I Met a Turtle

"Oh God, it's allowing bad things to happen, by simply doing nothing!"

Click to Enlarge

I tend to assume that every time I meet somebody’s pet, the two of us are likely to break the human/animal communication barrier and become fast friends. The owners will gape in amazement as their normally suspicious pets flock towards me, and with the reverence of saints, drop to their knees and bow. Then I will laugh like the Buddha and scruff their jolly heads. It’s a fine system.

However, a new reality has recently established itself. Even though the Buddha thing still works for the most part, now there is a 1 in 10 chance that instead of bowing and scruffing, the animal in question will instead choose to violently murder me.

And so it was with Clemente, who attempted to swim towards my throat and lacerate my jugular vein but was stopped short by the fact that he was trapped in an aquarium. However, he continued to tread water menacingly, and never broke eye contact, and I began to realize that he was studying me. Watching and waiting. Understanding my movements. Hoping against hope that I say my address out loud, so that his full plan can truly metastasize.

But I was careful, and no harm fell to me. But I did learn a bit about Clemente, and made this comic as a reminder that no matter how cute an animal is, there is a small chance that it will bite your fingers off if you give it half a chance.

SCORE: The safety of living under a sheltered roof, away from most turtles.

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A Tale of Two Kitties

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With my foster cat Phoenix getting adopted tomorrow, it seemed like a good opportunity to record his interactions with his sister for posterity. This scene was was a part of my daily life for a while, wherein a genetically bonded pair of cats constantly rediscovered the same simple way of not getting along over and over again. Phoenix, you never won her over, but I have to admire your determination.

SCORE: A string, wiggled, and everything is better.

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IRONMANATEE

But... where did it get this technology?

I love the ongoing Twitter show that is #Sketch_Dailies, but I tend not to participate because my so-called “sketches” turn into hours-long feats of endurance which usually end up missing the deadline and don’t turn out very good anyway.  But today’s topic was so irresistible that I managed to churn this out in a couple of hours, which is still not quite a “sketch,” perhaps, but really, all the artists who say “Here’s a quick sketch I did,” and then post an outrageously detailed painting are LIARS. It was not “quick,” you scheming devils. It took you a whole dang while and you know it.

But whatever, painting is fun, and I daresay it’s more fun now that I’m out of school.

SCORE: One manatee spiraling out of control, into the stratosphere.

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I Graduated Art School, Thank the Gods.

Hello Art Blog!

I have graduated from art school! Though you wouldn’t know it from reading this blog, I have been busy drawing and writing, and mostly not sharing my work with the world in any way, because what kind of artist would do something so narcissistic?

Oh… I’m being told that that is something that successful artists do all the time. And something  unsuccessful artists also do all the time. And that sharing your work is a cornerstone of being any kind of artist at all. Well, shoot.

Okay, fine then, here’s a thing I made from all the way last year:

True Scenes from History

Click for larger version!

And in the interest of actually posting some stuff about art on my art blog, and not just whatever weird ramblings pop into my head at the moment, I’m going to share the drawings that helped get me to this final composition!

Here is the original sketchbook drawing from which I based this composition.

My Sketchbook is normal. No, YOU shut up.

It’s fun to see it again because there are so many elements I wasn’t able to fit into the final composition. Perhaps a better artist could’ve found a way, or perhaps there is another painting in my future that can include the all-important “T-Rex carried away by a UFO,” and “floating squid” motifs. Also ships and oil wells, apparently.

Next comes the phase when I try and take some of these elements and create a more pleasing composition. However, this is essentially a blind panic, as you can see by the almost inscrutable scribblings that follow.

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It’s almost impossible to look at these now and see them as being helpful to the process, but they were probably the most important part. Trial and error, yo.

Finally, I worked out three versions that all seemed to have merit, and I stared at them for like, days.

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When that didn’t help, I went to Facebook and asked people which ones they liked, and received a surprising number of well-reasoned opinions, but the one that finally convinced me came from a scientist, so to sum up, the creative process is completely baffling, and this image is 100% scientifically accurate.

SCORE: Two Paleozoic Eras, one Cretaceous Period, and a waffle.

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Happy Halloween! This Came Out Scarier Than I Thought It Would

Screen Shot 2014-10-16 at 1.04.29 PM

On the Epidemic of Clowns

Everyone has seen a clown at one time or another. I bet you remember exactly what you were doing the first time you saw a clown biting a squirrel’s head off. Or carrying a soiled sack across a frighteninglly busy street. Perhaps, on an occasion such as this, the clown was even hit by a speeding car and then tumbled like a rag doll for several dozen feet before lying motionless on the ground for a period of time. Oh, but these are such specific incidences. “Dear writer,” you are no doubt thinking, “I have certainly seen a clown decapitate a squirrel, for who hasn’t! But I certainly have never stricken a clown with my own vehicle whilst driving about town.”

Yet incidences such as these continue to appear with frightening regularity. If the case of the clown crossing the street with a ruddy sack sounds far-fetched, think twice! This exact problem has becomee a common occurrence in every community. In all cases, the clown will rise up again unharmed —and many witnesses say that at this stage the the clown will  lack the iris and pupil of the eye, but this is unverifiable as yet— and will approach the vehicle that hit them. It is a very bad situation for the driver, who will invariably scream at once, fixed in their seat as the clown approaches, and go completely insane. In a great many cases, the victim’s eyes will melt as well, which is a genuinely alarming circumstance.

The simple truth is that there are more clowns than there used to be. There was once a time when a person could grow from infancy to adulthood without ever so much as seeing a clown with their own eyes. One might hear of clowns in the newspapers, but only in the major cities, and only when a clown committed some terrifying act of supernatural violence beyond the usual. Those days are long behind us. Though it is often said that “a clown is best left alone,” the unfortunate truth is that there are so many these days that it is impossible to avoid running into them.

Too many mothers allow for the old guidelines of the past, in which children may walk or play alone outside, free from the constant and ever-present danger of a clown possessing their mind and taking over their actions. In the old days, this was a sensible method for maintaining public order. There were so few clowns back then that a boy or girl had a reasonable chance of growing up without ever feeling their body and mind give way to such terrifying forces. Those days are long behind us.

Of course, dear reader, I don’t mean to create a panic. Nobody likes to talk about clowns (or even think of them). That you have made it this far makes you more intrepid than most, so it is up to you to affect change! There is no problem that mankind faces –even that of clowns– that cannot be surmounted with science and common sense.

First: The most obvious. Mothers, don’t allow your children outside unattended. Because it is well-known that clowns prey on children more heartily than on adults — and with greater relish— children should be blindfolded at all times while outside and led everywhere by your hand alone. It may seem an inconvenience to walk your child to and from school each day, and to restrict their activities to the in-doors at every occasion, but think of what you are saving yourself from! When —not if— a clown’s hand comes lashing out of the gutter or from under a vehicle to grip your child by the ankle, you can rest assured that the terror he feels will not last the lifetime that it otherwise would have had your child been completely aware. Nor will the eyes melt out of his or her head; a blessed mercy to spare a child this fate!

If you require another reason to keep your children inside and away from the clown menace, let us think of something more practical. As we all know, the rise of the disappearance of children has a direct correspondence with the rise of the clown population. Though as yet we do not understand the direct cause-and-effect of the process, we have all seen clowns wander away and out of sight with eyeless children stumbling along behind them, and we can assume that these children have lost all agency. It is not unreasonable to infer that the children thus led away are in some process made to become clowns themselves, or else serve as some sort of catalyst for their reproduction which has no known human correspondence. In any case, where children wander away in their thrall, more clowns inevitably return.

Because no one has ever killed a clown successfully, nor has one ever been seen to die of natural causes, it is imperative that we act with all haste to prevent their ranks from growing! Yet every piece of opinion that I encounter on the subject speaks to the same sentiment: Clowns are not real. That it is better not to think of them at all, lest they steal your breath and allow your teeth fall out of your head in one moment, or that that your skin and sinews will at once deteriorate. That speaking publicly about the clown menace is just cause for swift and terrible persecution.

To these voices I say that this is old advice for a bygone era. It is always difficult to change with the times, but change must be had, especially where clowns are concerned. While it is certainly true that many of us grown adults will surely die of fright, the shivers, the red parasites, common stab wounds, or other clown-based maladies too numerous to count, it can be said with surety: None of our corpses will feed the clowns as the children’s will.

In this way, we may be sure that the already untenable number of predatory clowns does not grow larger, though we may be sure it will not shrink in our lifetimes. The children must grow up with sound morals and be ready to endure adult lives that —as we all know— are nothing if not utterly terrifying.

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Krang Roast

Smells like chicken!

In my usual habit of being about a month behind everything, it seems as good a time as any to post this Ninja Turtles-themed entry. I didn’t see the new Michael Bay-produced TMNT movie because:

1. The turtles looked weird.

2. The preview was cut in such a way that I didn’t trust the film not to suck. And…

3. Not enough Krang.

If there was ever a character more deserving of the Hollywood special effects treatment, I don’t know who it is. I can just picture his horrifying latex countenance, dripping mucus everywhere as his piercing black eyes reflect back only a hint of the awareness that he is situated in the cavernous hollowed-out torso of the most preposterously conceived mechanical man-suit humanly imaginable.

Until this glorious day is realized, here is a dumb drawing of Krang’s ambulatory man-suit-thing happily disobeying orders.

SCORE: Two boneless drumsticks

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Zelda Comics 04

zelda_04

This one is for anyone who played through Ocarina of Time and stumbled into a genuinely shocking moment.

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