Med evil drawings

Upcoming square dance poster

Also this!

I remade the logo for a local traditional music organization I am on the board of. The old one was past its best by date. Plus this represents more folk instruments than just fiddle banjo and guitar.

Save the date!

Three Pages of a sketchbook.

Green with

Green with...

She is here again,

All birds and bees and 

Dicks drawn on yellow car windows.

Scabby knees and windy mornings

Rustling orange blooms,

In mohair grass.

The romantics ignore her dark side.

The one with the still-cold morning light,

The light and the chill have a better memory

Than even the trees in mid yawn.

Just stirring from near death.

Watching ice cream, mini skirts,

and sandals slink out of hibernation.

But this isn't about spring,

It's about sitting.

Sitting under a tree in the morning,

And wondering,

Whatever really changes?

Answers are eels between fingers.

Gut feelings need a home.

Their bed made for them,

Stories to be told to them.

Fuel for dreams.

That seems more manageable, 

Than sitting under a tree and waiting for spring.

Majestic creatures of bygone days

People

I think this might be Alexander graham bell..... I don't know...

In addition to doing art I am also a banjo player in an old time stringband. I had mentioned to one of my band mates while playing my favorite song that I pictured the tune as a weird loopy blue circle full of twistyness. Here is probably the only metaphysical representation of an old time song that ever was conceived....... And corresponding thumbnails . . . 

Art again

A lot has happened since my last post here. I have now become an art teacher at a middle school in a small Texas town and my free time and social life have been thoroughly carpet bombed. But now it's thanksgiving break and while my friends are all at work I can sit around and live life like I always wanted to.... Just painting all day for fun and getting paid for it. . .

These were conceived as posters for my band and the next one and thumbnails are based off of LHC particle collider data.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F6ZNZthSHx4

A laughing boy asks a favor of a laughing city,
perched in the crows nest
a husk of a house on a hill
this day this shall all be mine
100 years of future light
playing in the breezy black
of a southern summer night

A laughing boy asks a favor of a laughing city,
once he asked the same of the moon
except that was before the spring came
this is different, better even
when he asked the moon he was crying
the moon was, maybe laughing

A laughing boy asked a favor of a laughing city,
now he sees with smiles
(i'm)perfect but solid at least
i don't think the moon has ever actually fallen
and landed on anyone anyway.

he just has to say,
be good to me and
i'll be good to you

Amorous legumes offer no explanations.

There is a small morsel of fruit hanging in the air,
it takes stock of its surroundings, sniffs the morning dew
can time retain this viscosity forever?
i hope so.

We laugh --------------- or rather both laugh together

amorous
legumes
offer
no
explanations.

Solid-state time can only sublime
there are SO many grapes in this world

yet here sits he while away plays she
off on a spring-bird fancy

......something has broken down here
this poem is in - con      gruous

but something must happen
or nothing at all
or surely come down
will cradle and all

i have you, and me you have, you
or so it goes
but thankful i am for heaves and hos
and space between toes

even if loving beans act without thinking.

More lectures on black holes.

Ghosts of birds in morning trees
hide with love in a swarm of bees
thoughts of flowers overgrown
with trashcans and sno-cones
wishing once more to see the sun
snap bang the sound of a gun
discontent is the autumn of this wood
i am the spring
and i would if i could.

42

A hole in reality itself
Sweating darkness
Eating the very fabric of life
Where does it all go?
A craft appears,
glistening with hi-beams
crawling with small dancing crustaceans
An entire ecosystem of appreciation for all things small

How much light would it take to fill that hole?
A final question exhaled as the only remaining
memory of the craft that now wasn't.

It was the kind of darkness that space could only dream of.
Blackness itself kneeled and prayed before this unholy absence for forgiveness.
A universe of suns tried and faild to put a dent in the insatiable consumption.

How could one mortal vessle ever dream it could aspire to anything beyond
crushing darkness let alone filling some of the void?

Well, Occam's razor is a heavy tool when dissecting light.
To peel back the layers of a photon
And find the glowing seed of purpose
To reaveal the tiny beauty in everything tiny.
That a smudge of color glinting off a piece of trash in the road
can outweigh the nothingness of all the universe.

Light is finite.
Every star will die.
and blackness never fades.
But light finds a way to live on.
It lives and loves; reproduces and evolves
and continues despite.
Blackness never changes.

Thus the little craft tries to bury the darkness in a grave of light,
but will it be enough?

Tozepan

More flaming stuff

the beast awakens

A shining patch of buttery spring light illuminates the bear's left eye. Where once there could only be heard the low end rumbling of a beasts slumber, there emanates a lazy grumble. The eye opens with a start and the quarter sized pupils dilate in to focus on the bright light. He is AWAKE!

Yet another winter has been weathered and due to my not having been born at the turn of the TWENTIETH century i must keep up my internet presence. I have art and pictures and sketches to put up ... that require a good internet connection to upload.

more to come because i've been tired of waiting.

Done dun duhn. finito. terminado. fin.

Here is my submission for the latest Raw Paw magazine. The theme this time is dreams. I based it on a couple cool dreams i had but one in particular this one about swimming through dog soup. 

DREAMZZZ of dog souping and not recouping...

heres the two parts together. both are half finished there's going to be more stuff in the waters

dreamz pt.1

 halfway done

Say Please

Her feet rest firmly on the sky

While her shimmering digits

dance the work of millions

to an earthly beat

Don't forget this

Even when they bear down

with their sweet and

artificially flavored diversions

For you are sure to find

That they will clean and polish

and gnash their teeth

and banish your flame 

to eternal blandness

Always say 

please and thank you 

to her.

This was going to be for something, but now it's not. Actually this makes the first thing that i have finished just for fun in a long while. i may add some simple colors when i get the chance. 

The Ghost of Stephen Foster

Finito. Beneath is an alternate version that i still like despite the critics and naysayers. 

(You know who you are.)

Tag team.

My part is about done.

Keep on truckin'

More progress on the mural. I'm getting so close i can taste the latex. . . .  hmm thats weird..... but the detail stages are seeming to drag on as from far away it doesn't look like much is happening even after hours of outlining and highlighting. The writing alone has taken 5 hours. but i have to say it looks as crisp as bacon from afar. Also there is another 25% of the painting that got cut off in this pic.

Adieu but not goodbye

A sketchy de mi amigo Taylor in his cooking zen mode. (He leaves for packabacking in France today)

whiskey ghost paisley

i want this as a necktie.

WARNING: TOP SECRET.

Part of a top secret project in the works between the CIA and the KGB. . . .  i think i might be the KGB. The type in the middle will almost certainly be different and the drawings are still sketches . . . . but anyway. . . . this is a teaser of more to come.  . . . a whole portfolio in fact . . . . .

The midnight oil.

 Well here is the mural as it stands. Not counting my week and a half road trip adventure..... I have certainly put some hours into it but i am really happy with where it's going. It is amazing how freaking long it takes to even block in colors on a painting this big... i can work all night and it doesn't look like i've done that much. but all the work is not in vain... when it's done i hope for this to be the flagship of a new and revamped and re-branded fire-breathing whiskey-drinking rock 'n rollin'  portfolio complete with laser cannons.

Itsa comin alonga.

So the mural is starting to come along. I am drawing out everything on the wall to be painted.... monday.....tomorrow. Woah, tomorrow is monday. The lighting is really carp-y in my room especially now that i got a fish tank.

Oh you

Keep it going!!

More stuff to be in-corporealated into the mural. I'm feeling good! Da nananana na nuh.

Humble beginnings.

I'm starting work on Mural no. dos. it will be a sort of giant sized illustration of Shel Silverstein's poem Put Something In. i will add the text of the poem here later. but these are some preliminary drawings that i will project on to my classroom wall to and make super big and awesome. I'm still working on the octopus riding the brontosaurus and the gorilla riding in a pickup truck.