Friday, July 31, 2009

Jan Svankmajer is simply better than you.

An interesting look at the man whose impact is sorely unappreciated on
this side of the side of the pond. Violent, horrifying, and beautiful. What I
look for in art and in women. A true surrealist and a giant among men. Bow
down and kiss the pinky ring boys.

Amusement Park disasters

Hippie scum!

I want your skull

So as I try to remember the simple bliss of sketching I thought I would post up my ink scribbles so we could all laugh at my blind bumblings. I'm trying to keep it loose and organic, like hippie cooch.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Scribbles and bits


Last night as sleep took the guise of Bin Laden I began to realize that I haven't drawn in years. As an artist that seems illogical as my work is spawned from the razor sharp tip of a micron, carefully scratched onto a porous surface. But that it seems, is but a means to an end. Idea's must take form and the pen seems the most direct route. But the simple bliss of sketching, the endless spirals of doodles cascading across the page has been forgotten by this dodgy old coot.
Well, no more I say. Today I picked up a number two pencil with one of those triangular erasers perched upon the tip. The kind that I use to convert into space ships as a lad, complete with crumbled paper flames and pew-pew laser sound effects. With trepidation I proceeded, fearing I had forgotten the ways of this wooden sword. But plunge forth I did and so begins a new phase of this sad little blog. So suckle upon the breast of my artist genius my little ones! This old cow has one or two shakes left in him.