More Ammo

Same as yesterday, only with more ammo. I'm breaking in a new Hunt 106, it's an awkward stage. The nib doesn't know if you're right or left handed, what kind of paper you prefer.... all the same things that make first dates a pain. Patience!

The Future

One from week before last, I think. I'm once again pushing my movie idea involving females in their underwear, packing big guns, fighting what ever in some kind of environment (does it really matter?), oh- and wearing gloves. Box office gold. I'm using a softer #2 pencil and it's causing me to be a little conservative in my approach. Your patience is appreciated!

The Sum of All Fears

From May of '03, apparently. My wife is appalled at the self-portraits I make, she sees them as a form of self-flagellation, or some such piffle. I don't see them as self portraits .... I'm just exploring familiar landmarks without running the risk of offending someone. An old friend of mine once drew my portrait while I was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and eating out of a bag of popcorn. He made me look like Jackie Gleason, for God's sake! But I realized he wasn't trying to make a likeness, just taking pleasure in drawing textures, shapes, toe hair, etc. Then again, maybe he was just trying to piss me off.

On Second Thought ...

I got off of work early today, so I penned this especially for you and yours on this holiday. Happy Thanksgiving everyone! P.S. I broke my favorite pen nib as I was rounding the "Q" on my initials, so thanks alot everybody! How I've suffered for the sin of pride!

Hand Study

Another study from '03. I was doing some large paintings and drawings of hands and this is one of the sketches I'd done for one of them. I think this is where I started using black prismacolor as a substitute for a pencil. Astounding but true!

Robut Trouble

An oldie from an '03 sketchbook. Speaking of sketchy, sorry about the hap-hazard schedule of late. I'm having to scan new material in as needed and it's testing my resolve! Onward!

Posture Counts

I'm planning on collecting these sketches of violin students and giving them to my son's violin teacher as a gift. I'm thoughtful that way. I'll admit I'm a little resentful of the pressure of having to do a good job when I'm sketching these, knowing they'll belong to someone else! Ironically, our teacher spends most of her time correcting bad posture, and I find the most interesting poses to draw, (naturally) demonstrate atrocious posture. I was quite pleased with the wrinkles in the clothing on the figure on the right .... how do I do it?!

Rubber-Devil Lives!

Around 03 or 04, my old Kubert School buddy, John Patterson wanted me to contribute a back-up story to a comic he was self publishing. He wanted a character named Rubber-Devil with the abilities of a Stretch Armstrong doll. A character who couldn't necessarily stretch like Plastic Man, but could be stretched by just about anything. These were his only guidelines, the rest was up to me. I had fun.
I was able to finish one story completely, another was finished to tight pencils and the last never got past lay-outs before the publisher fell through. Above is an example of a wide panel I was trying to figure out.

If This Be My Destiny

Drawn while imagining the occasion of my 35th anniversary with the company. HB pencil and a smidgen of pessimism.

Another Midori

Another violin-playin' rascal .... this one happens to be related to me. I've really got to shift my position at these group classes and draw these kids at different angles!

Suzuki Wunderkind

Another pen sketch on toned paper, snatched at an open violin class for youngsters. Lots of baggy t-shirts with little legs .... y'know, like the rest of the country!

Last of the "Fun" Wars

Another sketch that started with nothing but the urge to draw. I started with the helmet and developed from there. Can anyone guess where it ended?

Well, I never!

Result of an urge to draw with no particular place to go.

Glenn, patron saint of hangovers

In the early 90's, when we lived in Chicago, a friend of ours bar tended at a Scottish pub on Clark street close to Diversey. It became like a second home. I developed a deep love of bitters and stouts, and a fearful respect of single malt scotch. My wife would call the pub first if she didn't know where I was.
Eventually our bartender friend decided to move back to Missouri, so our small group of friends had a final hurrah at the pub on his last night on duty. It was a blur of excessive drinking. I drank way past the point where I was mindful of the consequences.
Then a miracle happened- I awoke the next morning fine! In fact, I helped our friend load up his truck and I was in a pretty good mood! How could this be? I should've been hospitalized! The only reasonable explanation, of course, is that some supernatural force intervened.
I wish I knew what prompts his appearance, as I've been saved precious few times since!

Queazy Piano

From the last Suzuki violin class. Our girl with the skirt and boots is now levitating and a grand piano appears to suffer water damage.