just got some notes on this rom my buddy, plenty of work to do yet.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
bumped my head.
new vector piece.far from finished.
not the background i am going to use, just put it in there as a point of reference.
hope y'all dig it.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
new vector
new vector piece i'm working on from an original prisma marker drawing i did about 3 years ago.
textures to be added in photoshop after completion.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
bang bang, you're dead, hole in your head.
so, i am innocently sitting in my apartment, listening to the raccoons in the walls chewing their way through the insulation, playing cod4, when, at about 1205 am, bang, bang, bang bang, bang, pause, then, bang.
big caliber shots, loud as a cannon, not a block from my house.
and here it is, 1235, and finally the police sirens are wailing.
before that, though, about thirteen car alarms went off simultaneously.
so, if you get shot in my neighborhood, it may be awhile before the cops show up.
now, does anyone know if you can buy kevlar vests on ebay?
big caliber shots, loud as a cannon, not a block from my house.
and here it is, 1235, and finally the police sirens are wailing.
before that, though, about thirteen car alarms went off simultaneously.
so, if you get shot in my neighborhood, it may be awhile before the cops show up.
now, does anyone know if you can buy kevlar vests on ebay?
tribute
a sketch of the hulk i did a short time ago.an homage to both the late great jack kirby and frank miller.
hulk smash.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
texturizer
did you know you can create your own textures in photoshop?
it's simple.
open the image you want as a texture in photoshop, set the mode to grayscale, and save it as a photoshop file.
open the image you want to apply the texture to, go to the filter menu, and under the textures tab go to texturizer.
aplly your save texture and you can select options like scale, relief, and light source.
i figured this out on my own, because i am awesome.
boom, cornrow demon samurai is born from the fires of technology.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
ghost bar-dog part one
“so, are you saying i'm scared?”
“um, yes. Or, since i know you are a word nerd, i could say you are namby-pamby, a weakling, cowardly, a limp-wristed nancy boy, yellow belly scardey cat, candy-ass sissy, apron string tugging pussy, mamma's boy with...”
“okay, jesus, i get you. Now, are you guys coming in with me?”
“yeah, fuck no. listen, ron and i will be right here, with the nextels, so if you pee yourself or are crippled in fear or stub your toe on a skull or find one-eyed-willy's treasure or something, we will come in and get you. The offer still stands, 300 bucks and a half barrel of molson, if you go in there and check out every nook and cranny, leave no stone unturned, you know, look around.”
“you got a flashlight?”
“yeah, of course.”
“either of you have a weapon i could bring in with me?”
“no, what do i look like? Huh? An armenian arms dealer? Oh wait, i left my combat shotgun back at our apartment. So no, we don't have any weapons to offer. Here, take this stick in with you. Look, it's kinda sharp at one end, charlie bronson. Just go in, for christs' sake, i'm freezing my boys off out here. Ron, start the car, i bet you this fairy doesn't last 3 minutes in there.”
“all right, all right, i'm going. Fucking asshole.”
where we are- 50 miles from bumblefuck nowhere. Like, if bumblefuck USA had a backwoods halfbred cousin, we were there. It took us 4 hours to drive here, it might have taken less time if we all weren't so drunk. My roomate jason was at the laundromat last week and found himself in a conversation with 2 junkies about urban legends. He was evidently sitting there innocently sketching a picture of bela lugosi as dracula and this one junkie plops down beside him, and being that jason will talk to anyone, they strike up a convo. One thing leads to another, they are drinking grape soda and chit chatting about the junkie's plight, you know, living with HIV, and jason asks these two butt pumpers if they know any really fucked up stories, like, shit they have seen. The second junkie comes over, plants a big wet kiss on the other junkie, and stares right into jason's eyes.
“wanna hear sometin real fucked up, huh?”
jason, of course, did.
“before me and marcus here got together, well, i was a bit of a party boy. Anywhere there was hot ass and designer drugs, ya could find me. So one weekend i gots invited to this high roller's place way out in the woods. Me and some of my boys drive all the way out there, it's sometin like 3 hours away, and we pull up this long ass driveway, the tree line parts and this fucking glorious mansion is unveiled. We get out and go in and let me tell you, sodom had nothing on this party. Drugs and fucking and goats and latex and screaming and blood and, well, you get the picture. Most fucked up weekend of my life.”
jason was not impressed.
“so, you went to some rich freak's sex party? Wow, how eyes wide shut.”
“you didn't let me finish. Way's i heard it, some time later, like 2 years or some shit, bad shit happened at that place. Big fire, like 45 people died. When the fire department finally got there, nothing left but burnt latex and melted whirring fist dildos.”
“okay, yeah, you have my attention.”
“here's the spooky part. The guy who owned the house, well he was a bit of a recluse. Besides the heroin butt parties, he kept to himself, hording drugs and cash. A treasure to be had. They say it's all still there, in a fire proof safe in the basement, just waiting to be snatched up by some brave soul.”
jason was intrigued.
“well, why didn't anyone who knew this shit was there just go in and crack the safe, you know, steal that shit?”
the junkie leaned in closer.
“that house be haunted, sweetheart.”
jason laughed.
“yeah, okay.”
“no. for real. Ghosts, baby, ghosts. Screaming in pain. Besides that, the fucko that owned the house had a dog kennel in the back, he bred pit bulls. They say them dogs still living out there, in the woods around that house. And, that bear country. Big brown bears, crazy, bloodthirsty bears, fuck you up, toots.”
jason couldn't let it go. He tore a sheet of sketch paper from his notebook and handed it to him.
“make me a map. There's twenty bucks in it for you. We'll see about these ghosts and bears and feral pit bulls.”
the junkie's directions were frighteningly accurate. We pulled up the driveway and through the moon laced trees we could see the remnants of the mansion. We sat in the car for a minute and burnt a j, thought things over. It was decided i would go in, for 300 hundred bucks from jason's student loan check and a half barrel of molson ron would steal from the beer distributor he worked for.
I clicked on the flashlight and started for the crumbling front door.
“i swear if you guys fuck with me, and leave me out here, murder is the least of your worries.”
jason was digging in his coat pocket.
“wait, wait, here, take my digital camera in with you. I have to see this shit, but from out here, you know, at a safe distance.”
i shook my head, snatched the camera and climbed the blackened front staircase to the sprawling front porch. I looked back at jason and ron, standing there smoking cigarettes, and jason waved his hand, ushering me in. I took the doorknob in my hand and the front door collapsed inward, the crash kicking up a menacing cloud of soot. I stood coughing and could hear my roomates giggling. I took one step into the mansion and did a quick sweep with my flashlight. Blackened furniture, heavy footprints in the soot, ivy creeping up throught the floorboards, silent as a grave. A heatbox masoleum. I looked back at jason and ron.
“seems okay, sure you don't want to come with me?”
Jason piped up.
“yeah, no, that's okay, get in there. Watch out for ghost bears and monster dogs, okay, buddy? Start taking pictures, too, i don't want to miss this shit.”
i carefully stepped through the foyer and into a huge dining room. The large oak table remained intact, littered with sooty, cracked china plates. In the corner of the room, a blackened bust of michaelangelo's david stood, thick cords of ivy wrapping themselves around his chiseled frame. From the corner of my eye, i saw movement. Something scurried along the wall and brushed my leg as it ran past me. I must have screamed, because my nextel started chirping.
Jason's voice from what seemed like miles away flew through the ear piece as i pushed in the receive button.
“holy shit, buddy, what happened? Was it a ghost? Or a bear? Or a ghost bear-dog? Should we get the ecto-packs from the trunk and come in there and bust some ghosts?”
laughing. I shined my flashlight in the corner to see a small raccoon cowering.
I pushed the send button.
“no, asshole, just a raccoon. I'm going to go further.”
“start taking pictures, sissy, i want to see this shit.”
i took the camera from my pocket and snapped a shot of ivy choked david and the scared raccoon.
The floorbords beneath my feet groaned as i stepped from the dining room into a skylit kitchen. The gas line must have blown the roof right off, i could look up and see nothing but stars, and clouds, and a telling moon. I swept the flashlight along the floor, more footprints, leading out of the decimated kitchen into a narrow hallway. I decided to follow the footprints, taking careful steps into the hallway. After 6 steps or so the footprints ended, like someone had stopped dead in their tracks. No footprints of someone turning around, though, just two footprints, set in time. I pointed the flashlight down the hallway, shrugged my shoulders and took two more steps. Upon the third step, a great cracking sound, a cacophonous symphony of splitting wood, and the floor swallowed me. And i fell.
“um, yes. Or, since i know you are a word nerd, i could say you are namby-pamby, a weakling, cowardly, a limp-wristed nancy boy, yellow belly scardey cat, candy-ass sissy, apron string tugging pussy, mamma's boy with...”
“okay, jesus, i get you. Now, are you guys coming in with me?”
“yeah, fuck no. listen, ron and i will be right here, with the nextels, so if you pee yourself or are crippled in fear or stub your toe on a skull or find one-eyed-willy's treasure or something, we will come in and get you. The offer still stands, 300 bucks and a half barrel of molson, if you go in there and check out every nook and cranny, leave no stone unturned, you know, look around.”
“you got a flashlight?”
“yeah, of course.”
“either of you have a weapon i could bring in with me?”
“no, what do i look like? Huh? An armenian arms dealer? Oh wait, i left my combat shotgun back at our apartment. So no, we don't have any weapons to offer. Here, take this stick in with you. Look, it's kinda sharp at one end, charlie bronson. Just go in, for christs' sake, i'm freezing my boys off out here. Ron, start the car, i bet you this fairy doesn't last 3 minutes in there.”
“all right, all right, i'm going. Fucking asshole.”
where we are- 50 miles from bumblefuck nowhere. Like, if bumblefuck USA had a backwoods halfbred cousin, we were there. It took us 4 hours to drive here, it might have taken less time if we all weren't so drunk. My roomate jason was at the laundromat last week and found himself in a conversation with 2 junkies about urban legends. He was evidently sitting there innocently sketching a picture of bela lugosi as dracula and this one junkie plops down beside him, and being that jason will talk to anyone, they strike up a convo. One thing leads to another, they are drinking grape soda and chit chatting about the junkie's plight, you know, living with HIV, and jason asks these two butt pumpers if they know any really fucked up stories, like, shit they have seen. The second junkie comes over, plants a big wet kiss on the other junkie, and stares right into jason's eyes.
“wanna hear sometin real fucked up, huh?”
jason, of course, did.
“before me and marcus here got together, well, i was a bit of a party boy. Anywhere there was hot ass and designer drugs, ya could find me. So one weekend i gots invited to this high roller's place way out in the woods. Me and some of my boys drive all the way out there, it's sometin like 3 hours away, and we pull up this long ass driveway, the tree line parts and this fucking glorious mansion is unveiled. We get out and go in and let me tell you, sodom had nothing on this party. Drugs and fucking and goats and latex and screaming and blood and, well, you get the picture. Most fucked up weekend of my life.”
jason was not impressed.
“so, you went to some rich freak's sex party? Wow, how eyes wide shut.”
“you didn't let me finish. Way's i heard it, some time later, like 2 years or some shit, bad shit happened at that place. Big fire, like 45 people died. When the fire department finally got there, nothing left but burnt latex and melted whirring fist dildos.”
“okay, yeah, you have my attention.”
“here's the spooky part. The guy who owned the house, well he was a bit of a recluse. Besides the heroin butt parties, he kept to himself, hording drugs and cash. A treasure to be had. They say it's all still there, in a fire proof safe in the basement, just waiting to be snatched up by some brave soul.”
jason was intrigued.
“well, why didn't anyone who knew this shit was there just go in and crack the safe, you know, steal that shit?”
the junkie leaned in closer.
“that house be haunted, sweetheart.”
jason laughed.
“yeah, okay.”
“no. for real. Ghosts, baby, ghosts. Screaming in pain. Besides that, the fucko that owned the house had a dog kennel in the back, he bred pit bulls. They say them dogs still living out there, in the woods around that house. And, that bear country. Big brown bears, crazy, bloodthirsty bears, fuck you up, toots.”
jason couldn't let it go. He tore a sheet of sketch paper from his notebook and handed it to him.
“make me a map. There's twenty bucks in it for you. We'll see about these ghosts and bears and feral pit bulls.”
the junkie's directions were frighteningly accurate. We pulled up the driveway and through the moon laced trees we could see the remnants of the mansion. We sat in the car for a minute and burnt a j, thought things over. It was decided i would go in, for 300 hundred bucks from jason's student loan check and a half barrel of molson ron would steal from the beer distributor he worked for.
I clicked on the flashlight and started for the crumbling front door.
“i swear if you guys fuck with me, and leave me out here, murder is the least of your worries.”
jason was digging in his coat pocket.
“wait, wait, here, take my digital camera in with you. I have to see this shit, but from out here, you know, at a safe distance.”
i shook my head, snatched the camera and climbed the blackened front staircase to the sprawling front porch. I looked back at jason and ron, standing there smoking cigarettes, and jason waved his hand, ushering me in. I took the doorknob in my hand and the front door collapsed inward, the crash kicking up a menacing cloud of soot. I stood coughing and could hear my roomates giggling. I took one step into the mansion and did a quick sweep with my flashlight. Blackened furniture, heavy footprints in the soot, ivy creeping up throught the floorboards, silent as a grave. A heatbox masoleum. I looked back at jason and ron.
“seems okay, sure you don't want to come with me?”
Jason piped up.
“yeah, no, that's okay, get in there. Watch out for ghost bears and monster dogs, okay, buddy? Start taking pictures, too, i don't want to miss this shit.”
i carefully stepped through the foyer and into a huge dining room. The large oak table remained intact, littered with sooty, cracked china plates. In the corner of the room, a blackened bust of michaelangelo's david stood, thick cords of ivy wrapping themselves around his chiseled frame. From the corner of my eye, i saw movement. Something scurried along the wall and brushed my leg as it ran past me. I must have screamed, because my nextel started chirping.
Jason's voice from what seemed like miles away flew through the ear piece as i pushed in the receive button.
“holy shit, buddy, what happened? Was it a ghost? Or a bear? Or a ghost bear-dog? Should we get the ecto-packs from the trunk and come in there and bust some ghosts?”
laughing. I shined my flashlight in the corner to see a small raccoon cowering.
I pushed the send button.
“no, asshole, just a raccoon. I'm going to go further.”
“start taking pictures, sissy, i want to see this shit.”
i took the camera from my pocket and snapped a shot of ivy choked david and the scared raccoon.
The floorbords beneath my feet groaned as i stepped from the dining room into a skylit kitchen. The gas line must have blown the roof right off, i could look up and see nothing but stars, and clouds, and a telling moon. I swept the flashlight along the floor, more footprints, leading out of the decimated kitchen into a narrow hallway. I decided to follow the footprints, taking careful steps into the hallway. After 6 steps or so the footprints ended, like someone had stopped dead in their tracks. No footprints of someone turning around, though, just two footprints, set in time. I pointed the flashlight down the hallway, shrugged my shoulders and took two more steps. Upon the third step, a great cracking sound, a cacophonous symphony of splitting wood, and the floor swallowed me. And i fell.
urban legends and HIV
so i was inking the creature today at the laundromat and found myself in a discussion with 2 dudes who were obviously high on something about urban legends. through our discussion it was revealed that they both had HIV and i was completely enthralled.short story to come.
for real.
like, tonight.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
creature WIP
just have to finish detailing and there you will have it, the creature from the black lagoon.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
"daniel, i'm your brother."
so i watched "there will be blood" again today.
upon first viewing, my favorite sequence was that of daniel day lewis and paul dano at the end of the movie in the bowling alley.
that changed when i watched it again.
now, my favorite sequence starts when daniel plainview and his supposed long lost half brother are swimming in the ocean and talking of their old family home. through the conversation daniel realizes this man is not his brother. you see, daniel knows he is an evil man, well maybe not evil, but uncaring and cold, so he takes in his pathetic half brohter and offers him work. we see daniel floating in the waves as his brother sits in the sand, and daniel is furious. he floats in the water angrily.
that, my friends, that is a fucking scene.
between that and the next scene as daniel sits in a bar and leers at his brother, he does not speak. but we can tell he is going to murder him.
without one word being spoken.
my god, it gives me chills.
daniel day lewis has given what is my favorite performance in my movie viewing history.
so, i sketched as i watched.
this doesn't really look like him, but i plan on doing a vector portrait.
i won't do his portrayal any justice, i mean, it is tough to capture the fury in his eyes with a computer, but i'll do my best.
see this fucking movie, people, for me, see it.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
who said it was a challenge?
you want a monster tao anime mech samurai?
done.
now, to come up with a background.
feels good to use a pencil again.
i missed it.
god, i feel good.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
why racial profiling is wrong.
so in my graphic symbolism class we were assigned a partner to create a personal logo for.i got paired up with, alphabetically, wade boone, who i have had classes with before and never have spoken a word to.
ever.
the project is to capture two physical attributes of your partner as well as his or her personal style/likes.
so i sit down to interview wade, as if he were a potential client, and the conversation goes as follows-
"so, wade, what are you into?"
at this point i am thinking wade loves hip hop, street life, the hustle, because he dresses like a thug.
boy, was i wrong.
wade enlightened me.
"yeah, well, i like anime. and samurais. i was thinking you could like have me chest up surrounded by chinese wisdom symbols and tribal signs. like my tattoos.(all tribals) I really love manga and japanese culture. so, like, the chinese wisdom symbols and the tribal signs could be melting into each other and shit. that's me, violent but wise. yeah."
so the picture above is my reference.
now, i have to come up with a logo for this anime loving, tao encouraging, samurai adoring, thug dressing, no sense of humor dude.
should be easy enough.
fuck.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
okay, i'm done now.
time to try something different.i need to come up with a personal logo for a schoolmate who is an african american, thug dressing, goth loving, samurai adoring, anime freak.
should be easy enough.
shit.
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