Various New Houses

Here are some more of those folding house-like things. The first one’s called Radio House and the second one’s called Henry’s House. And that’s it for today, I guess.

Low-Res

So these are some pretty fuzzy pictures of some of my project-things, which I’ve got like 1 more week to work on. Fortunately my degree, if I get it, won’t be in photography, ’cause no one should ever give me a degree in that. Anyway, the first piece is called Noisy Neighbor and the second one’s called Bawdy House, not that you can read the bawdy comments and whatever written all over it. Although I guess un-readableness was sort of the point for some reason. Meanwhile, I don’t know about you, but as I upload junk to Ziggy Stardust, I keep getting reminded how extremely heartbreaking the end of the American version of Life on Mars was…and not in the good way, either, but in the really bad way, like those couple of dozen of times some of us got dumped in high school, with like no warning whatsoever. Not that I don’t get it that they planted about ninety clues they were heading straight toward the Mars mission ending, but, jeez louise…I think I kind of on-purpose ignored the clues ’cause they seemed like really bright red herrings. Turned out they were fishy, all right, just not in the traditional misdirective way. Yikes.

Whatever, I still think it was a good show up until the last five minutes, and it was extra-nice for me ’cause my wife unexpectedly liked it, too, even though we have on occasion had heated discussions about the time travel on Lost, and how it works exactly. Anyhow, I guess that’s all I’ve got for now.

Bawdy House

Right now I’m working on a bunch of linocuts for a book project, which is one of the reasons I don’t have as much drawing time as I’d like. ‘Cause I for sure need to draw about 700 more drawings before I can get close to where I wanna get, wherever that is. But, it’ll be worth it if the book thing turns out halfway decent, which, of course, it may or may not do. Anyway, all I’ve got for today is a scan of the most recent block. I’ll maybe start printing everything a coupla weeks from now, or so I gigantically hope. Meanwhile, gotta go work on redoing my lame old website (the goal for that project is: fewer images, easier navigation, more consistent design, way simpler everything).

Ghost Book

I don’t actually have anything new to post (isn’t it nice to know that from the start?). Being empty-handed, of course, wasn’t the plan when I made all those resolutions a few weeks ago about how much more I was gonna draw in 2009. I guess my excuse is that school is all the sudden back in session, and so I’m doing a lot of math for some reason, instead of doodles of spacemen and famous lady bowlers and hungry dogs. Although, I’m supposed to also be working on actual art, too, like this thing down below, which is a page from a book that I sort of made with no plan whatsoever. It turned out about 1/3 okay and 2/3 just plain bewildering, but it gave me a big idea for something to do this semester, so that’s good. Meanwhile, I guess I manage, from time to time, to make art notes in the corners of class notes, mostly for projects I’m 98% sure will never see the light of day. Which is fine…the world could probably do without my fake folk art, considering how much of the real stuff there is. Anyhow, that’s all I know at the moment.

Except, I got some helpful feedback on my artist’s statement in class this morning, so now I think I know how to rewrite it. If I could get it all down to about 25 words, I’d be happy…as it is now, it’d put the reader to sleep in about 14 seconds, which makes it an effective-as-hell soporific, but not so much good for anything else. For sure I need to eliminate this dumb long list of influences I’d included, ’cause it’s just name-checking for no reason, and I never like that much when I see that kind of thing elsewhere. Anyway, our professor recommended keeping our statements to 3 paragraphs max, which sounds about right. I just wonder why writing is approximately 9 billion times harder than drawing, not that drawing’s all that easy for someone with weirdo eyesight like I’ve got.

A General History of Quadrupeds

I guess this is the final version of the Bewick book, or the Quadrupeds project, or whatever it’s called (pictures of the insides are somewhere way down below). In any case, the whole thing was a massive misdirection of time and energy (100% my fault), but at least now I know what kind of work not to bother with in the future. Instead, I’m just gonna work on cootie catchers and origami dinosaurs. And, also, my graphic novel about Bazooka Joe.

Old World

Anyway, so here’s the other half of that so-called ‘zine-like project I was talking about. And, yeah, I know I already posted one of these pages, but now it’s in context, assuming that matters at all, considering the shape the world’s in. Meanwhile, even though I’m supposedly studying for various CLEPs and also for a giant and frightening Algebra exam, I’m for some reason really stuck on reading The Grapes of Wrath. Like, there’s no pressing reason to do it…but, once you get past the turtle chapter, it turns out it’s a pretty ripping yarn (I mean, the turtle chapter’s okay, except it makes you wonder a little about when exactly the story’s gonna start). Anyhow, I just finished the scene with the one-eyed man at the junkyard, the one Tom and Al get a piston rod from. I love that guy, despite his general grossness, and wish he was in a spin-off book, ’cause he’s such a magnificent specimen of the classic American loser. I mean, he’s the exact same kind of person we have nowadays, too…somebody who’ll complain heartily about the current state of affairs, and yet will go ahead and vote for a candidate who offers nothing but more of the same b.s., just ’cause, I guess, those kind of people like to complain instead of doing something constructive, like voting for a candidate who’s whip-smart and decent and chock-full of youthful energy. Anyhow, I reckon that’s why I also love it when Tom gets annoyed with the one-eyed guy and tells him how he oughta just get an eyepatch and quit whining about how crappy his life is.

Otherwise, I’m totally looking forward to reading Sherman Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. My wife (who rocks, in case I haven’t mentioned it today) brought back a signed copy from the book festival they had here this weekend. I couldn’t go on account of the Algebra, but I’m glad she got to meet Mr. Alexie, who also rocks.

P.S. Don’t get me wrong: complaining about the current state of affairs is a perfectly understandable reaction to eight years of corruption, incompetence, and just all-around tom-foolery. But, you know, in a few weeks we have a chance to do something about it and change things for the better, so it’s a complete mystery to me why some folks keep clinging to the idea that some guy with nothing but old, outdated ideas is the way to go. ‘Cause he’s so not.

P.P.S Why, why do I even have to take Algebra, given my incredibly advanced case of senility?

No Spaceships Go

Forgot to mention, that “New World” book down below’s only the back half of the whole project. The other half’s one of the things I’m working on now. Still haven’t completely figured it out, even if it’s not overly complicated…mostly I’m just rearranging all the imagery into a messier, more chaotic sort of deal. But, whatever, just need to be done with it soon, ’cause there are other ideas I’d like to get on paper before long. Not necessarily big ideas, of course, since I only have those once a decade or so.

Petroglyphs

Yeah, I know, two of those book pages down below, I already posted ‘em last week, which is kind of a dumb thing to forget, but now they’re sort of in a type of context, such as it is. Meanwhile, I’m gonna leave the earlier ones alone as a mistake that’ll remind me to think before I post next time. Although I’ve really never tried that before, so we’ll see how it goes. Otherwise, this is a pretty crummy linocut, but it’s for the next bookish project, if I can figure it out, which as of now I’ve only partly done. But here’s what I think I’m doing, in a random way: like, I’m interested in games and game theories and alphabets and systems of symbols; and also interested in ritual objects and Zen gardens and all the complex rules for how information’s packaged, represented, and exchanged; and also in mandalas and rock art and X-ray pictures of kangaroos and fish, and in dream maps and magic formulas, like the ones in the Egyptian Book of Going Forth by Day. As if, you know, all that’s even usuable in the kind of low art I do. Mostly, I guess, it’s really all about the plain old fun of creating and then looking for a long time at various kinds of patterns. Which, I wish this one was a shirt…maybe it could restart a whole big disco shirt trend. Man, that’d be great.

New World

So I guess this is pretty much the layout for the so-called book I guess I’m working on, in-between other tasks and chores and whatnot. Although, I oughta mention, this thing, it’s not exactly a real book, instead it’s more of a ‘zine-like object, although who would want or need this particular ‘zine is a real good question. Also, it’s not even really a ‘zine, on account of how it doesn’t contain a longish confession of childhood misdemeanors or a cartoon illustrating the kinds of epiphanies people can have when watching leaves fall off of trees or a recipe for a weird kind of candy or any super-obscure music and book recommendations. Or, well, I mean, I reckon I can recommend uploading your files to the sound of Guitar Paradise of East Africa (Cardiac Records, 1991), and also, it’s fun to read The Crying of Lot 49 at the same time as you’re reading The Grapes of Wrath, though don’t ask my why I’m doing that, ’cause I don’t actually know.

Mysterious Zine

Here are another couple of pages from one of the several current book projects. Which, you know, I guess this one’s actually more of a fancy ‘zine, although I hope not too fancy, even if the staples I’m using are special handcrafted zinc ones imported from a thousand-year-old workshop in the Veneto. I mean, these are very subtle and excellent staples, but they meanwhile look cheap in a way better way than actual cheap staples. The only thing is, when you use ‘em, you do have to use one of those funky Ursa Minor “Novantanove” staplers, the kind that looks like the result of a drunken one-night-stand between a Michael Graves pepper mill and a Zaha Hadid Gyre chair. But, you know, it’s totally worth the rigamarole you have to go through to get one (I mean, don’t even ask, ’cause it was seriously an epic amount of rigamarole).