This week's drawings

I've been working on using my dip pen and creating from my imagination instead of photographs. There's a delicate balance between going fast enough to have interesting, sketchy lines and going slow enough to think about composition and form. I've yet to find that balance. The dance of artistic discovery continues.

Jesus & Peter.

Los que viven al lado de la plancha morirán por la plancha. (Those who live by the bodyslam shall die by the bodyslam.)

The role of Peter will be played in this case by a lucha libre lawyer. Both of these are part of my collection of small figurines on a shelf at work. The Jesus figurine is also part of my ever-growing collection of Jesus chotchkies. I figure if people feel okay making them then I feel okay mocking them.

Ink drawings again.

I got a new ink pen over the weekend in an effort to bring my drawing skills anywhere in the range of Dave McKean. I really like the new range of line quality I can get, but I still have a ways to go with my actual drawing skills, especially as it pertains to people. Then it's a matter of incorporating paint/collage/whatever, then ???, then profits!

Morgan Grimes.

I like the show "Chuck". It's a guilty pleasure. Morgan is my favorite. He's been having a rough time lately.

And while we're here, let me update my top ten favorite albums of all time. I did my top 50 a couple years ago, and there were some egregious errors. So I redid my top ten. Again, this is favorite, not best. A best list would look very different.

10. Redlight by the Slackers
The only ska to make the list, this is the best ska album ever. It just is. I think we can all agree on this.

9. Hello Rockview by Less Than Jake
That's because I don't count this as ska. LTJ makes me feel like I have to get out of the Iron Range if it kills me. Oh yeah, I did get out of the Iron Range. Oh double yeah, I was never there to begin with. Phew.

8. Fashion Nugget by Cake
Audry gave me this album because she didn't want it. It became the soundtrack to my stoner days. We're getting to the point in the list where almost no songs are duds anymore.

7. Something to Write Home About by the Get Up Kids
Besides the glaring grammatical error, this album is great all the way through. "I'm a Loner Dottie, A Rebel" is still the best song on here. They all remind me of the way things never were, if that makes any sense.

6. OK Computer by Radiohead
This would be at the very top of the best list. It blew my mind when I first heard it, and the subsequent 20,000 listens we all put in between 1997 and now. Don't act like you didn't try to figure out what the words meant. We all did.

5. Electro-Shock Blues by Eels
It's difficult for me to describe why I love this album so much. Part of me thinks it's the repeated listenings, but mostly I think it's because I know this is the soundtrack for anything devastating that might happen in the future. It's too bad they couldn't take out "Baby Genius". Then this would be the perfect album.

4. Parklife by Blur
Numbers two through four on this list are all up for debate. I'm actually a little surprised I put this at four. Honestly it should be at three, considering that this was the soundtrack to at least three years of my life. I can probably also blame this album for 10-15% of my snarkiness. Thanks, guys!

3. The Earth Is Not a Cold Dead Place by Explosions in the Sky
Wow. This totally effing destroys. No matter how often I listen to this, three things are true: 1. I listen to every single second from start to finish, 2. my life feels insanely epic, and 3. I would totally step outside for a smoke afterward if I still smoked. You really need to do yourself a favor and hear this before you die.

2. Downward Is Heavenward by Hum
When I started thinking of what I wanted my novel to be about, this was my starting point. I didn't think of characters or plot, I thought that I wanted this to be the soundtrack if it ever got made into a movie. A strange way to go about things, I know, but this is so atmospheric and rocking that it's impossible to deny.

1. Weezer (Blue Album) by Weezer
As if it could be anything else. Never has an album been more significant to me, never has an album had so high a strong/weak song ratio (10:0, if you care to know), never has an album rocked so hard. This is probably going to be at the top of the list until I die. I can't see anyone unseating them.

What do you think?

Ruch Holley Branch

The Pikes Peak Library District ranks 9th among those serving a population over 500,000. I'd say that ranking is well deserved. Their facilities and resources are well above average. Not above average is the Jeep that pulled into this picture halfway through. I learned a tough lesson about urban sketching. (Move faster.)

I use the library mostly for movies, I'm afraid. That's not for lack of reading. Anyone who's seen my stack of books at home knows I read plenty. I just happen to own a lot of books that I have yet to read, and so I don't much need the library for that purpose. Also, reading thick books in three weeks can turn it into a chore rather than a pleasure.

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.

Grandma Bonnie

An enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a lifeless, tiny Minnesota town.

Uncle Don

He was the mayor of Grenada, MN for a long time. He was widowed by Aunt Shirley last December. It's easy to like the guy, but only in small doses. After a while your eyes glaze over.

With my basement torn up and no space to paint, I figured it's time to get back to drawing. I'm a little rusty.

Jealousy and fatalism

I've been reading War and Peace for what seems like an eternity. One of the things I've noticed (because it'd be impossible not to) is Tolstoy's insistence that "great men" of history haven't really controlled the course of history. He says it's the collective spirit of many that controls things. And while I think he may go a little overboard with his historic fatalism, it's interesting to view this year's presidential election in such a light. The more I think about it, the less power I think the president has. We can all blame Bush for the war in Iraq, sure. That's the exception. But this current financial crisis wasn't his doing. It was the collective will of Wall Street execs, legislators, and homeowners that did it.

Likewise, how much difference (apart from declaring another unilateral war on Iran) could the next president make? Aren't we, the collective masses, the real holders of power? Shouldn't we affect the zeitgeist to some degree? I think so. So while Obama is sliding away from his policy of change, while I don't trust McCain now that he's so obviously in the neocons' pocket, while Palin is leading by several lengths in the People Who Should Never Have Power Derby, I don't think the world will fall apart on November 5th. It's a nice feeling.

I am lost.

Adrift, suspended in a primordial soup of stylistic globules. Forced by my own ambition to strain away what disappoints and unwaveringly accept what remains. Running dangerously low on coffee.

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Now playing: Mogwai - Kids Will Be Skeletons

Middle Relief!

Kung fu yells lose a lot in translation.

Two for the show

My wife needs three 8x8 frames filled for her classroom. Inspirational canines will be the theme. The other two will read, "Listen up, you little turds," and "You're not as special as your mom says you are." It's going to be so great.


It's a little fun, no? (You know, aside from looking a little too much like Danny Gregory's work.)

Unrelatedly, I really really hate summer. When you break into a sweat while eating, that's too hot. When your neighbors all have loud motorcycles and like to drive away at 1 am, that's not cool. When the crazies and the yellers and the fireworks come out into the street at all hours, I start to twitch. I'm hating summer more and more each day. And we're about to plunge headlong into August. Guh.

Turner

It was only eleven days, but it felt like forever. There were a couple points where I just plain forgot what my process normally was. I think the work benefited from this, however. It feels really good to get back to what I love to do.

Vic Ruggiero

I got a few minutes on Thursday to rock this out.

Flickr face practice

Last night at c-group ($20 word for Bible study) someone posed the question: If I was convinced God didn't exist, would I be drastically different?

At first I said, "OF COURSE!" I wouldn't have my current job, or likely live in Colorado, or be married. And I'd probably be an alcoholic and denying it. Big changes. But would I be much different? The more I thought about it, the less I thought I'd be a different person. My life would be drastically altered, but I don't think my personality would be. I'd still be a smartypants, still be artistically inclined, still refuse to believe that I kind of look down on a large portion of society. Maybe it's my insistence on the implications of environment. But in that case, why hasn't living surrounded by Christians affected me more? I don't know, it's something to think about.

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Now playing: Explosions In The Sky - First Breath After Coma

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?

Yesterday

Yesterday was slow at work so I took a couple hours to do some book design research at Borders. It made me feel smug and superior to see all the horrible design mistakes. (To be fair, I was in the self-help business section.) It really also helped to get the yeasty artistic secretions going. Good stuff all the way around.


Around here we (I) call it bloodfire.

Flowers

Are these daffodils? Or daisies? Wikipedia was no help.

Too cool for school

It's summertime, y'allz. For me, that means cowering in the shade during the day, living it up in the evening. There really is nothing like a cool summer evening after a blisteringly hot day. It smells different. (And for me, "blisteringly hot" is anything above, say, 80 F. I'm Norse, there's nothing I can do about this.)

I found a picture of this guy months ago and always knew I wanted to do it right. The rest of the picture of him cruising in his sensible sedan, pretty hard core if you ask me. So no, it's not me.

A busy weekend.

Maybe I've found a signature style?


This girl was making a silly face in the picture from which I copied. I didn't intend it to look so dark, but I think it pops.


"How could it have taken me so long so realize that pen drawings and sloppy watercolors are meant for each other?"

This might be the drawing I point to when my subconscious screams about a white background. Not diggin' it as much as extending that yellow.


I replaced my typical Russian lit classic with a sketchbook this time. My wife thinks this is proof that I could do a children's book. I'm secretly inclined to agree.