Illustration Friday: Diary (A Celebration of Genetic Dislexia)

Back in the 1920's, on Sundays, come hail rain or shine, Gretel, her brother and father would head down to Morris highway junction and set up a strawberry milk shake stand. 

Most days they used the good kitchen table as a base to display their wares. Of course their step-mother Geraldine, had she been present, would have been horrified at the misuse of such a family heirloom.

But, like the wicked old woman in the forest, she was dee-ee-dee.

Dead.

Though they were Sundays, Gretel's father, who had once been a hatter in Mudgee before the revolution, didn't  mind that they weren't at church. " My kids don't need religion," he would say. "We got bush spirits to teach us."

But bush spirits or not, he was always a bit 'iffy' when flocks of White Witch moths, drawn by the smell of fresh strawberries, came fluttering out of the Eucalyptii Dredadora trees lining the road.....

A long time later, when she was on old woman in the Cessnock Home for Hardly Used Catholic Virgins, Gretel would often pull out her ancient leather bound dairy and place it on the altar next to her bed. Inside, next to the fading ink words, were two dried and flattened White Witch moths.

"They were happy days," she would tell herself with a toothless smile as she tapped her wooden leg against the brass bed.  "Happy days full of Thysania agrippina, endless strawberry milkshakes, cornucopic fly swatting, rabbit shooting - and the forbidden pleasure of undiagnosed genetic dislexia."

Thankyou for everyone who looked at my last two posts and especially for watching the animations. I'll be back tomorrow and come visit. So be curafal ... err I mean 'careful." Watch out for Thysania agrippina in the meantime. :) Oh and thank you for the suggestion WW. It's a beautiful moth.

And most importantly I am not making fun of people with dislexia.
Only myself - and my recently discovered ability to not type English.

Have you seen this work? A Bulgarian artist.  On Rossichka's site.
Maistora Vladimir Dimitrov. Worth a look.

Hansel and Gretel and The Path with No Crumbs

Been 'working up' Gretel and Hansel. I'm trying for a medieval feel - clothes, shoes, hats.

But they are both still too fat for my liking. At this point in the story the whole family is supposedly starving - which is why the kids are being dumped in the forest. But when I make their faces thinner they lose a lot of appeal.

So I kept them fat. The wicked witch of the forest will be happy!

The quote is from Grimms' tales. We all know that the brothers Grimm were a boon to western cultural history, gathering as they did folktales from so many different countries.

Their first few editions, I am led to believe, were the clean versions - "clean' meaning unsanitised versions full of innuendo, bloodshed and old fashioned rollicking peasant ribald goodness.

Later editions were sanitised to be more suitable for children and the buying public.

Sad, but good. Because, if they weren't sanitised, maybe they would have gone out of print a long, long time ago - and we would be saying "The Brothers Who?"

I included a selection of images to show you where I worked from.

Thankyou for looking. Please click rof gib if gib is your thing :).

You know, your comments make me feel great because you take the time to say something about my work.

So, though it might sound weid, in your honour, I have turned the comments off for this one.

Hopefully this will give you more time to work on your own art.

And it's also my way of thanking you for your past comments.

Does that make sense? I hope so. :) :)

Freudian Slips, John-Paul Satre and Court Evidence

Roberto the talented artist    from  oloratrementina. was kind enough to ask about my animations. I've dug a few of them up. They are still covered in soil and none have any narrative  what-so-ever. They also have no meaning, except perhaps something that Jean-Paul Sartre might have found. Like myself, they are all quite old and  shabby and I enjoyed making all of them  - as I hope my parents enjoyed making me.

Thank-you for looking at them - I'll take them down in a few days as my psychologist needs   them as evidence.....

The shortest one is the second one: "Nosferatu and the Butterfly."

Australian Drop Bear Attacks English Tourist, Circa August 15, 1886.

It's rough on your feeings being a "Drop Bear" in Oz.

This post under the influence of pseudo-ephedrine. :)

A Viking Funeral.

Well Oz lost a larrikan artist last Saturday night. His name was Brian Rohde. Brian had been a photographer, artist, sailor. He was never afraid to try anything new, never afraid to pass on his advice, and never scared to stick up for his opinions - whether they were right or wrong. We need more people like Brian Rohde.

It's very sad that he has gone.

There is a small thread about Brian here.

On his card he said he was an "Imagineer".
I think he was right.

This image is my dedication to Brian.

Vellapulla - the Witch's House

Hello. Just getting over the flu.

Firstly apologies for not getting back to the comments section yet.

Thankyou to everyone who commented.

Secondly" apologies for not getting to your blogs - yet.

Been taking those wonderfull cold and flu t ablets that send you off the planet. :)

Hehehehehehe -errgh.

You want to know what Mars looks like from close? I can tell you.....!

But seriously in Oz we call it "sickasadog." I think I have been hallucinating for two days - and when I woke up this morn' these images were on my hard-drive.

So what's this about? Hmm.

Did you know there is a style of architecture called Storybook Architecture?

No, either did I. But whoever has been on my machine for the last two days has been looking it up.

About the images above this text  - the top image is rendered at 30 cm by something at 360 DPi and ended up being 1.8 gigs after all the layering. The boy is composited in.

The third image is made by playing with the threshold filter.

The images are alll  basically experiments in style.

The last three images are the bare 3d renders without post processing showing the overview of the model -which is made from several commercial models I ransacked and distorted to my own evil desires.

There's and old well and a celtic cross that I need to take advantage of------ the devil on my left shoulder tells me it could be an uncomfortable experience.

And the boy? (see below this text) He could be any of five Jacks* - or one Hansell.

One thing is for sure - he is "uptonogood." Those rabbits should watch out.

And the witch who owns the house - that could be Fuamnach?

thankyou again for your time

be back again tommorow

honest!

PS: have you seen Denise Scaramai's work? Stylisticaly very interesting and worth a look. 500 plus followers can't be wrong :)

And good to see Daniel Powers posting again.

*Jack and the Beanstalk, Jack Be Nimble, Jack the Giant Killer, Jack and Jill, Jack Sprat could at no fat.....

Jack and the Bean Stalk

Well the first Giant post was a little too child friendly for me. It made me feel all warm and cuddly.

So I thought, who deserves to get it today?

Answer: Jack!

You know, Jack wasn't just a thickhead (he sold his mum's cow for a couple of beans) he was a recurrent thief and a murderer.

In other words, just a typical everyday fairy tale hero.

Mind you, the Giant's wife was playing up as well.

Can't say I blame her.

While making these images I decided that I like Jack.

He's feeling pretty confident in this shot, running off with the bag o' gold.

Reminds me of:

Jack be nimble,

Jack be quick,
Jack jump over
The candlestick.

Wait till he gets tto the edge of the table and finds out his ladder has vanished ------

It's a big table. He might be a flat Jack when he hits the floor.

Interestingly Wiki tells me Fi fi fo etc is the equivalent of "Oh poo!".

Sort of puts a new light on the evil giant if he goes round saying "Oh poo! What is that smell?'"

I like the traditional version better.

Thankyou for looking again.
Tomorrow for me is blog visiting day. Watch out!

Illustration Friday: Giant (The Witch, the Dog and the Giant)

The Witch, the Dog - and The Giant Locked in a Jar

Synopsis

Well in this story a small witch named Lynx and her dog Laiska go for a walk in the deep dark forest. There they discover the ancient vine covered stone ruins of a Druidic temple. And inside the ruins they find a kind but stupid Giant locked in a glass jar. The Giant has been there for three days, and not only is he getting hungry and running out of air, he really needs to make a nature stop. His captor is an evil wizard named Cedric Balsamic Jnr.

Should Lynx find the golden key that the giant needs to be free, the Giant promises her free piano lessons for the rest of her life.

Lynx, who doesn't like the piano at all, promises to do her best.

That night on the way back to her auntys Griselda's place (where Lynx is staying for the summer holidays), effected by a small golden topped mushroom she has eaten,  Lynx falls into a swollen brook at the forest edge. 

Her faithful Laiska, fresh from being rescued in  outer space by Robert Jordan Jnr, does her best to drag Lynx from the swollen brook. 

But in vain.

Lynx, dragged under water by the amazing amout of underwear she has been forced to wear by the SFYWWBU (the Society For Young Witches to Wear Big Underwear) dissappears under the swirling deep dark and treacherous waters.

Of course the plot questions at this point are:

Will Lynx be seen again? What will aunt Griselda tell Lynx's mother Jane? Will the Giant make the next football game at Sydney stadium? Will Laiska be captured by the evil Russians and sent back into space in Sputnick 67? Will Finnie fix up his typos? Or will he stop making up silly stories and go and mow his lawn?

Only time will tell.

(to be cont.)

This little girl was inspired by Bella's work. Amazing artist that she is.

The columns and vines by Maxfield Parrish - whose work I admire greatly.

The Giant? Well that's Ralph. I've had him for a while and never used him.

I plan to Ralph out this afternoon for a while so he feels better.

You can read about the SFYWWBU here.

thanks for looking. :)

Saving Myself

Hey hey, after that last post with the semi naked man I thought I'd better redeam myself.

I forgot that I was a painter for a while there :) so thought I'd better stick some of my real life paintings up.

That said, the top picture is of a photograph of a rose I saw in Canberra a few months ago when I went down for the post impressionists' show.  When I looked it through the viewfinder this is what I saw.

It wasn't till I got home that I realised that my breath had been fogging up the image in the viewfinder. So for the final image I cheated and photoshopped it.

The rest of the images bar one are paintings.

The toy boat one is my reaction to those sparkles that I put in my illustrations. One of the people who collect my work was kind enough to buy it.

The second one is a landscape down the road from where my old painting professor lives. This one now lives in the collection of another optometrist who has great style and taste :)

The next three are recent paintings (last two weeks) and haven't been exhibited. Though I used the same dark linen glazed background I tried to bring a bit more colour into them. It makes people think that I am happy!

But seriously, the dark ground helps you to tie the colours in. Theory is that with a limited tonal range you can use as many colours as you like - and the whole will be harmonious. It works most of the time. All these paintings are about 55 by 42 cm?

The one of the beach with houses in the foreground is a segment of a painting I did a few years ago. I like to simplify work by taking photographs of paintings I have done, isolating part of the painting that might make a good composition, then printing that out quite small, so that I have only the basic shapes with which to work up another painting.

Sometimes it works, sometimes it's too abstracted.

The last two images a are of a larger painting 1.2 metres by .9 metres, which is bigger than I like to work. It's a fun painting related to my digital collages I did of Humpty Dumpty a few months ago, and it's called Humpty Dumpty Double Amputee. It's an experiment in built up glazes - so it was quite hard to capture on film due to the reflection etc,

This painting caused me a great deal of stress recently, as I put it in a local prize hanging and the culling committee refused to hang it. When I picked it back up I was informed that there were 'just too many things wrong with it."

As budding novelist I was lucky enough to experience first hand what is called a rainbow of emotions. Disbelief, disgust, revenge, anger, dismay, nausea, destruction of ego, self doubt etc - culminating in  resignation and distrust of the local art community.

Nothing that a glass of good wine wouldn't fix!

The last picture is the painting in my part of the studio that I share with six other painters.

What's next? Well yesterday the huge Dell Laser Colour Printer I ordered arrived. It's so big I can't lift it without help. But the two prints I have done on it are just magic. It's only 1200 DPI by 1200 DPI but on A4 it still looks great. When I get a chance I'll be experimenting with digital transfer technique - so I will be finally able to get some of my illustrations out into the 'real' world.

If you are thinking of buying another inkjet, before you do, check out one of these. It won't do photo quality like a lab will - but I think it will keep me happy.

thanks again for looking at my work.

Banker Brand Underpants

Inspired by Michael Angelo's David, Kinga's Codpieces, Ces's dreams of marching 'Sailor's', Mita's Elephant Man, Pixie's Pole dancer, Amalia's move and, above all, Pat's hot pants, I decided to do this version of the male pin up.

Why this particular Pin up? Well I've known Ernie for a while. He's a facetious, egotistical no-brained ball of six pack.

And I hate him enough to make him famous.

But why Banker Brand Underpants?

It all came about when Rodger Whittaker, my agent, gave me a call a few Sunday's ago. I was on the way to my second day job as a poo-bag cleaner in one of our big hospitals. I'd just driven past my fourth burning car of the morning (Sunday's are bad in Newcastle) and was trying to avoid a pitched popgun battle between two groups of orange tee-shirted youths wearing afro-hair wigs - when the car phone began bleating.

"Got a job for you Finnie', a squeaky voice said.
I looked down at the dashboard speaker. "Who's this?"
The voice coughed. "Well who else would have a job for you?" he said.
"My third wife?"
"Ha! Ha. Ha." said Rodger without any sign of humour. "Are you busy?"
I swerved to avoid a dead cat on the road. "It's Sunday. Why would I be busy?"
Rodger smoker-coughed again, and announced dead-pan that we were on a to a "sure fire winner humdinger".

Over the next few minutes, with short breathed excitement, he outlined the add campaign that Banker Brand Underpants Registered Trademark had in mind.

Of course when he described the model that they wanted, my own mind immediately jumped to Ernie Schlaongenblinderbangen.
Not only did Ernie have a six pack (or is it eight?) and legs that a baby giraffe would die for, he had no fear of snakes, was as gay as a happy lottery winner - and worked for less than $38.00 an hour.

When I got to the hospital I called Ernie straight away.
He almost jumped down the phone with excitement.
"Banker Brand Underpants!!! Ooh. Oooo! Yoohoo! Ooooohoo!" he screamed.

And the rest, as they say, "is history".


Author's notes: Being well on my way to being a non-published children's book illustrator, I nearly didn't post this. After all, when I'm in the old people's home, I don't want to be introduced to every new in-patient as "You know, that guy who did the infamous Banker Brand Underpants ad." Of course I'd do my best to explain that it's pseudo erotica advertising. That it's the advertising erotica you have to have, when you aren't having any.

But I don't think they'd understand.

.

Thanks for looking. Whatever you do, please don't click the images.

I'm sorry for everyone I offended with this post.

By the way, if you get a chance check out Pat's Water Colour Banner.

And in truth I have only married once- to a beautiful hot blooded girl of Spanish extraction - who still thinks that when I go to work on Sundays at the hospital I am consultant surgeon to a team of microsurgeons who specialise in carbuncle removal-------