands. Go back to pioneering hip-hop, or better yet, go back to Beyonce. Speaking of which, what up with that? The first stanza of "Big Pimpin" led me to believe you weren't the type to give your heart to a woman. I believe your exact words were, "not for nothin', never happen, I'll be forever mackin." Your response?
"4.2.08 - I look at my screen and see only blank white. I've been dancing around this empty idea for a couple hours, and it won't get any better without help. I reach for some old CAs, flip through them for inspiration. No dice. All I feel inspired to do is draw and paint, not design. I'm beginning to think that the results speak for themselves. When designing gets difficult, I reach for my pen and brush, and I almost always find joy there. Have I missed my true calling? Initially, it appears so. But if that is the case, I have no remorse over it. I can always start down another path, and this way at least I get a paycheck while I chase down what I really want to do. And this hobby really works well when it's relief from my job. I hate to imagine how it would be if it was the job from which I need some relief."
In retrospect, I really do enjoy being a designer sometimes. I wonder how many true designers would get joy from some of the stuff I'd had to do lately. But my question is this: people out there who have a job doing what you absolutely love, where do you turn when that job wears on you?
Now playing: Melpo Mene - Dream About Me
I bring a cahier with me to pretty much anywhere I go, including church. My mind tends to wander, and sketching a person talking helps me focus. I'll do enough of these to someday have a style. An interesting thing to note here is that, contrary to countless ads and flyers surrounding evangelical America, the people aren't actually smiling.