ILLUSTRATION FRIDAY: CARS

Junior Johnson, from bootlegger to stock car driver to team owner to Country Ham salesman back to moonshine (this time legit). A true American hero.

Art-wise, I'm trying out the spotty shading technique instead of the crosshatching. Like? Here's a closeup:

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ACEOS FROM BEN

Life is full of unexpected turns. For instance, I did not expect to ever become an art dealer, yet here I am, selling the work of a friend of mine who is too lazy to set up his own eBay account. Or he's hoping to ride the coattails of my meteoric rise to ACEO stardom. Either way, I don't mind. He's giving me 50%. So bid high.

Here are three others, all for sale on eBay:

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GREEN HERON

Ol' Green Heron is steppin out
Steppin out with leg so lean
Don't you holler, don't you shout
He's so good lookin he don't wanna be seen!

Ol' Green Heron!
Ol' Green Heron!
Ol' Green Heron,
Don't be scared of me.

Makin his way down the shore
He spots a tasty frog to eat
His dinner don't know what's in store
Soon his maker he shall meet.

Ol' Green Heron!
Ol' Green Heron!
Ol' Geren Heron,
Don't be scared of me.

I'm going to have to figure out how to make mp3s. Don't you want to hear me singing this stuff? I know you do.

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RED BYRON

Now that GOD OF WAR II has been completed by the wife and I, life can resume.

True story:

Robert "Red" Byron raced in unorganized stock car races in the 30's until he served in WWII. He came home with a destroyed left leg, so when he got back into racing he put on a steel stirrup which was bolted to the clutch. He won.

He was also the first official NASCAR champion.

Here's a close-up:

ILLUSTRATION FRIDAY UPDATE:

The topic is Signs. Since this is a NASCAR aceo, would the sign Left Turn Only apply?

Ugh. That was terrible. I hate the "left turn/NASCAR" jokes. Yeah, I get it. You find NASCAR to be monotonous because they only turn left. Isn't it ironic, though, that the same joke is made EVERY TIME to make that point?

Just saying.

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ILLUSTRATION FRIDAY: NEIGHBOR

I'm all excited about the De La Hoya vs Mayweather Jr fight tonight. So much so that I'm listing another boxing themed aceo even though they never sell. The wife and I are going over to a NEIGHBOR's apartment to watch it, as the Pay Per View price-tag is $75.

The full title to this one is PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG ARTIST DOING NECK EXERCISES.

In real life, it looks like this:

The only difference is it's done on the edge of the boxing ring, not the ottoman. And bored-looking dogs aren't in danger of getting a weight dropped on her head.

I predict De La Hoya to take this one by decision.

UPDATE: Mayweather Jr took the decision. I figured De La Hoya would find a way to connect more than he did.

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MOCKINGBIRD

I am a big mockingbird fan. I like their attitude. They're scrappy.

Here's a Work In Progress:

And here's a closeup of what might be the BEST eye I've ever drawn:

And here's a poem to work you into a bidding frenzy:

There once was a bird known for mocking
That I'd watch while the clock was tick-tocking
He took on all comers
Through winters and summers
With bravado at times quite shocking

Not my funniest, but accurate, I think.

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GAS TANK BASS PLAYER

There's a band called Split Lip Rayfield that I find to rock quite sufficiently. They have a bluegrass/punk/whoknowswhat sound. The bass player's instrument is made out of a gas tank. Enough said, I think.

I'm particularly proud of the subtle detail of his face, so here's a closeup:



One of my favorite lyrics:

It was just like a Gillian Welch song,
Except it was mine.

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GRACKLE IN THE GRASS

When traveling by foot, most birds hop. Some run. A few (of the non-water fowl type anyway) actually walk. Grackles have a stroll that I find quite satisfying. If you're lucky, you'll see one doing a grapevine (that's walking sideways, for those of you who've never seen an aerobics class).

I have to go to work. I'll update with a limerick or something later.

UPDATE: Obligatory poem

Here he is, the bird of the hour
Walking around his piercing eyes glower
His beak is set to make him look dour
As if he has eaten something quite sour
Or heard the phrase "junk bird" from some ivory tower

Rhyming words not used: flower, shower, power, our, wower (as in one who wows). Any others?

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ILLUSTRATION FRIDAY: REMEMBER

My downstairs neighbor used to be in a band in the 80's. He asked if I would mind drawing some aceos of his past. Here's one from his trip down memory lane.

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TIM: DOC WATSON

I'm not very good at drawing people in a way that ends up actually looking like them. This one turned out pretty good, though. So my good buddy and Doc Watson fan Tim gets this aceo.

Thanks, Tim, for making me take my guitar out of the closet and start playing again. Keep teaching me strumming rhythms and I'll return the favor with harmonies.

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NOBLE SAVAGE MYTH

Let's pretend that this is a portrait of an individual who lives in a society that is without all of the trappings of modern technology. It could be in the Congo, Amazon, Indonesia, wherever. Doesn't really matter. It seems like people either glamorize (noble) or demonize (savage) dudes like this. Me, I just see an opportunity for a goofy limerick.

There was a man on a mission
To give up his life filled with fishin.
He wanted more wealth
And much better health
And perhaps to be a beautician.

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SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS: (UN)ROOTED

The trees grow really tall around here in NC. And you know what they say about tall trees: big roots.

Yup, that's what they say.

"Trees have fallen and continue to fall," said the park ranger on a very windy day last week. "Enter at your own risk."

You can tell what kind of person you are by how you read that last sentence. Most people probably read "Enter at your own RISK." I read "ENTER at your own risk." But years of self-restraint/denial overrode my unhealthy desire to see trees falling, so I waited until the next day to see the carnage aftermath.

Here are a couple of non-paint pictures to show what I saw:




So I exaggerated the size of the tree a bit in the painting. Artistic license.

There they were, all the roots and inner workings of a tree on display, covered in red Carolina dirt.

The easy thing to do would be to draw some lesson from this - like the capillary action of the roots drawing water from the ground (too much analogy?) - about the impermanence of life and how all that once nurtured you will knock you down and leave you exposed to the world. But I'd rather say:

Dude. Big weather event. Destruction. Cool.

Does that make me insensitive? I hope so.

Sunday Scribblings.

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ILLUSTRATION FRIDAY: OLDEST POLAR BEAR

Here he is, the man, the myth, the legend. Dude has been jumping in freezing waters wearing nothing but a speedo and a swim cap for like forever. I thought I'd spare you the the full figure image.

You're welcome.

The old man lived life by his credo
To only do things that were neato
Don't need to be hotter
To jump in the water
In nothing but swim cap and speedo.

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A DEER

A deer. Exchanged for a caulk gun and basic electricity lessons.

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JUST A GUITAR

I bring you: another guitar.

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TRUMPET

I enjoyed drawing this in art class. If it sells for the cost of that class, I'll be breaking even.

I guess you could say you're not paying me, but rather the Art Alliance of Greensboro.

Anyway, here's a trumpet for your enjoyment. You can't actually play it, of course, but that may be a good thing. If you are a terrible player, for example. Like the guy that was painfully honking a rendition (for lack of a better word) of Girl From Ipanema. I loved that song, once.

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CRAZY SINGER

There's a great restaurant called Hillbilly Hideaway. It's one of those one meal on the menu style places. They also have music in the barn out back (NO DANCING, DRINKING, OR CUSSING). There's an old man who I believe owns/previously owned the place singing in the barn every time we go. He'll forget words, sing a little off key, the usual stuff that will get you kicked of American Idol, but he's very entertaining. That's who I was trying to draw.

Instead, this crazy looking dude is what materialized. Funny how life can be.

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THE WIZARD

I had (and still do, actually) Ozzy singing "The Wizard" in my head the entire time I was drawing this one.

I don't know why he looks angry. I hope it wasn't anything I did. Not that I believe in magic or anything. I just don't want to get hit with that stick.

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ART CLASS: INSTRUMENTS

The mountain dulcimer I got for my birthday is making the rounds: here it is in art class, modeling with a mandolin, tamborine, flute, and one of those thumb piano things.

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Draft: crow landing

This is the India ink version of the crow below.

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