Baconstruck!

Some things are automatic when you see them every day. Some things aren't.

Elvis

It occurs to me that Elvis Presley could be a myth that society agreed they would make up. Really, I wouldn't know any better. As technology progresses it seems this would become more difficult, but it's still essentially what happened with Paul Bunyan or Johnny Appleseed, right?

I loves me some bloodfire!

Wow. It's been a long time. I've been very busy on my paternity leave and over the holidays. I've even done plenty of art, just haven't posted it. And now it feels old and unworthy of sharing. But here's something I just did!


It's sort of a visual basis for my next attempt at a children's book I've yet to write or even choose a topic for just yet. Any suggestions for a topic that children need to know about?

Drowning in a Desert

Petunia and Pops preview spread

I just can't help posting these. I guess I love the ego boost. This isn't being done in order, so don't panic if the story doesn't make sense.

Petunia and Pops.

It's been a while, no? This is what I've been up to: my first foray into the magical world of children's literature. It's the first completed spread from a story I'm writing called "Petunia and Pops," about a penguin who loves to paint and her slightly-OCD father. Wishful thinking? Perhaps.

Writing and such.

They say a writer writes, always. Sure, it was an actor who most famously said that (Billy Crystal in the monumentally funny Throw Momma From the Train), but that doesn’t make it any less true. A thousand words a day appears to be a very difficult task at first, but here’s hoping it gets easier over time.

Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’m a writer now. I’m a writer who illustrates. Or an illustrator who writes, I can’t remember. It turns out that when I recently said I had one singular dream to be an illustrator, I lied. I have two dreams; writing is the other. Fortunately, I started reading the “Writing Great Fiction” series of books, getting Plot and Structure from my local library yesterday. That book suggested the thousand-words-a-day thing. We’ll see how it goes. But Nick, you’re thinking, you suck at writing! So?! Maybe it’s not so hard, you don’t know.

I haven’t gotten to the part of the book where I can actually put any tools to use or practice an exercise in constructing a dynamite plot. Pretty much the whole book has been about the necessity of plot, regardless of genre or intention of the writer’s novel. That’s handy and encouraging, because I’ve yet to find a genre or intention in any of my writing.

This isn’t the first time I’ve dreamed of writing the Great American Novel. If you scour the archives enough (or if you’re one of two people I can think of who frequented this site back then), you can find previous attempts at writing. Not unsuccessful attempts, too, if I may be so bold to say. I can write a few paragraphs with relative ease. That’s never been the problem.

The problem is that I can’t write an entire book. I got about 15,000 words in to my grandest attempt and discovered that my plot was stinking like so much mold gathered on the studs of the walls in my basement. I wanted to join up with National Novel Writing Month this year, but was cut short by so much mold gathered on the studs of the walls in my basement. It’s been that kind of autumn. It’s probably for the best that I spared the world from that kind of literary monkey dance.

One thing I was able to recently do that’s not really related to writing—-at all—-is free up some time last Friday for illustrating practice. Now, don’t be harsh, but this is one of the three things I made.


You may be a kind person who has something nice to say about this, but please don’t. I think it’s terrible, and I won’t be talked out of it. This is not a ploy to gain sympathy of any kind, it’s just I think it’s terrible. And the reason I think it’s so terrible is because it came close to my objective before going horribly awry.

Where did it go so wrong? you ask. Well, the ink, in short. My proposed sequence for media on this one went: pencil, watercolor wash, watercolor crayons, watercolor accents, ink, acrylics, ink, and crayon. It was the second ink application where I went from areas of ink to lines of ink, and that was where I failed. I tried a couple other processes later in the day (while waiting for the mold remediators to not show up) and I’ll post those results another time. They were also unsuccessful, for other reasons.

I’m doomed to partial failure in all my creative endeavors until I decide to stick it out and really learn the craft. For illustration, that seems impossible without going back to school. For writing, luckily and hopefully, there will be the possibility of improving with practice and library books. Here’s hoping.

Six hundred thirty-one? Whatever. I’m through.

A little time off.

Hello friends, well-wishers, and voyeurs. I wanted to update you on what the deal is with this blog.

I've been forced into making some major repairs to my basement, which has raided my calendar and checkbook to an extensive degree. This also involved taking down my studio area for the time being. We've passed the rock bottom point of the crisis, and we're on our way back up now, thank God. There is still a lot of work to do, however. It's all up in the air right now, but I'm hoping that we'll be back on track by Thanksgiving. So...

You won't be hearing from me until then on this blog. If you really get a jones (which I highly doubt), you can look at my flickr photostream. That will keep you sated in the off chance that you actually track my stuff.

When this blog relaunches after Thanksgiving (let's call it December 1st unless something changes), it will be all about illustration. And by that I mean that it will be all about developing as an illustrator in an attempt to one day be a full-time illustrator. Maybe there will be links to other illo blogs, maybe other fun and fancy blog trickery, who knows. But I feel like I have been treading water lately and it's time to max out and GO FOR IT!!! YEEEAAAAHHHH!!!!!

So yeah. Come back on December 1st.

Foux da fa fa,
Nick

b032

I'm fighting a battle with fussiness. Apparently the black ink on a twig won't be part of the forces next time.

Two things I do better when I abandon:

1. Realistic depth, and
2. Attempts at funky line quality.

Sorry for the massive layoff, I had a lag in inspiration, followed by a homeowner crisis, followed by a "vacation". But now I'm back, and although not quite inspired, I can at least trudge along until my homeowner crisis is resolved and things return to normal.

A couple new links on the right: Urban Sketchers is a new blog from Gabi Campanario (aka Seattle Sketcher) that's basically a collection of, you guessed it, urban sketches from contributors around the world. Good viewing. One of the contributors is Olha Pryymak, who aside from being a good sketcher in my favorite city in the world, seems to be an informal student of the old masters. Also perhaps the only contributor to regularly use oils, which I find intimidating and admirable.

Executive

The CEO of United Healthcare makes more in an hour than most Americans make in a year. Think about that. Do you think this comes into consideration when they ponder whether or not to raise premiums?

The CEOs of major investment banks get millions on top of their ludicrous salaries when their company gets bought out by taxpayers. Somewhere to the tune of several hundred years' worth of my salary. What's the difference? I haven't endangered the economy.

Crooks and swindlers. I'd say it's time to get our pitchforks and torches, but we'd never get inside their gated communities.

b030

I anticipate winter unlike anyone I know. At the first sign of fall I rejoice. Even this week, in the midst of summer-like weather, I sun myself in the glorious light from the newborn football season. All is magnificence for the next few months.

I also feel like I should start doing things from imagination if I'm ever going to get anywhere as an illustrator. This is a lot less terrible than I thought it would be, frankly. I find that I'm afraid of painting from imagination not because I think I lack the skill, but because I'm worried my imagination might be stupid and boring. Pondering greatly helps the process and decreases the stress.

I need to make some stylistic changes, methinks. Pen instead of ink and twig, more painterliness on foreground figures, and stop making the clothing look so dang poofy. These are tangible steps I can take.

Sea of Leaves

The thing about living in Colorado is that the leaves don't quite gain the same spectrum of colors in the fall here. I miss seeing oranges, reds, and browns. Here, it's all yellow. Darn aspens. Last year I raked the leaves in my lawn for the first time since I was a little kid. I wanted to jump into the pile, but my neighbor was watching from across the street. I should've done it anyway. Maybe I will this year.

Parisian Coffee

I was about to ask for the check when suddenly my coffee exploded!!! Whoa!

Otherwise it was a pleasant meal.

Everything is pleasant in the fall. I even love the warm days, when they have that undertone of the coming coolness. I love doing laundry on Sundays in front of a non-stop barrage of football. Soon it will all be falling leaves and pumpkin pie and fires in the fireplace. Summer can suck it.

Fielding

There's nothing about 1910s baseball that has anything to do with ABBA. Nonetheless, "Take a Chance on Me" will forever be linked in my mind with this picture. It's been in my head for days. I can't get it out. I keep walking around with a really cheesy grin on my face, talking with a vaguely European accent. It's terrible. These pictures, however, not so terrible. Part of my "do it again until you get it right" scheme.

Pitcher

1. I confess to you that I've done most of my work on Moleskines because I like the ego stroking that comes with extra views, comments, and favorites on flickr.

2. Baseball as a subject pulls me into itself. I can't and won't stop with baseball illos.

3. It's about time for Ashton Kutcher to stop popping up on my screen all the time.

4. I'm so done with record heat and driest months on record. Bring on the fall.

Sharing

Let's hear it for platitudes! As the good book says, who needs originality when you've got a puppy? This is the third of three.

Happy end of July! Let's all just survive the next 31 days.

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Now playing: Clem Snide - Exercise

Trombone

I just think it's time to give up on ink. There were several failures preceding this, and in every case using my usual pen would've made it look better. So there you go.

Fake Posters

Sometimes I can't continue pretending that it wouldn't be the coolest thing in the world to work for Aesthetic Apparatus. I think I consider that my dream job.

[Don't show up at First Ave for this show. I made it up.]

[Sigh.]

A Dream of Flight

I'm trying to get more illustrative and move away from the purely fine art direction by working on my hand-lettering. This one would be for a short story about a young boy who wants to be an airline pilot but can't because of a crippling fear of the color green? Maybe?

Why I like watercolors

I'm looking for six that know about sound
Who promised to come back upside-down


I imagine this is somewhere on the north shore of Lake Superior.

With this image, by my count that makes 450 sketches, drawings, and paintings I've done since I heard Danny Gregory's talk at the HOW Conference in Atlanta on June 12 last year. That's far more than I ever expected. I feel very proud of myself that I've not only been able to stick with it this long, but am expanding my artistic repertoire with nearly every work I do these days. Thanks, Danny!