Zombie + Stone

A quick little pic of a zombie in the kitchen...

And a quick little caricature of Sharon Stone from Casino...

Ôbayashi and Kurosawa

I did a couple caricatures for the Caricaturama 3000. This past week was a tribute to Japan. If you haven't donated anything yet and are looking to do so you can always donate $10 by texting "REDCROSS" to 90999.

My choices were Akira Kurosawa and Nobuhiko Ôbayashi. Two great Japanese directors. If you aren't familiar with them check out Seven Samurai and House. Ôbayashi is a little less well known than Kurosawa and a little more experimental. Check out the trailer for House here.

CS Open and An Old Bed

This week we have my scene from the good ole CS Open (Round 1), which I couldn't get to until just before the deadline) and a T-Shirt design I did a while back that I never really finished (I'd love to water color it at some point though).

In this scene we were given a prompt:

Your PROTAGONIST and his or her LOVE INTEREST are at odds. One of the protagonist’s schemes has gone terribly awry, and the love interest has had it. Write a scene in which they have it out – but in an unconventional way. Their words seem measured and reasonable; but the subtext says another thing entirely. You may use additional characters other than the ones specified.

So I tried to marinate it in subtext.

Bro and Pops

Well its been over a month since I've thrown a couple things up here (a long month for other reasons than the lack of blog posts) and I thought I would just throw a couple things up to well, have a little more substance (literally, not figuratively).

Let's see, what to throw up. OK how about a couple caricatures of my bro and pops.

Smoke and Monsters

I found some old t-shirt design art.

The first is a piece I did for a shirt called, "Secondhand Ghosts".

The second one here is an early concept sketch. The idea for the shirt was to either have the entire shirt filled with monsters and have one lone boy making his stand with an axe, or to have most of the shirt black except the boy and the monsters close enough to reflect some of a mysterious axe glow.

Pencil and Reciept

So apparently it takes me 13 days of Ghost Dick to go through a Dixon Ticonderoga HB 2. Refer to my earlier blog titled Pencil and McFlurry. Notice I got the 3¢ student discount this time.

...and yes. I buy my pencils one at a time.

 By the way. I got the McFlurry. It was good.

Site n Site

Today. We have my photography site. And my Artworx site. Both are with wix dot com.

www.wix.com/scenetk421/seanleonardphotography

The photog site has just a small sample of my work in no particular order.

www.wix.com/scenetk421/artworx

Artwox is a work in progress. There was no rhyme or reason I used to put the pieces I did in the gallery.

Enjoy!

Ghost Dick and The Caribbean

Today a Ghost Dick exclusive (check the daily Fantasmagorical blogcomic out here: http://ghostdick.blogspot.com/) and a warning from a talking skull.

"Psst! Avast there! It be too late to alter course, mateys... and there be plundering pirates lurking in every cove, waitin' to board. Sit closer together, and keep your ruddy hands inboard. That be the best way to repel boarders. And mark well me words, mateys... dead men tell no tales! Ye come seekin' adventure and salty ol' pirates, aye? Sure ye come to the proper place. But keep a weather eye open, mates, and hold on tight, with both hands if you please... there be squalls ahead, and Davey Jones waiting for them what don't obey... "

-Talking Skull

Bigfoot and FU

Today we have some old T-Shirt designs. Bigfoot VS. Scientist and FU. Enjoy!

For years scientists have said that Sasquatch does not exist. They ask, "Why haven't we found any of their skeletons or carcasses?" "Where is the concrete evidence?" "Where is the proof?"

But he does exist. And he is pissed off! He is tired of people saying he isn't real... and he has been watching too much WWE.

So now Bigfoot himself has marched right into the lab and is giving the scientist the proof he has been constantly asking for... in the form of his new signature finisher: The Elbow Drop.

And the FU shirt. There were quite a few different ideas on this one. I posted them below. I am still quite found of the "N" idea. Maybe I will do that one up later.

 

 A couple ideas here in the 

beginning stages.

My later idea of putting an "N" on the back.

So instead of saying FU it actually says FUN

if you see it from all sides.

-------- & ---------- ---

--- -- -- ----- - --- -- ---- ---- - -- - ------ -- - --- ---- -- ------- -- ----- --- ---- -- -- --- - ----- -- --- ----- --- ---- - ----------- -------- --- ----- --- -- - -- ----- --- ------ --- ----- -- -----...

The Ninja Mouse has stolen today's post...

A Pretty Girl and a Robot

Let's see here.

How 'bout some more art.

Today a Markette sketch of a famous pretty girl and a watercolor painting of the star of my old comic book Robot with a Monkey Arm.

Golden Hearts and Spiderwebs

Another double dose of caricatures today. Maybe soon we (the royal we) will have some writing to wash those pictures down with. But until then, gaze on the musical glory of Neil Young and Gwen Stefani.

 

Natalie and Buster

Caricatures of the beautiful black swan, Ms. Portman and the comedy Legend Buster Keaton.

Enjoy!

Pencil and McFlurry

Today I offer up a pencil I got from the great Carter Sexton and a McFlurry card I got for being rowdy. I'll leave deciphering which is which to you.

Minute and the 'Man

Today I went to a taping of Minute to Win it (yes I am that much of a dork). Saw two girls win a total of $375,000. Guy Fieri is a cool dude, he took a picture of me and Twittered it. Check it out here: http://twitter.com/chefguyfieri.

And here is the picture:

Check me out four rows up and the second person in. The one with the pink tie and a goofy smile.

Here for our something else is another caricature. Christopher Reeve as Supe. He is the image my mind conjurs when ever I think of the Krypton Kid. Every time.

A Quote and A Caricature

Today.
A quote from George R. R. Martin.
A caricature of a famous person.
Enjoy.

"The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real... for a moment at least... that long magic moment before we wake. Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end. Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smoke-stacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot. Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest airlines. Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?

We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the song the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever, somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.

They can keep their heaven. When I die, I'd sooner go to Middle Earth."

-George R. R. Martin

Tim Burton

Ghost Dick and Blogspot

This day we have a little more of Ghost Dick. Go here to view the comic: http://ghostdick.blogspot.com
And some crappy concept art for the blogspot. Check him out here: http://ghostdick.blogspot.com

 Here we have an enchanted bowling ball, Ghost Dick, and an evil briefcase.

And here we have the blogspot, in all his round glory.

George R. R. Martin and Ghost Dick

Today we have my autographed copy of A Game of Thrones and my new web-comic: Ghost Dick.

I went to Vroman's and got a couple signatures from R. R. himself. Thanks Heidi, for telling me about this and then taking me to it. He didn't disappoint in his appearance. Still in the suspenders and beard, still wearing his epic hat.  ...and he made fun of Twilight too.

AND NOW one of the strips from my BRAND SPANKIN' NEW web comic: Ghost Dick!
Check it out at http://ghostdick.blogspot.com/.  This isn't its permanent home. It doesn't have a permanent home yet, heck it doesn't have a permanent anything yet. But check it out anyway.
Here is a little of its flavor.

Caricature and Caricature

Today 2 caricatures. Of 2 directors.

The Werewolf and The Wizard

And for this post we have a writing prompt and an old hobo wizard picture.

Writing Prompt 5.18: Start with hard science-fiction, 
move to werewolf romance.    From Writing Excuses

 

Hobo Wizard

(Draw many years ago when I was working at

Arclight in the box office. Drew it on the back

of one of the ticket wrappers.) A ballpoint pen.

Weird and Prompt

Today I have a weird guy for ya. And another writing prompt.


Writing Prompt 5.17: You are walking down a back alley,
and you meet Jason from DragonMount. He’s getting
all uppity about how good his submission was. What
do you do to him?

A Prompt Walk Down a Back Alley ...with Jason from DragonMount

I like to walk down alleys. Especially while I'm trying to think about something to write. They're very inspirational. Dark and rough and... Who was this guy? Some dude standing on an apple box wearing a tux. Whose bow-tie wasn't tied very tight and kind of sagged. I thought he looked familiar, but he had his nose turned up, so I couldn't be sure.

“Do I know you?” I asked him.

“Probably not by sight.”

“You look familiar.”

“Its probably the cadence to how I talk,” he said.

“But you hadn't even started talking until after I asked if I knew you.”

“Do you read?”

“Yes.”

“Do you listen to Writing Excuses?”

“YES.”

“...”

“Wait, are you Jason?”

“From DragonMount”

“So this is... the prompt?”

“Yeah.”

“So this is you being all uppity?”

“Yeah.”

“Good job with the no-eye-contact and the acting as if you're tossing your sentences from the heavens.”

“Thank you.”

“Weird, I thought-- well anyway nice to meet you.”

“And...”

“What and?”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Huh?... Oh, right... um... hmmm”

“Come on man, I have my nose in the air, we're in the back alley, do you have any idea how many people I have to meet tonight in similar alleys to have all sorts of things done to me?”

“How many?”

“Things or alleys?”

“People.”

“Quite a bit.”

“How many exactly?”

“I don't know exactly. The exact count isn't the point... but there's more than you think.”

“OK, well what do you think I should do?”

“To me? Really? You want me to come up with your ending for you?”

“Who says its the ending?”

“I do.”

“Well don't get so uppity about it.”

“...”

“Oh right. Nice job... Alright, I have a great idea on what to do to you.” I pointed. “Stand on that.”

That was a set of these short rods set in the wall. Wooden stumps hammered in-between the rocks. For what, I had no idea, but there were five of them. Set up in an odd pattern, kind of like a Pachinko machine.

“Which one?”

“The one on the top.”

He climbed up. Through much difficulty. I don't know if it was because he refused to lower his nose for the climb, or if he just wasn't an “outdoor activities” kid, but it took him a about five minutes to finally get up there. And of course when he did he popped his chest out. Proud.

I promptly shoved him.

His arms spun in a big flourish of clumsiness. Then his left leg slipped out and hit one of the pegs below. He kind of saved himself in lunge position for a second, but then his other leg went the other way. He banged his shins. Wobbled. Then steadied himself and stood.

“Was that it?” He asked me.

“Yes.”

“What was the point of that?”

“I knocked you down a few pegs.”

“Oh snap.”

“Nice sub', by the way.” Why did I say it?

His smile returned, that stupid half smile. With his nose literally in the air. He stood as straight as that silly tie sagged. But now he was restored to the height of his uppity-ness. Ready for whatever somebody was going to do to him next.

• • • • •

Title used in a sentence: "She was weird and prompt."

Dialogue and Dialog

Today two "dialogue only" stories.

From Brandon Sanderson's writing exercise. Which was: Write a two-character dialogue with no tags or blocking. Try to evoke character, conflict, and plot using only dialogue. Include: a problem, two distinct individuals, a fantasy/sf element. Avoid: long monologues, exposition. Use context, not explanations.

The Syfter

“What is that?”

“What?”

“That.”

“Oh... that's nothing.”

“That is nothing?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you stupid?”

“No.”

“Then you know its a Siftyr.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, that!”

“I thought you meant the toaster.”

“No, the Siftyr.”

“Well, if you know what it is, why are you asking me 'what is that'?”

“Sorry, I didn't mean 'what is that'. What I meant was: Why, under the Breath of Thought, would you, or anyone with half a head, have that just lying there, next to your chair? With a sandwich on top of it.”

“I found it.”

“You found it? Where?”

“In the fridge.”

“No. The Reaver. The Siftyr. Where did you get it?”

“Goodwill.”

“Oh right, I forgot about the 'Mindbendingly Rare & Evil Contraptions section' in the back next to the brik-a-brak. Well, grab your sandwhich, I'm going to destroy it. The Siftyr I mean, not the sandwich.”

“Wait.”

“Do you know what it does?

“It looks kinda like a space thing, a Buck Rogers future-that-never-was device of some sort, but it has these wires and the jars and its got that metal plate that says 'Siftyr' on it...? So, no.”

“That, my dear damned friend, is a Soul Harvestor. It sucks souls out of bodies. And stuffs them into little jars. Then it sucks all the water out of your body and scatters you to nothing. Well, close to nothing anyway... And you see the sweat on the thing? That's people residue. That's reminents of soul juice. And its seeping into your sandwich.”

“So, what do I do?”

“Well first move the sandwich, and then if you want to suck yer own soul out, make it all neat and travel-sized, press that little blue button with the ghost thing on it. I will be running and screaming.”

“I don't think that's what I want.”

“Well then move. I have to smash it.”

“You're fucking with me, right?”

“No.”

“You are. You're just fucking with me.”

“I promise I am not fucking with you. Now move.”

“Stop. I don't want it smashed.”

“Move.”

“No. I like it.”

“Its evil. It takes souls at the touch of a button.”

“I don't believe you. I think its pretty.”

“It rips the living essence from you, and then turns you to dust.”

“I'm going to turn it on.”

“What?!”

“I'm going to turn it on.”

“Oh, there I go saying 'what' again when what I meant was: Please, under the Breath of Thought, don't turn the thing on. It will do very bad things to us. It is not meant for this world. It should be broken past any hope of repair. Let me break it.”

“One.”

“Don't do it. It will Reave you. You cannot begin to think this is a good idea. Come on. Don't do it. There is no point.”

“Two.”

“Why would you gamble, not only the life and body you know and the experiences that live in your future, but also that bit of you that is everlasting? Your eternal bit. The thing you share with the universe. Your soul. Throwing such a gift on the chopman's block, just to see if you can pull it back in time, or to see if just maybe he's got a foam axe. Disgusting. If you press that button and I happen to be wrong, remind me to never take you to Vegas.”

“Three.”

“...”

“...”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“.............weird....”

“Ooooooohh...”

“...Ahhhhh.”

“AAAAaaaaaarrrrrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...”

“Ahh ahhh ahh ahhh ooooaa aghh aghh aaaghh...”

“Whaaaaaaaaaaattttttttthhhhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh...”

“Hhhhhhhhhhoooooolllly Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittttt!!!!!”

“--oh fuck-- --oh fuck-- --oh fuck-- ”

“Aahhhhhhrrrrr..”

“...”

“What a waste of a sandwich.”

Pray Tell

“Dear God. Well, as you must know I have some stuff going on--”

“What kinda stuff?”

“I do believe I said, 'Dear God'.”

“And what am I?

“Not.”

“But I am an Angel.”

“And?”

“You don't believe me?”

“Oh, I believe you sure. I don't think you made those wings. I don't think that you are some creep that dresses up in a spectacular angel costume and sneaks into girls' bedrooms at night.”

“So fill me in. Let me get a word to Big Pop.”

“Well, when I pray isn't that talking directly to Him?”

“Uh, yeah, technically.”

“So, why would I talk to you to talk to Him, when I can just talk to Him?.”

“Maybe I can help with something.”

“Nah, I don't think so.”

“Why?”

“You don't get it.”

“How do you know? You didn't even tell me what's going on.”

“You're an angel right?”

“Yup.”

“So you don't know what its like to be human. I'm sure you could give some bang-up angel advice with all the know how and ins and outs and such, but these issues I have are human issues, deep and mortal. Bloody even. It would be like a monkey asking for beaver advice.”

“Hmmm”

“And there, not even a hint of a smile. You didn't even think of a vagina did you?”

“What?”

“Beavers, sometimes we call vaginas bevears.”

“I know that.”

“But your mind didn't automatically go there. Mine did. I thought of a monkey and a vagina talking. Or maybe a monkey asking advice on vaginas.”

“Hmm. I see what you mean.”

“Yeah.”

“But that doens't mean I can't help. I can provide a perspecitve you would never be able to see from. Just like that monkey. He could provide some excellent perspective to that little vagina.”

“Haaahahaahhahahahahaaaahhhahaaa... 'little'?”

“I was thinking comparatively to the monkey... Did you know that a lot of people would do some interesting things just to talk to an angel?”

“Yeah, well I don't have to do anything and I can talk to God.”

“But not in person.”

“...touché.”

“OK then, lay it on me. What stuff do you have going on?”

“Well, first of all, I can't stop.”