Saturday, February 24, 2018

Cartoons at the Junk Convention

Tink! Tink! Tink

Oh there he goes again!
His lap-bowl of belly moving like a mold of jello to every click and clack of his ancient mower engine tractor. The tired machine cranked its soul out carrying years of making America Great Again with a beer in one fist, and a Big Gulp gas station bargain soda, with whatever superhero is selling movie tickets this week slapped on the label to pinch out every last drip of novelty from the age-of-heros dead brand in the other. He scowled hard ahead with the look of a man whom has grown fat and comfortable in his overalls, assuming everyone around him owes him something. America, home of the free... free from English and Roman Tyranny at the cost of mowing down an indigenous people, though, to many here it meant: entitlement, Freedom, for me, myself, and I. Everyone paints the picture of theirselves as God when they are led to believe that is what they mean by being made in His image. But who am I to judge. His old iron mechanism clicked along, trudging him through the aisle. At one point he just stopped and died. The sun finally showing the old man the way to the light. It’s about time that thing did more than show us the cloy taste of humility; Trump needs to do something about that smug yellow bastard in the sky. The traffic stopped in the narrow alley. I watched from my stand, eating my fifteenth goddamn oatmeal bar hoping it wouldn’t taste so bad this time. For a moment everyone just waited. Flywheelers in Fort Meade Fl was a big swapmeet and tractor show that draws in hundreds of old timers from all over to trade their junk, and show off their turn of the century touching Tonka Toys... wait, nobody has those anymore? Well then good. I guess I belong here too, at the old man convention, the land of misfit toys, the can of cream corn nobody ever remembers buying. Anyway, out here it isn’t unusual to find a human stick in the spokes. Funny thing is the place is so big that almost nobody walks. It’s quite the site to see everyone riding on their merry shopping spree in their suped up golf carts, tractors, bath tub on wheels (this is based on a true story) and Triassic era machinery. All that was missing is someone using their cats to pull a sleigh. Though if it happened at Flywheelers I’d probably just wince for a fast moment before grabbing another damn oatmeal bar wishing it was a pint of whiskey. The old man was fine, by the way. He woke, rebooted, remembered where he was, and obnoxious clock ticked his old ass on to another lane, ssssslowly. 
The event was great though. I made beginners money drawing cartoons, everyone was pleasant, my neighbors were great, and I got me a lot of exercise. They have this fantastic old times village there. It’s really fun  riding around that area, and visiting the old chapel where you can still smell the acrid stench of burnt heretics from the weekend before. I’m just kidding, everyone was nice, and there was hardly no public executions. Surprisingly enough there was a lot of diversity. Everyone coming together for the love of combustion engines, unhealthy food, junk, and one guy looking for the Dunking Clown that was never there, god help us all. I saw a Trump/Pence flag waving over a sign that said “American Made Junk” and I half chortled, half cried, and all put in on this gas powered generator someone was selling for $150. I cannot say no to a deal. I had a fantastic time and drew some funny faces. Here are a few of those sketches. 




Thursday, February 22, 2018

King of Birds

#dinosaurs
#trex
Got in me the urge to rethink our favorite dinosaurs growing up. Mine was the T-Rex. She has a genealogy of over one hundred million years of existence, she was the biggest carnivore to ever walk the earth, and would have continued challenging the evolutionary food chain were it not for an extinction level event to lay her down low. We now believe she was extremely intelligent, she had razor sharp vision, and a powerfully keen sense for smell. And she was covered in hair and possibly feathers. Here is my drawing of her.



Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Black Panther Caricature

All Hail King T’Challa 
Marvel’s Black Panther is not only a great superhero movie, it redefines the genre, and it was incredibly inspiring for everyone I believe. Drew this caricature right after seeing it. Just loved that movie! Can’t wait for Infinity War



Saturday, February 17, 2018

Friday, February 16, 2018

My letter to Congress and my State’s Elected Officials

In wake of the Parkland shooting, growing up seeing countless similar massacres, remembering the trauma of Columbine when I was still in school, and now witnessing over 19 more in resent years, I was moved to write my senators in office. This is what I had to tell them.


We want stronger gun restrictions. We want better background checks, we want weapons of mass destruction (and at this point with all the damage they have done I do indeed consider tech like semi-automatic weapons and add-ons like Bump stock a part in that category) off the streets and out of kids hands. We want these weapons out of the reach of people with clear, obvious signs of mental illness, we want lobbyists in deep with money-pulling organizations like The NRA and their venomous influences out of our government. We want something done to prevent these massacres, and we want it now. We are coming for the voting booths. Many more than before. Do something to protect our kids, friends, and family, or get another job! 

Monday, February 12, 2018

A tale about a fabled GMC

I want to tell you a story about a mechanical companion I like to call The War Machine. I want to tell you about my GMC Sierra. 
I met her a time ago, when all hope was lost. I travel the country, traveling far, to treacherous lands, braving great tempests, and wild suburbs, dangerous drug infested middle of no where counties, and borderline bubble communities so distant from civilization their ideology about the world around them expands only as far as the college they are made to pursue for a path toward a better position in the meat factory that owns the town, to the other option which is working at the local Walmart. I draw caricatures in the carnival circuit, which is live cartoon portraits of patrons. And boy do I have some stories to tell about such a career, but those are not stories for now. This one is about a machine that had once seen better days before she met my lifestyle. 
Somewhere in Tornado Alley, in back country, in oil vile, where the population of cities and towns stays in the thousands, I had brought my $2000 beat’em up Volkswagen Jetta to meet the task of carrying my equipment with me as I followed a small carnival company across a no-man’s land that Stephen King would have killed Mad Max in. The car was only meant to take me from A to B, however at some point the alphabet was ate up by a vortex to another demension between those two letters, and B just kept getting further from my reach. 
One day, one fate-filled morning on a July 4th, on an early busy work day where I was suppose to get from my overpriced roach motel to my fair three miles away the car stopped working. And we were forced to walk. Some time ago before hand my laser cut key just kind of... fell apart, but I discovered that I could start the car by cranking the laser cut part in the ignition with a wrench. Anyhow, fast forward to the story, the car stopped fucking working on the worst day it could. We had to walk to work with our easels in 110 degree weather. That’s what it felt like at least. 
The problem could have been a million things, and I’m not all that mechanical savvy so I decided I’ll need help figuring out the mystery when the fair was done. Problem is nobody in this part of human civilization ever seen a Jetta, and this current predicament was met after having already dumped thousands of dollars for repairs into the damned thing. Basically, I was stuck with the great debate of Einstein’s Relativity because the fucking thing was quickly becoming a black hole for my bank account. I let my partner hitch a ride with the carnival unit we were working with to meet our next show on time, leaving me in the middle of nowhere with all the money I had in the world and no clue what I was going to do next. 
After having it towed and feeling like a stupid ass when the dumbstruck mechanic I sought out for help showed me that the problem was simply that the laser cut key couldn’t communicate to the severed computer chip inside, I got the thing running and drove 90 miles to get a new key made at the nearest Volkswagen dealership. It cost me $200 for the new key and it took them an hour to make. At this point I have officially spent over $7000 in repairs to keep this hunk of ticking time bomb from clocking out on me and leaving me stranded thousands of miles from my closest life line. I decided to go look at their used car lot whilst I wait. And there she was.
I saw a big ass dent in the side of it and I knew it was love at first sight. I bought that bitch, and headed back to town to get my shit. A deluge struck but it was no thang G, cause the beast was high off the ground: unlike the Jetta that has already left me stuck on a hill to wait for a flood to pass a time or two. 
When she was still pretty and clean, my partner in crime took her to pick up a blind date and had a nice time. When I got her back, I made a sharp turn and a box of supplies punched through the back window like paper. Me being cheap I taped up that shit with good ol gorilla tape. A year or so later, I came back to my car after watching one of the new Star Wars in theaters to find that someone knocked off my side mirror: it gets the gorilla tape. Another year, got into an argument with a dude over a parking space, he kicked in my turn light while I was working: it gets the gorilla tape, and still works. A year after that I come out after a grueling gig in Memphis Tennessee to discover that some crackhead had chosen my messy vehicle as his own personal treasure chest... too bad he didn’t have the right tools for the job: that’s what she said. I go to the driver side with a lingering headache, from my leisure drinking the night before, that morning I saw there was no keyhole, there was only... well there was only a hole. I paused, trying to retrace my steps from last night. “Did I really slam my door that hard?” Couldn’t remember. Fuck it! Went to try the other side. That’s when I saw what appeared as a bullet hole, this time underneath the handle. That’s when it hit me: it was about damn time. Someone tried to use the ol key to the city (crowbar) to get in. I was on the cusp of being enraged when I stepped back to find that it was in the passenger side door where the back window I literally had TAPED THE FUCK ON! So apparently gorilla tape is Crackhead proof. I started cracking up laughing. The cops thought I was insane. 
The door still worked so I never reported it to my insurance. But then, one year later, just last night, after completing a weekend gig in Lakeland Fl and wanting only to get a snack at Wendy’s and get the fuck on out of there before the city consumes my soul like that ship tried to do to Johnny Depp in Pirates of the What-ever-the-fuck my door closed for the last time. The latch just stopped latching. I was forced to ratchet strap the driver door to the passenger door to get to my next destination. And now, I’m just waiting for the next adventure with War Machine, the truck of Legends and Broken Dreams: get the gorilla tape!



Friday, February 9, 2018

News February 9

Here in Lakeland Florida to draw live caricatures at a small church carnival. So far its been an up hill struggle. Was banking on landing a campsite at this park only 37 minutes away, but it is first come first serve, and haven't had any luck catching them with vacancy just yet. So first night I worked out at the gym until 1 am, and then I tried sleeping in the back of my truck at the walmart parking lot. Ended up sitting up all night watching some dude get his car ripped apart after the police were called on suspicion of drug abuse. They pulled an OD from the vehicle, and quite a hefty find of meth, and a bunch of other shit. I got a front row seat to an episode of Cops sipping on some juice and wondering how the fuck I always end up in these weird situations.  "I picked a hell of a day to quite drinking..." Actually I've been one month completely sober on that note.

Anyhow, I'm doing this gig Raw-dick style, because I'm low on funds, and it is a rung to a major festival that I can't wait to get to. Ill be busy working my way to that, and finishing up a couple of mixed media commissions I started for a few close clients. Got me back in love with Adobe Photoshop and everything I can do now in the digital art world. Will be doing much, MUCH more digital drawing once I get some new equipment, and some money to buy what I need. In the coming weeks ill share some of what I have been working on in that department.

The new story I am writing is taking on a life of its own. Every new piece I drop into the universe begins a seed and grows into something big all on its own. Drawing up the characters, and finishing up the rough draft of the first section of the project. I want to complete the first quarter before the end of the year at least. Would be awesome If I could have a nice scary excerpt for y'all to read by Halloween, but I'm not yet holding my breath on that. What I have learned about writing is that it is an art that changes fast, and is as complicated sometimes as the human genome—thats an inside joke that only I really get, my bad. I have also began putting together a treatment for my historical fiction, and I am planning on going back and perhaps rebuilding that one. The original draft just got way too complex for the sort of story I had initially wanted to tell. I basically just have to rewrite it more simply, and more focused on the core characters and their emotional trials.

Ill be keeping the old blog regularly updated where ever I can catch a breath to spare on it, so hopefully I will have more material to throw up on here very soon. Take care, and stay Artsy, and Stop Hating, And... Pretend I wrote a clever revelation here at the end.