Crayons and cahiers.

America's Got Ennui.

Not even Hasselhoff can save summer television programming.

Photoshop as a crutch.

Photography purists will tell you that while Photoshop may be handy in slightly tweaking photographs, it is in no way a replacement for good composition and thoughtful photography. I tend to agree, but only to a point. I say, if Photoshop isn't supposed to be a crutch, then why'd they make it work so much like a crutch? Face it, photog elitists. Your glory day in the hot sun is over. If you want to remain relevant, then do something we can't do with a little software knowhow. It is possible to do good photog work still. Just stop griping about how camera raw makes it too easy.

(Sorry. I didn't mean to make this sound so harsh. It's basically my justification for tweaking the crap out of my photos without feeling guilty about it.)

Juxtaposition

I dig the effects of putting two unrelated inkies next to each other. The one on the left is Sasha digging into her Christmas present from Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory. The one on the right is a road in Missouri. They have nothing in common except shared experience.

Hey, what was your favorite Brett Favre moment? Mine was when he threw up a horrendous interception to Corey Webster in overtime of the NFC Championship Game last year. His last throw ever will be one that haunts him for the rest of his days. Every time he drops back in his Wrangler jeans in a wheat field with his buddies, he'll be replaying that moment in his mind. That makes me smile. As a person I wish him nothing but the best. As a football fan, I'll see him in hell.

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Now playing: Reinbert de Leeuw - Trois Gymnopédies: No.1

Morning sketches

5:17 am - Sasha wakes me up before my alarm.

6:00 am - Extra time for shower.

6:28 am - Easily scraped frost on the windshield this morning. Score.

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.

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.)

Sasha, again.

A funny story.

Last night I'm laying on my couch, watching some crime drama centering around dead hookers. I don't remember which one. CSI? Medium? Criminal Minds? Can anyone distinguish between them anymore? Poor hookers, always gettin' killed all the time. Anyway, my dog Sasha comes up and sets her front paws on the couch, looking for attention. I oblige, scratching her back. She loves that, apparently that's where the itches always are. You can tell when you hit the spot because she sticks her nose straight out as far as it will go and halfway shuts her eyes, sort of as a way to say, "Oh yeah, right there. That's the money." So I'm scratching her back and I hit the spot, no doubt. She is lovin every second of it. So much so, in fact, that she lets out a long, low squeaker. I can't convey how funny this was, but the timing could not possibly have been any better. So I'm busting a gut, but there's more. Sasha has this thing where she's surprised every time she farts. So while I'm almost crying from laughing so hard, she's looking around to see where that noise came from, getting a good whiff of her own brand. I just about died. It was too funny.

Unrelatedly, I did this: