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.

-----
LOOK! Pretty shiny things to buy @ NUTMEGNINE.COM!

And look here! Art to buy!

Need more wittyness and birdwatching excitement? Click this VERY SENTENCE.

SEEING ME THROUGH THE EYES OF ANOTHER

This aceo was created by my friend Ben.

You never know what your friends think of you until they draw you. Then the truth comes out.

Apparently, when my friend Ben sees me, he sees a naked Woody Allen/Egon from The Ghostbusters hybrid holding a Canjo* in front of yellow flames. I'm not quite sure how to take that. It's a great image, just a little disturbing.

* a Canjo is a one-stringed instrument that uses an aluminum can as a resonator. The Canjo can also be defined as an instrument upon which I ROCK. In the nude.

-----
LOOK! Pretty shiny things to buy @ NUTMEGNINE.COM!

And look here! Art to buy!

Need more wittyness and birdwatching excitement? Click this VERY SENTENCE.

ILLUSTRATION FRIDAY: TOTAL (FREAK)

I was in art class. The assignment: draw a curvy rocking chair on display. I was failing miserably. So when the teacher wasn't looking, I doodled whatever came to mind. This is what came out.

I will accept psychological evaluations in the comments section.

-----
LOOK! Pretty shiny things to buy @ NUTMEGNINE.COM!

And look here! Art to buy!

Need more wittyness and birdwatching excitement? Click this VERY SENTENCE.

Merry Christmas. There. I said it. Happy now? Is that all it takes?

-----
LOOK! Pretty shiny things to buy @ NUTMEGNINE.COM!

And look here! Art to buy!

Need more wittyness and birdwatching excitement? Click this VERY SENTENCE.

ILLUSTRATION FRIDAY: MASK

The good ol' mask of happiness. No one likes sad people. What bummers they are. Bringing everybody down. Why can't they fake it like everybody else?

Quit yer mopin', sad people.

-----
LOOK! Pretty shiny things to buy @ NUTMEGNINE.COM!

And look here! Art to buy!

Need more wittyness and birdwatching excitement? Click this VERY SENTENCE.

ILLUSTRATION FRIDAY: INVENTION

The invention represented here is the weapon. Now I suppose this is where I'm supposed to be all "aren't weapons bad, wouldn't we be better off without them, blah etc blah." I really don't want to be mistaken for some kind of Neo-Con yahoo, but I gotta say I'm glad weapons were invented.

The other day, the wife and I were at the dog park with our dog, Happy. Happy is a small dog who runs very fast and loves to be chased. It can be a little nerve-wracking at times, especially when the really big dogs go after her. Usually if it starts to get too aggressive, the bigger dog's owner would step in before any damage was done. This one time, however, no one stepped up when a huge German Shepherd started biting at Happy. I shooed him away, and we played in a different area of the dog run (the place is almost 6 acres). Things were fine until the big dog ran over with two others, and they triangulated Happy. Before I could get to them, the big dog had Happy's hind quarters in his mouth, and sent her airborn. Happy was crying as I picked up a stick and ran over to the scene and proceeded to bludgeon the big dog on it's cranium.

I'm not a big guy. Without a weapon, I'm no match for a big dog. Most humans aren't. But with a weapon, I was able to defend my dog. I was also able to scare the crap out of everyone in the crowded dog park, as I started screaming profanities at whoever the cowardly anonymous big dog owner was (stick still in hand; I wonder why he didn't identify himself?).

Anyway, Happy was fine. So was the big German Shepherd. We've been back to the park since, and upon retelling the story to others found out I'm not the first guy to go primal as a result of some uncontrolled dog. Would everything have been fine if I was without a weapon? I don't know. Maybe I could have gotten the big dog off of Happy with my bare hands. Maybe the dog wouldn't consider me easy pickings without a big stick and turn on me, adding to my dog-induced scars (I worked at an animal shelter). Maybe this time everything would have been fine. But I'll make sure there's at least a stick nearby, if it's all the same to you.

UPDATE: Or an effective mood stabilizer.

-----
LOOK! Pretty shiny things to buy @ NUTMEGNINE.COM!

And look here! Art to buy!

Need more wittyness and birdwatching excitement? Click this VERY SENTENCE.

PATH TO HERBIE'S 2

Here we are, continuing along the path on our way to breakfast. This is me. Why am I so colorless, you ask? Because I'm hungry. That's why I'm going to Herbie's. If you're not hungry, you have no business going there.

So this is my second listing this week that involves a picture of me. Am I becoming too self-absorbed? Or am I just self-absorbed enough? What is the perfect degree of self-absorbtion?

Anyway, here's a groovy little pic for your viewing enjoyment. Coming up next in this series: the building, maybe a waitress (she'll have to check with her agent, first. All waitresses have agents, right? They did in NYC), and the food. Mmm, good times.

Bid here.

INSPIRE ME THURSDAY

So the IT
folks are taking a little break, leaving the inspiration thing up to us. I'm not good at these things. Here are their questions, which lead to this AMAZING self-portrait:

1. What inspires me? I dunno.
2. Do I need to shake up my art? Uh, sure. I guess.
3. What is my passion? OK, that's an easy one. Ice cream. Wait... no... BBQ. Wait... no... this is an art blog... I gotta say something artistic... Neo-post-classical-modern-expressionism. And purty colors.
4.What are my favorite things about creating? Geez, don't know.
5. Least favorite? Man, I...
6. Why do I create? Aaaaargh!
7. Why am I an artist? Because, okay? Just because!
8. How do I describe my art? Stuff on paper. That's about it.
9. What are my goals? To attain a secure and responsible position within this organization. That one was easy - I just went on some job interviews.
10. My dreams? Can't say - I'm sleeping when that happens.

Whew. That was tough. I hope they get back from vacation soon. This line of questioning apparently turned my hair blue. And made my ears bigger - my ears are actually rather small. And you know what they say about guys with small ears. What? Could you repeat that?

TRIBAL ARTIST

Me, me, me. I can't stop painting my self portrait now that I've started. It's so... gratifying.

I must tell, you, the wife is none to pleased with these incredibly sexy images of me on ebay. She's quite concerned that I shall start receiving solicitations from women with impeccable taste. I can't say that I blame her. Look at me!

This is an image of me as I prepare to paint an aceo. I go down the the banks of the lake, and strip down to my pantaloons (no bells, no vest). The pencil moustache just wasn't edgy/tribal enough for me, so I stuck it through my nose. Painful, yes, but aesthetically superior. I bear the necklace of the shrunken head of former aceo competitor, Mick Reasor (mreas). This helps me summon his superior shading techniques. And then, I SING:

Je. suis. un artiste
Tres. sexy to say the least
Like some primal hairy beast
Devouring paint like it's a feast

Hammy, hommy, dippy do dee
Fie fie nippy flippy zip po fee
I paint for you
You bid for me
Help me pay that ebay fee!

To purchase this picture, click here.

BELLY PUNKER

I am a very serious normative artist. I have the fringe benefits to prove it. And, as every serious artist does, I, too, have painted a self-portrait.

If, as every serious artist does, I bare my dark, soulful soul in my work to the masses, it is only right I should display the container of said soulful soul in all it's glory. I bring you, ME. The BELLY PUNKER.

Mere prose does no justice. Forsooth, a poem:

BELLY PUNKER, BELLY PUNKER
In your pantaloons
BELLY PUNKER BELLY PUNKER
Dancing o'er the dunes
BELLY PUNKER BELLY PUNKER
In the mosh pit, mash
BELLY PUNKER BELLY PUNKER
Stylish pencil ... moustache
BELLY PUNKER BELLY PUNKER
Jingling pretty bells
BELLY PUNKER BELLY PUNKER
Aching soul doth quells
BELLY PUNKER BELLY PUNKER
After all the work he did
BELLY PUNKER BELLY PUNKER
Don't just watch, please bid.

Yes, I just wrote a poem about ME in the third person. That's what serious artists DO.

PS No, mom, I don't really have a purple mowhawk. Jeez.

To bid, click on the "What am I selling now" link on the right.

WHUPPED

Here's WHUPPED. Funny story behind this one: I was fighting in an exhibition. My opponent was some new guy from Gleason's. He wasn't supposed to be very good, and my trainer asked me to take it easy on him. Hey, I'm a nice guy. No problem. Well, long story short, I got thoroughly beaten. Embarrassingly thwacked. As the title suggests, whupped. This is a drawing of the phone picture I sent my wife right after the bout, hoping to elicit sympathy.

(Sold!)

BOXING PALS

I bring you: BOXING PALS. This is a doodle from a picture taken of me and a kid at a boxing tournament. I'm the bald looking dude on the right. The kid has crazy talent. I, on the other hand, have a talent for hurting the opponent's hands with my face. So now I'm drawing. (PS neither I nor the kid are really blue.)

I wanted to try out the new color pencils my wife got me to keep me out of her hair, and I think I used every color in the box. I'm not sure if I "get" color pencils yet; We'll see how long I stick with this medium.

(Sold!)