in progress - Coils

It has been a long and sober life, my 21st birthday came and went and I never took to alcohol or spirits. 38 years clean and sober. And, I create some really strange stuff.
I just happen to like my brain chemistry the way it is.

Seriously, don't call his mother that...

Quick little sketch of Warpeace of the Planeteers.

Who is better than you?

My son took a nasty fall last night after swimming in the pool, blood everywhere (if it was directly beneath his nose). I was drying him off, had him wrapped up like a boy-burrito so he was tight and drying with no use of hands or legs. Then masterful toad that I am, I tried to put his shoes on. TIMBER! He fell over, that was funny, we both thought so. He was laughing. He was not laughing the second time when his face hit the stucco post and his face did 90 degrees from his neck and he left a blood and flesh trail on the post.
So I end up carrying this small boy wrapped up like a limp body wrapped up like a body wrapped up in a carpet like you see in the movies, but you know... wrapped up? And, he is bleeding like a stuck pig from his face while his head flops around on my shoulder blood and wailing coming from his mouth.
Somewhere in here is my explanation as to why I do not have a new piece of art for you to spend 12 seconds looking at before you hit some other link. I know my excuse is lame but it is all I have. You may think you are better than me, I don't care. I know you are not. You and Adolf Hitler are flat out wrong and I don't mind telling you that.

The world is not good or bad. It is just what it is. The glass is not half full or half empty, it just has water in it. Reality is just your perception, your perspective, and from second to second unless you plan on being paralyzed from a severed spinal cord and never move a centimeter again in your life, your view or perception/perspective will change. What you think will change, your stupid little problems and personality clashes with others you feel superior to will change if you allow that to happen.
Even things set in stone get worn down by water, wind or erosion. Nothing is worth being a jerk about.
My son is fine. His nose stopped bleeding after I got him a handful of cotton balls and he held them there, and the scratches on his nose will heal. His neck went back to it's original alignment pointing north/up.

Like always, this ink thing is just a sketch or a test, and it is a bit rushed and just exists for me to someday come back and make "better." Doing this stuff in ink sometimes does not work out as I planned or meant, where as in oil paint I can sweep all the mistakes away and make myself happy. SO I make these to show me...
I scanned this in and see that I need to put in a shade about the eye ball for depth, not that the flat coils do much. Something in oil I can correct with deeper shades of red to emphasis the shape. You can build with layers in oil, ink you get a big mess if youtry to lay layers down too late.
This goes with the last sketches monday and friday.

What!?

Yeah, sorry. it was P. Waff's first day of kindergarten yesterday and so my brain has been a little busy lately, plus one of my co-worker's came to work with gun so we all here are a little on-edge as to avoiding him without avoiding him, if you know what we mean.
...
Wait, I made a typo. My co-worker came to work with gum.
I hate gum. I hate the way it smells and I hate the way it looks when you are talking to the person and you see it in their mouth, like going to lunch with a person that refuses to eat their food with their mouth shut.
My son is totally against people talking with food in their mouth. He says they will choke and die.
I kind of believe him, he knows stuff.
He is in kindergarten.

Back of the Egg -in progress

You ever wonder what kind of background goes behind a floating egg?

Well, now you know.
Kind of looks like a nest to me, but what do I know.

Be yourself

"Be yourself. Everyone else is taken." -Oscar Wilde

I decided subjection to my son's (obviously beautiful to me) quick-while-Dada-is-in-the bathroom scrawls would be fine for me and myself, shining the light on a up-and-coming artisté and doing my part to brightening the world that is a joy with knowing art is not dead and controlled by corporations or commitees,.. See, that is all fine for me. But, I decided at the last minute that I owe you more.

This here is a sketch that I am working on this exact moment (with understanding that at this moment I am posting it on the web, so after this EXACT moment or later I will be working on it more).
Later, alligators.

Ink Child

I left the room to go to the bathroom. I came back to a very proud child that felt he was helping me.
Things temper-wise could have gone a lot worse but like I said yesterday, I did not have a lot invested yet in this with the inks ripping the paper apart and being so splotchy. I told him thank you but that I wanted to do this by myself just like he likes doing some things by himself, and that he did a good job.

I mean, look at where the arrow I put in points to, those look pretty close to what I was doing and in fact, leads me to consider starting over with a more sketchy loose approximation of the people in the crowd.
Thanks to my son for helping me.
I still think I am going to have to place my pens and ink higher through out of his reach. He was asking what the bottle of black india ink was as I sat looking at his quick handy work.

Tomorrow, more of what he did while I took a bathroom break and left him alone in my art studio.