Wickee-Go

Time in life for experiments. Nibs and watercolors. Working on it, trying to get better. Yesterday, I said brock what should I draw? He said, whatever you want. So then I asked again more forcefully and so he said birds attacking man. There's also a nice birthday postcard for one certain Kesley which was the first experiment really. I want also to show now some of the great accomplishments of a group draw that occurred while I was visiting in the Bay recently. Behold.

Very sophisticated.

diddles from the notebook

It's necessary to draw sometimes when a scientist slowly shows you slides of poorly designed sidewalks and says obvious things aloud.

So what I lied so what

John's 30th bday portrait:
Well-intended/poorly-attended Atlanta street fair:

Old man bores me at brown bag lunch- food march passes time as does russian handwriting practice and creative reinterpretation of boring talk as tattoo:


Atlanta reveals mystifying secrets to me. Real job, curvy roads, trees, MARTA, racism, deep fried food stuffs, visiting friends, kudzu, salt water pool, puli dogs, roseanne barr saves my soul, explosions, humidity, drivein movies, booze, weed, partying all night long, distance, heartache, Waffle House, Vietnamese sandwiches, Buford Highway, Chamblee, new kindsa punks, college kids, Virginia Highlands, environmental health, bbqs, palmetto bugs, cubicles, cut off shorts, 4 out of 5 personal appearance, picking a new line of work every week (social worker? environmental assessor? lead poisoned baby saver? map maker? lord help me), hot hot bike rides, mosquitoes be the devil, inconveniently timed plane rides, then some fresh new hell. It's been a hell ride. All emotions all the time. Can't wait for normal. Hope normal still exists. Somewhere. Sometime.


Having a couple months out of nightmare school chaos has allowed me to look at it and see-- that was OK and useful. I think I can do that again for another year. But, girl, that was shit was hard. And the other kids like to act like it's easy. Part of the game I suppose. Not my game! I think my victories in the working world this summer have made me more confident, so hopefully this year I'll be able to just come out and say it--This is too much damned work and stress! I hate you forever. Maybe that will make it more manageable. Less scrambling I think is possible.


I'm listening to Brock's latest album. It's powerful good. Unreleased as of yet. It's going to make all the babies cry, I suspect.

Stay tuned!

Let this sidewalk dong serve as a warning to you all. I intend to be putting things here this summer while I'm in Atlanta interning at a government agency (it's one that does exciting things with industry and toxic sludge but somehow it doesn't seem clever to name it here). I'm very happy to not be in school for a few months and have some time to reflect on everything I've been through, learned about, etc. And also hopefully to scan some of the ridiculous doodles I've make, read books for pleasure, write/draw, you know, be a real person.

There's much to do here. There's been several acts of vandalism perpetrated upon famous works of art by lunatics since I've last been updating. Piss Christ was the last one! It was some badly behaved Christians. I'll get on that right away.

Sow of Violence: A Malibu Scene Report

Misunderstanding Andy's Simple Instructions

But it's cool. We got golden dongs across America out of it. And anonymous bathroom hijinks.

censorship

The most dangerous beast ever

If I was going to sleep at the park and I didn't want the security guard to kick me out, I would disguise myself as this animal. A snake with one giant arm that will punch you in the face forever till you're dead. So would Ariel and Paul.

Who you gonna call?

Scare Him Erect

If any of you have ever slept in a room with Mattt Monster you know about his terrible condition. It's like bunking with Linda Blair if ya know what I mean. He suffers from sleep insanity. Screaming, kicking, maniacal laughter--the works. It's really sad. Tina has to wrap him up real good so he doesn't hurt himself and others. The above is a medical illustration of him with his equipment: Head cone, straight jacket, and a ball gag.
These two buddies are the result of team work between Shayna, Alexis, and myself last week during our artist retreat in San Diego. While I was doing this I was NOT working devotedly and without interruption on my map-making midterm project for school and it subsequently sucked a fat one. We make sacrifices for art. Can you find the penid?

I'm soooo busy with school but I have many drawings to put here. It will be a project for spring break. After Cancun of course.

That reminds me of an oldie but a goodie. One from the vaults (psst it's true story about John S):