The cat in this doodle is inspired by "The Beast" from a cartoon that ran when I was a kid. The abstract mushrooms are a slight deviation from my usual botanical abstracts.
So I had this idea for a series; fun, whimsical paintings of pet rocks. Full of personality, sweet, make you laugh, that kind of vibe. First one I draw is this. I was so horrified by it I haven't drawn another one since. I'm not kidding; I'm actually quite upset to discover I can't draw "sweet". Or maybe it was a bad day.
Another inspired drawing by the national thing of the day, today is Croissant Day. Part of the sandwich bag art I started in 2008 when I began drawing on my kids sandwich bags.
Inspired by the national thing of the day, today is Puzzle Day. Part of the sandwich bag art I started in 2008 when I began drawing on my kids sandwich bags.
PSA to not be a dick to retail workers this holiday season (and all seasons!). Working retail during the holidays was some of my shittiest experiences. People become coupon-waving, red-faced monsters that deserve nothing but a trip into Krampus’ sack.
Here are a few things to remember:
1: They have literally no authority. Honestly, the cashier would love nothing more than to accept a stack of expired coupons to get some cranky-ass customer indignantly insisting that “at this point YOU owe ME money!” through the line. But they can’t. And no amount of screaming will change that. Oh, and the manager is bunkered safely in the back refusing to come out and will only troubleshoot through walkie.
2: If you’re nice (like basic human decency) they are more inclined to help you as much as they are able. Being kind and patient costs nothing and might actually pay off. You might even be able to coax out a skiddish manager that *sometimes* has the magic touch to get things accomplished.
3: Corporate overlords. Managers can do a lot but in the end, the retail world is run from corporate overlords through the machine sentries AKA registers. Welcome to Black Mirror, people. If the machine rejects your request then back to the matrix with you.
55 mins
“I Never Noticed The House Was On Fire” This is a painting for an upcoming group exhibition about memories. When I was a kid I grew up in a household where my parents were functioning alcoholics. They gave me toys, put me in front of the tv, and sent me outside to play to keep me distracted from what was going on. When I look back almost all of my childhood memories revolve around these things. I became obsessed with these imaginary worlds and I learned to draw by copying my favorite cartoons and characters from children’s books. It was not until I was much older, that the truth could no longer be hidden from me. The imaginary world of cartoons and books kept me shielded from the harsh realities of home. As I grew into an adult that form of coping grew with me as I created my own imaginary places inspired by the ones I loved as a child. A healthy place to escape.
I visited my 6 year old's class las week to talk about what I do. They each made a little drawing and I got to put it tougher into this super fun pattern.
Watercolors and fineliners on Aquarelle, 300 GSM. Fantasy has always appealed to me ever since I was a kid, and I often find myself lost and wandering around in the fantastical world of "could've been's"
I had a rock tumbler as a child and really enjoyed it. When my youngest was a child we bought her one. She was eager to enjoy it too, but somewhere after starting on that path, we lost track and it everything inside turned into a solid mass. We tossed it and forgot about it. On a recent beach trip, I collected handfuls of rocks, as I am always likely to do, and, upon return, remembered how I loved my childhood rock tumbler. I immediately researched, ordered and eagerly anticipated its delivery. Of course, with Amazon Prime, that was only a couple day’s wait. As soon as I unboxed it I thought “what am I doing?” I have neither time, nor space for yet another hobby. I thought “what will I DO with a pile of polished, pretty rocks?” I would gather them in my hands and feel their silky smoothness. I would likely gather them in some beautiful glass bowl and…then what? I have toddler grand kids frequently at my home. They put small colorful things in their mouths and up their noses and feed them to the dogs regularly. And I don’t even have a single space to display a bog bowl of pretty rocks. So I quickly decided “I’m Returning the Rock Tumbler” and will, for NOW, stick to painting them when the mood strikes.
