Fottergraffing

Been awhile since I last posted. During my absence I have developed (no pun intended) an affinity for Photography. Digital at this point, but who knows where it will lead. This picture is from a FCYPAA camping trip in Johnathon Dickinson State Park in Florida. It was a 30 second exposure of a freight train from out of my pal, Red's Volkswagen window while we were stopped at the crossing. There appears to be a light at the end of the tunnel, even though there is no tunnel... This is a physical representative manifestation of the enclosed perceptual reality of a self-confined mind. Anyway, I plan to post more frequently and regularly, especially with interesting photos and other feats of camera induced experimentation. I wish I had more to say, but a picture is worth a thousand words ( and I mean good words...not fake words like "a, the, it, and, but, spider, grapefruit, or").

Reflection is Protection, My Brother...

There is a very deep emotional interaction here. Which, to me, is interesting, because of the fact that I rarely (if ever) plan for a specific emotion to be present in the character of a drawing. And indeed, I often feel as though the emotional state of the subject is of secondary importance to it's aesthetic qualities. However, this subtly charged Darwinian confrontation stands out as a piece where I'm grateful for the happy accident of unplanned emotion. I suppose there are multiple interpretations of the emotional interplay in this situation. In lieu of that, I will keep my opinion on the expression to myself, except to say that I love how the bird looks like he feels remorse for the action he is about to take... Or maybe not. Another aspect worth mentioning is that the characters look like they could be two entirely seperate creations, and if they were split down the middle each could stand on it's own as a finished piece. The emotional connection, then, is the only bond unifying these two . Sexy. Bang!

Tentacles are really in

This is an interesting piece. Very small format, actual size is approximately 3" x 3" square. Black ballpoint pen on yellow paper. Not sure where the original actually is. It was floating around the vault for awhile, i would occasionally run across it and marvel at the seamless blend between... what the hell am i talking about? Whenever this work pops out from underneath whichever bureau or piece of machinery it has hidden itself under, things start to feel really creepy. What the hell was going on that day? Was i watching too much tentacle anime(if you havent seen "Urotsukidoji: The Legend of the Overfiend" do yourself a favor and track down a copy)? The Burning Rage that is pouring out of those eyes is something that was by no means planned. I'm pretty sure this piece's genesis was at work, and in attempt to make a friend/co-worker feel uncomfortable, I inappropriately drew a picture of a squirmy penis and left it on his desk. He figured out who had drawn it (not challenging) and gave it back, where it sat on my desk, for a while, hiding under work-related papers when upper management figures would come poking around, it used to make me laugh. At that point it was only the rightmost penis and the stubbly scroat underneath, innocent enough and quite benign. I don't ever really remember drawing the rest, it happened fast and hard (these are carefully chosen adjectives... ha ha ha) and all of a sudden i realized it had crossed the boundary from doodle to significant, socially applicable art. And I saw my hand storing it between the pages of a book for safekeeping on the trip home. To this day I don't know why
I decided to bring it home... safe keeping? did i really think someone would try and steal it? All I know is it haunts me and I wish it would stop jumping out and scaring polite company.

The original is much more disturbing, by the way. because it's so small, you really have to get close to see it and then you find yourself questioning the sanity of a patriarchal society, not to mention the aura of evil that surrounds it. I'm pretty sure I unwittingly bound the soul of an old-testament type god to this innocent note card. Holey Moley Mother of Moles. I might consider selling this one day... but it would probably be an irresponsible selfish decision based on trying to get it as far away from me as possible, which would lead to global devasation and forced colonization of the moon. We'll see...

Moleskine

Alright, this is kinda sick, kids. I came down with a case of moleskine fever... and besides being trendy or something, it feels so damn corporate. Nevertheless, i love this damned, blank book. I carry it everywhere, thoughts of what to fill it with consume my waking and sleeping hours, this is a diurnal and nocturnal obsession (emission?). I told myself In was going to limit it to 1 post per day. it's been like only10 hours, but it is technically nearing the next day. Breaking my own rules so soon after making them... pretty typical in my experience really.
This is what i wanted to introduce you to. it is a page from my moleskine. This is the good stuff, the current stuff. little or no thought involved...straight from the big rusty pipe. Ahem... look at that picnic scene. To me, in a word, it is terrifying... breakfast foods at a picnic! whoever heard of such a thing? A breakfast picnic? It doesn't exist, unless you're camping, but that's not really a picnic because you were already outside anyway. what, are you gonna go inside to eat when you're camping? of course not.

Get used to this format. I don't think i'm getting over it any time soon. I want to fill up a billion of these things. i think they put readily absorbable (i don't think this is really a word. and if it is it is definitely spelled incorrectly) methadone in the paper. I want them to last at least a thousand years.
At least.

This is so good. Why on earth do i love this small blank book. Screw it. Oh well, i've never been good at withholding pleasure, so like i said, you'll be seeing more of this type of stuff, if you stick around... if you're reading in the first place... oh god. what if i'm typing to myself? does everybody feel this anxiety?

What the Hell is going on?

Hey I have a grand ol' plan... listen to some Arcade Fire while admiring the art. Those folks are top notch.

Can I get a witness?

W.

Bang!!!

Well, first post... Is this how you start one of these things? Feels Awkward. Do I introduce myself? To who? That's what is making this so hard, see? If I could picture to whom I am speaking... if i could envision my audience, if you would, this would be much simpler. My name is Will.

Why was this piece selected as Numero uno? I felt it was important to preserve it digitally as the acid in the coffee used for the background wash is, as we speak, slowly (or maybe quickly...who knows how long things like that take?) dissolving the paper it was applied to. Wow. That reminds me of the Strangler Fig. Well, actually, not so much if I think about it. But it does remind me of some people (and Governments) I know and they remind me of the Majestic Strangler Fig, so it all works out. This piece resides in the private collection of an unknown individual. It was sold at auction and although I won't reveal how much it sold for, i will say that it was a bargain. Lucky You, whoever won that bid!!! (leave a comment if you ever read this and tell me where you hung it in your house... i'm thinking bathroom or dining room, hmmmm....)

This is the full piece, by the way, nothing up above the shoulders. Just like this. I hope somebody reads this... and looks at the art... and leaves a comment... and shares it with all of their friends and family... and comes back often, hungrily scrounging for more...

W.