Our local antiques store had a huge treasure trove of vintage Native American themed toys and gifts this weekend. I realized that 1) I'd owned a lot of them and 2) none of my friends had. It never occurred to me that my collection was particularly large or unique. Doesn't every kid have a fixation on this country's indigenous population? Apparently not. I love the visual language of the Navajo and Hopi especially. My Kachina doll collection was the bomb.
I saw a man outside the library wearing a crown nestled into his cowboy hat. He was speaking swiftly, seemingly to himself, possibly freestyle rapping. Probably crazy. Then I drew some saints and stuff around him. I suspect he could use some assistance, perhaps spiritual.
I think Taco Bell Bear's mama might have drank a little too much Dew while he was in the womb. The theme of this page is "giant heads and the horrible birth experiences they yield."
Sometimes I just start throwing lines on top of lines. Today was such a day, fusing, intermingling, and vomiting lines up onto the page. (I originally titled this "Dreams in Digital" but then I was like "no one has heard Orgy's second album but you. Please abandon this late-1990s alt-rock persona. Live in the now.")
