What one person can do, another can do.

So I'm talking to a good friend of mine over the facebook chat window. Just shooting ideas around at each other, talking about a few projects we want to work on. Characters and story lines, that sort of thing. I mention to him that next time we hang out, I want to show him some sketches of characters I have in my head-he had seen some earlier doodles but they were really rough. So he says to me, "I wish I could draw bro". Which is something I've heard from many people for most of my life.

I really hate phrasing it that way because it makes me seem like I'm gloating a bit (I assure you I'm not). I have much more of a self-loathing opinion of my work but I won't get into that. The truth is I've heard that for a long time and it has always bugged me when hearing someone confess that they can't draw or paint or just be creative in any way. I tell him "I believe everyone has the capacity to draw. The problem is people try to draw things realistically and thats not what drawing is about."

That little bit must have sparked some interest in what I had to say since he wanted to hear the rest of my theory. So I laid it out as simply as I can. "To me, drawing is like making a film. You don't try to film things the way they exactly are. You tell a story that is out of the norm. Something fantastic and magical. To me, drawing is a way to show people a different perspective of reality. When people who don't have the experience try to draw, they usually draw things exactly as the way they see it and thats where they fuck up. If you wanted to see things the way they are, then take a picture or open your fucking eyes. I think people need to embrace things from a different perspective and draw them differently. Lines don't have to be straight. The right colors don't need to be used. And you NEVER, EVER have to color inside the lines. Ever. Coloring inside the lines is for pussies"

Essentially, thats the essence of art. The magic of creating something. You're showing people a world through the view of a different lens. So to those who say "I wish I could.", fucking do it. If an idiot shmuck like me can, anyone else sure as hell could.

The Golden Bull Cometh

Had a really weird dream last night. Thought I'd share. So I'm at my cousins house on her birthday. She's turning 15 and her birthday happens to land on some sort of freaky pagan holiday. We're all in the house terrified because he just instinctively know that shes going to die and that shes cursed. Don't know why we know that, but in the dream it was just common knowledge. So I stuff her in a closet with her little sister and my sister, run downstairs and grab her father who is working on a painting. Not sure what he was working on but he grabs his gun and runs upstairs. I tell the girls that I'm going to run outside and find my car. But I have no idea where it is. The town for some reason is deserted, foggy and gray so I can't see a fucking thing. At this point we know whatever is coming for us, is coming quick. There's this unknown fear inside us all. I open the door and standing on the porch looking at me is a wolf and a golden bull. My uncle shoots at the golden bull as the wolf chases me inside. I'm trying to wave him away with my arm as my phone starts to ring. I try to fucking answer it, despite the fact that a wolf is trying to fucking maul me. At that point I woke up. Pretty gnarly eh?

It looks like shit outside.

Had a pretty awesome weekend except for Sunday. I did jack shit. Considering I have all this free time, you would think I'd be more productive. Anyway, I started work on my next piece. Having a bit of trouble but after a lot of reflection and somewhat of a mini mental break down, I think I'm ready to tackle it again. This time from a different perspective. I'm trying a lot of different things with my work this year. Should be cool to see how I progressed at the end of the year. I also have a side project in the work that I'll post up soon. I hope. Who fucking knows, I rarely keep my word about these things. I'm sorry. But hey, here's some early sketches of Lincoln for ya!

Long overdue post + LINCOLN!!!

My laziness is in full effect this month. I've had plenty of time for updates but just didn't bother. I apologize and will offer out handjobs for forgiveness. Anyway, I just posted my latest mixed media illustration, drawing, painting, what have you, featuring our sixteenth president. It's been done for a little over a week and no, laziness had nothing to do with the delay of its unveiling. Since it's a portrait of Lincoln and being the sophomore entry in my "Head Shots" (thanks John!) series, I decided to wait to the 14th to release it. The date holds a lot of importance to its release because its the same day that Lincoln was shot point blank in the back of the head. He didn't die until the following morning and I fully believe that the reason why the bullet didn't do him in sooner is because an eagle flew in front of the bullet, sacrificing itself in an attempt to save our beloved president. As american as it's ever going to get folks. But this isn't a history lesson. It's a look into the bleak last moments of a man who had too much on his shoulders and a look of "Oh shit.." on his face. Mr. Lincoln, you will be remembered. God bless you sir.