Loyally feeding the following beasts:
(follow and/or friend me -- if you appear to be a real person capable of passing the human tests, I will probably reciprocate)
Aggregated from Benefit of the Doubt and Tumblr, which gives the best representative sample of work in multiple media, I think
Been trying to get this guy right for a few days. I think his name is Dugan. Dugan Vandal Fluttermane.
Now just gotta write him a story.
#art #artistsofinstagram #sketch #sketchbook #drawing #fantasy #fantasyart #illustration #characterdesign #pencildrawing
Posted on 9 May 2017 | 10:25 pm
Posted on 8 May 2017 | 8:30 pm
#watercolor #watercolorpainting #painting #abstract #abstractart #art #artistsofinstagram
Posted on 7 May 2017 | 10:19 pm
More random #sketch work from a recently completed #sketchbook
#drawing #illustration #art #artistsofinstagram #fantasy #fantasyart #pencildrawing
Posted on 4 May 2017 | 1:22 am
Grabbing and posting some old #sketch from a recently finished #sketchbook
#art #artistsofinstagram #drawing #pencildrawing #illustration #fantasy
Posted on 2 May 2017 | 12:57 pm
2013 was a big year for doppelgangers. I had to check IMDB to confirm, but I shouldn't have bothered, the memory is so vivid: seeing previews at indie features, and noticing that there were two movies arriving at the same time, both in a dark eccentric style, and both about protagonists meeting shadow versions of themselves.
I finally got around to seeing both of them this year. 2017 is looking to be a great year for discovering movies.
In case you missed either of them: the first was Enemy, starring Jake Gyllenhaal and directed by Denis Villeneuve. You might recognize that name... in the past year, the guy really leveled up, directing excellent film and worldwide award magnet The Arrival. The other was The Double, starring Jesse Eisenberg and directed by Richard Ayoade.
Enemy was an excellent, stirring film, partly because it was so focused and compact. It had the feel of Christopher Nolan's earlier films, but with richer tactile qualities, sort of inky and jaundiced. In a sense, its narrative purity was also its weakness: it felt so focused that it became irrelevant. It was essentially a study of itself, blind to the world that we were watching it from.
The Double, on its surface, wasn't much different. It took place in an absurdist fantasy world with strong Terry Gilliam influences, and it was tricky and ominous, but relatively predictable (the twists weren't very twisty, and those moments that were surprising weren't very relevant to the plot as a whole). However, these criticisms are minor quibbles when the whole product is taken into account, and I think, though it was less pure and technically artful, The Double was heartier than Enemy, and had more to say to its audience.
The key problematic in The Double was Simon's insecurity, and the film was intensely attentive to this. Simon was a sad character, perhaps too much of a caricature to be relatable, except for the fact that he embodies every neurotic insecurity and inferiority complex looming over our psychological bubbles. James was a brilliant foil, a manifestation of Simon's fantasy of dominance and aggression and confidence, and he captured both the thrill of that construct, and its terrible price: the inauthenticity, the opportunism, the misplaced priorities, the lack of consideration or compassion.
Simon having to face James as a sort of shadow perfection: that made for a powerful film, and at least for me, a compelling comment on how fantasy and reality run in parallel.
It brings larger questions to bear: at what point in our lives should we let go of the aspirational version of ourselves? At what point does a fantasy of self-possession, of personal success and validation, become an anchor rather than a buoy? Can we keep aspiring and striving, if we don't have some sort of perfect projection we're following... our own inadequacy, reconstructed as a guide to a better version of ourselves?
I started reading Fernando Pessoa's The Book of Disquiet recently -- you may have run across it in my other recent entries -- and this fits firmly within this entry's thematic, as well. Pessoa's distinguishing characteristic was that he wrote under multiple personas, all refracting his own personality in various ways. These all had their own histories and identities and concerns, but their writing (through Pessoa) was always rich and earnest and fully realized. Pessoa's subjects included inadequacy and incompleteness, the existential gaps at the heart of human identity. His writing might have been a balm for Simon.
This has been a relatively unfocused entry, and I hope you'll forgive it. Maybe I'll have more thoughts on 2013, the year of the doppelganger, and I'll write a second, more idealized post as a sort of twinner to this one.
Posted on 30 April 2017 | 3:21 am
More exercises in #abstract #color & contrast.
#selftaught #art #practicemakesperfect #artistsofinstagram #painting #watercolor
Posted on 22 April 2017 | 12:42 am
Frost in the flow
Have a couple more ambitious paintings in the works. In the meantime, how bout some experiments?
#watercolor #painting #abstractart #abstract #artistsofinstagram #practicemakesperfect #art #selftaught
Posted on 21 April 2017 | 12:32 am
Pole is trying to say something, but can’t get the words out quite right #blackandwhitephotography #peekskill
Posted on 19 April 2017 | 10:39 pm
Your style is a straitjacket.
You've figured out what you think is beautiful, and what kind of work you're committed to, and what kind of character you have as an artist, and this is your protective stance as you present yourself to the world. Every time you give the public a new artifact, a new piece of yourself, you put yourself at their mercy... and yet, you've shut out so many others. Because by choosing your style, you've excluded all other styles, and those exclusions have become part of your identity.
Your identity is built on an unstable affirmative and a rigid infinity of negatives.
I don't have a style. Each new work looks for a style, and they don't find it in me, and so they struggle. So my exclusions are washed away, and my potential fills the infinite space that my pretensions have vacated.
. . . . .
Your popularity is a poison.
You know the taste of validation, of feedback and response and appreciation. It's a sweet acidity that penetrates every level of your praxis. It softens your commitment and puts cracks in your sovereignty, and once it's in there, it can't be washed out.
You may embrace it. You may say you "do it for the fans," that your followers are "the most important thing to you." Some people love the things that are killing them.
I have no fans. I've learned the long asceticism of failure, and it keeps my creative organs pure. If I love any of my own output, I know that it has a 100% approval rating, that the only person in the world who cares about it is enamored of it. Hate follows the same path.
. . . . .
Your productiveness is a failure mode.
You know how to turn an idea into a product. You have a pipeline, a process, a series of technical steps that lead you to something complete, that you're happy with, that you can show the world. You've dug away the soft loam of unfinished projects.
But that vast incompleteness was you at your most fertile, your most robust. When you finish a work, you strip away all its beautiful indecision, its vastness, the unfulfilled potential that gives it those cosmic roots. Each signature and sale is a cord of wood, and your range is notably short of trees.
I don't finish projects, and they remain seeds and saplings in the primeval woodland of my imagination. I may produce artifacts, little bundles to burn as kindling or desiccated limbs shaped into walking sticks, but this only happens when the work has already died. And so I leave my best work to the wild, nascent, leafy, unrealized, hopeful and beautifully hopeless.
. . . . .
"And I wonder if my apparently negligible voice might not embody the essence of thousands of voices, the longing for self-expression of thousands of lives, the patience of millions of souls resigned like my own to their daily lot, their useless dreams, and their hopeless hopes."
Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet
Posted on 7 April 2017 | 2:47 pm
From a war with everyone to an empty battlefield on the frontier of nowhere (a bonus from my work on that last #painting) .
#illustration #drawing #amdrawing #characterdesign #sketch #sketchbook #art #artistsofinstagram
Posted on 7 April 2017 | 2:08 am
After all that’s happened, why are you still sitting there? You beast, you old fucker with your lead-paint plaster walls, your closed door, your leaky windows.
Who was here when the fallout crept up the mountain? When the waves ate the eastern seaboard, when it got too hot for grass to grow on your incline? How is it that you’ll outlast me, and all of us? Not just my great grand-da who built you, but every human?
Fuck you, you ungrateful bastard, sitting flushed on your bit of rock… you think you’ll be staring down when the last light goes out.
I won’t let you have the pleasure. I won’t need to last much longer, to last longer than you.
Posted on 2 April 2017 | 1:27 am
“Of course I am going. Follow, sir, or take your leave, and stop asking such foolish questions.” (More in my series of figures in repose) #illustration #penandink #drawing #artistsofinstagram #art🎨 #sketch #sketchbook #characterdesign #lineart
Posted on 27 March 2017 | 11:34 pm
“Git a move on, youngen, this ain’t no different than every other treacherous mountain path…” (more in my series of figures in repose) #characterdesign #sketchbook #sketch #art🎨 #artistsofinstagram #drawing #penandink #illustration
Posted on 27 March 2017 | 8:05 pm
“Da, droog, I am a long way from home, and I still have far to go!” (More from my series of figures in repose) #amdrawing #drawing #illustration #penandink #artistsofinstagram #art🎨 #sketch #sketchbook #characterdesign
Posted on 25 March 2017 | 1:34 am