ears

It always amazes me that, for such an icon of cinema, Boris Karloff’s Mummy only ever appears on screen, in his bandages, for just a few seconds; but maybe that’s part of the whole enigma and its longevity, and why perhaps the idea of imagining him in something new felt so appealing.

Qasaherim and Elvarelyn two of my female demon characters I have created years ago (especially the one on the right i created her when I was 10).one is a spiteful rebel the other is a domineering termagent,can you guess which one?Such old artwork dates back I think 2018?hence the notebook paper.i know uploading old art is stale and repetitive,today is probably the last day I will upload irrelevant junk.

I hope everyone had a fun,incredible time today because I certainly did!happy new years everyone!

I wanted to redo a simple drawing from 2011. I found it lying around the piles of paper that I swarmed myself with a decade ago. I like to think I've learned a bit more technique in these past years.

Candyborne: Reachez peak at 18 years old. Lifespan: 100 y. Other names: candy forms, sucrosian, Sub-Types: Chocolate, Hard-candy, Liquid,

"BUTTCHEEKS" The top bookmark is the genuine "Skav Art" piece which was done with a 0.18 technical pen on 110mm x 30mm off-cut card. The one below (the "bottom" one - Heheh!) was a deliberate copy I made of the first and, even though it looks neater, proved to me that those dreaded "processes" do start to creep in. The differences are slight, but they are there. Such processes can mount the further you go with them, until they totally erode the creative energy you originally had. So, it was good to do, even if it does mean I've now got two artworks with the same title!

Man, high school stuff rescued from the portfolio under my bed. Amazing to see how little I've progressed over the last 40+ years....c'est la vie.

Sigmund Freud (1856–1939) “I cannot imagine life without work as really comfortable,” Freud wrote to a friend in 1910. With his wife, Martha, to efficiently manage the household—she laid out Freud’s clothes, chose his handkerchiefs, and even put toothpaste on his toothbrush—the founder of psychoanalysis was able to maintain a single-minded devotion to his work throughout his long career. Freud’s long workdays were mitigated by two luxuries. First, there were his beloved cigars, which he smoked continually, going through as many as twenty a day from his mid-twenties until near the end of his life, despite several warnings from doctors and the increasingly dire health problems that dogged him throughout his later years. (When his seventeen-year-old nephew once refused a cigarette, Freud told him, From Daily rituals by Mason Currey #dailyrituals #inktober #sigmundFreud @masoncurrey

Gloomy Tuesday. https://www.instagram.com/p/Cb-U3dKrYK8/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Eyes and ears and mouth and nose...

102 years ago, another pandemic raged across the globe. My latest comic is all about what we can learn from the 1918 “Spanish Flu” (written by Sarah Mirk + Eleri Harris). Check out the rest of the story on The Nib! thenib.com/1918-spanish-flu

Rocks from Rooster's Wife by Russell Edson. Two old men were performing autopsies on each other.And as they worked, putting this in a glass jar and that in a chamber pot, they talked of rocks; arthritic rocks, and rockswith rotten teeth; rocks with gout, and rocks with bad stomachs; rocks with hair in their ears, and rocks withscrotums hanging to their knees; rocks with gall stones, and rocks blind with cataracts. Suddenly one of the old men says to the other, Did you know you were pregnant?No, says the other old man.Then holding up a rock, he says, Look what I found in your womb.Spank it, says the other old man, And see if it cries…

Part of my challenge to myself to sketch directly in ink this month, and to play around with using alcohol markers for value (a new tool in my arsenal).

So after 4 years I try again colored oilpainting..

Clio is a limited production, quite difficult to obtain, premium Spanish Red. I had the pleasure of visiting the vineyard many years ago and, while there, managed to take one photo of a particularly gnarly vine. This is at best only a very unreasonable facsimile.

Marginalias' character are starting to flesh out, even if I still don't have a story. These two are the princess (Who still doesn't have a name. Diana maybe?) a peryton and Ancelade, an atlas lion. They met when they were kid ( 9-10 for Ancelade, about fifteen for the princess). Ancelade was brought back from a war campaign by an old veteran knight who more or less adopted him and the Princess, when meeting a dirty, shivering lion cub, took him under her wing right away (quite literally, he used to fit under her wing, not anymore). (The joke, every time this episode is mentioned, is that Ancelade's adoptive father, while already having fathered children, had no idea how to care for a child and probably thought they were self cleaning). Once Ancelade properly cleaned up, the Princess discovered he was blond AND fluffy. Ten years later, she is still the only one allowed to touch his mane. Each think of the other as the brother or sister they don't have anymore. Even if everyone always ask them the same old question to which they answer in a mature and articulated way: Are you lovers?

Where do I begin with this one? This is a drawing of my dad and I; the picture was taken back in 2006, a happier time, I suppose. I don't commonly think about my dad, I don't necessarily think about how much I miss him or how I wish I could see him again, so it was odd for me to sit and look through old photos. I don't really know my dad; I do, but I don't. My dad was physically part of my life for 10 years, the second half of those were not the best. Mental illness, self medicating for years, debt, heroin, arguments, threats, uncertainty. I feel like I remember the negative more because I was older, my parents couldn't hide it from me like they used to. At the same time, when he was sober and stable, life was good. Life was great, things felt complete. So here I am, 6 years since he died. I don't want to say his image is fading, but I know less of who he was than I did before. I see the good from some (the ones who praise him, who act like he was a saint), and I see the bad from others (the one who felt the pain). I suppose I no longer see my view, my memories aren't there anymore. I don't necessarily feel sad, the anger has faded, and I can't say I'm happy. Maybe I'll figure it out one day, but, for now, it is what it is.

Various ads in a collage with mixed media

Some endoskeletons I made a while back. The one on the left is spring-safe, which means it can be openly used as a costume. The one on the right is not spring-safe, and has a much higher chance of springlock failure. If you aren't familiar with the concept, springlock failure is basically where, while wearing a suit such as one of these (which are typically inside of mascot suits), the metal parts and such which pull in while a human wears it jolt back into position (which are there so they can operate on stage without a human in them) and dig themselves into your flesh. This normally kills the person inside the suit. Don't worry, though! Not like this is likely to happen. You usually have a 50% chance or higher to live... or less. ;) Drawn with FireAlpaca.

Who is Gault ? See link : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzyJOln6GqE&t=935s

In 2017, I had a short run of finishing acrylic paintings after not painting for many years. Here I was pushing towards a more realistic style despite the very cheap and thin paints.

Keep Your Eyes on the Lamp Bearer. Don’t walk around aimlessly. Don’t leave your armor on your bed chamber’s floor. Keep your eyes and ears focused on Jesus. He is the lamp bearer, who illuminates the path you should travel. Don’t walk around aimlessly! Don’t leave your armor on your bedchamber’s floor. Specters are crouched in the shadows of the thicket that line your path. They plot to ambush you as soon as you wander aimlessly into the thicket. Keep your eyes and ears focused on Jesus. He is the lamp bearer, who illuminates the path you should travel. If you have walked into a fog and lost your focus, If you have walked aimlessly into the shadows the thicket If you find yourself in the clutches of the specters of the dark Don’t be anxious. Don’t lose hope. Humble yourself and call out to your commander. He will send in his angelic army to retrieve you To restore you back to the ranks of His army Don’t walk around aimlessly. Don’t leave your armor on your bedchamber’s floor! Keep your eyes and ears focused on Jesus. He is the lamp bearer, who illuminates the path you should travel. (December 3, 2016)

The guy who revived Jack, Dave, and Henry (DSaF 4 fan stuff) wears the Chica mascot suit, because he knew nobody else would wear it. Here he is, up on stage. Not while the pizzeria was open, of course --- the children would go nuts. He isn't wearing his mask he usually wears out-of-suit because it would be hard to keep the Chica head down. Uh, if you know what I mean. Two masks on at the same time = bad. Drawn with FireAlpaca. Also, the big says "Let's Cry", which is just for laughs. Something like that would work in a DSaF game.

Pencil Drawing

Just a random drawing. I have been into drawing tears lately, if you have noticed.

Today’s busy streak continued!

First sketch I did in the 20 years since leaving school. The beautiful Cenarth Waterfalls on the border between Ceredigion and Carmarthenshire, Wales.

Forgot to collar her collar gold but I guess black looks good too.she is a very talented,kind hearted, generous blue ghost who is also the co owner of the snazzy bar.she is older than Al (40 years old) and develops feelings for him later on they remain best friends instead.I guess you can say he friend zoned her,despite Al not knowing what being friend zoned is.He does date Ottalie this however does not make Alamea jealous.

Blame the sun for your fears of the dark….#Embracingnightmares

Many years back, I watched that documentary ‘The Boy Whose Skin Fell Off’ about a fellow called Jonny Kennedy who lived with the skin condition EB. There’s a bit in that film where he talks about what he hopes his afterlife would be like and, for whatever reason, a couple of coffees as I was re-reading the Wikipedia article about it triggered an idea I had to scribble down...