OMG PUPPY!!!!!!!11

I've very lucky to live next to a beautiful natural area boardering the Colorado River. About a week ago I was hiking back there with my dog, Brutus, when we found a little puppy all by his lonesome. He was scared and angry at first (it probably thought Brutus was going to eat him!), but soon calmed down. After I began to pet the pup, he dropped the werewolf fascade and warmed up to us immediately. I searched the area for its mother or sibblings, but found none; I can only assume he was abandoned out there.

I brought the half-starved guy home where he scarfed down his first meal. He was weak and still frightened and would find safe little nooks in my backyard to crawl up in and sleep. He was filthy though, so I gave him a bath, and let him recover in style, wrapped up in a warm towel on my bed. He peed on my bed in appreciation.

Since then he's been examined by the vet, given his shots and house-trained. His attitude has become considerably happier and more playful. He's very friendly and intelligent. He's a Black Labrador.

Although it will break my heart to give him away, I simply cannot keep him. It shouldn't be hard to find this awesome guy a good home though. If you know one, stake your claim now!

5 Signs SXSW Has Arrived

1. It took me twice as long to get to work last night
Nuff' said.

2. I almost saw a fight last night
Positioned at my valet booth, I have a unobstructed view through the window of a bar. Listen: Big, ape-like man is apparently acting surly and misogynistic. Female bartender interjects on female customers behalf, tries to take Apeman's beer away. Apeman refuses. Female bartender sticks her fist in his beer, and tells him to "drink it now". Apeman becomes enraged. Apeman is thrown out of bar by 4 smaller men. Words are had. Apeman kicks a guy in the balls. More threats. Apeman finally comprehends that he's not wanted. Apeman reluctantly sulks away.

3. I was almost in a fight last night
Two women and a man approach me and ask if I would call them a cab. This is generally bad etiquette since valets only have their personal cell phones, so why not use your own? I skirt the issue by telling them I don't have a cell phone, which is the absolute truth. The woman gives me a scowl. "Really?", she says, not as in "Really, you don't have a cell phone?", but more as in "Really, you're going to lie to my face? You ought to to come up with a better excuse because everybody has a cell phone. And you look ridiculous in that day-glow yellow vest with reflective stripes." I try to convince her. I say, "No, REALLY I don't have a cell phone." But really I'm saying "No REALLY I don't have a cell phone, and I know I look ridiculous in this vest but you don't have to be a bitch about it." At this point she makes a sound with her mouth which is hard to describe, but everyone is familiar with. It kinda sounds like "uuhh!". Imagine a trust-fund baby with entitlement issues learning that Starbucks has run out of their chosen coffee. That's the sound she made. They proceed to push rudely past me without even saying farewell. They've essentially called me a no good liar.

Now, I'm pretty laid back guy who generally avoids conflict, so I'm going to blame my next move on Apeman's testosterone laced pheromone which still clung to the air. As they walked away I said, "With an attitude like that, why would we?" (call them a cab). Admittedly, it was bratty thing to say, but at least it was reasoned and somewhat intelligent; moreso than calling them "bitches" or "assholes" or something. The man took a few more steps before deciding that he should probably stand up for his girlfriends. He turns around in the middle of the street and starts doing the whole "You got a problem?!" routine. I can't remember what I said to him next, but it must've been pretty good, because it turned him into an Apeman and caused him to come nearer. Now for the uninitiated: when Man A aggressively approches Man B, Man B cannot back down if he hopes to maintain a shred of pride. I almost said "shred of dignity", but it's mostly about pride, stupid male pride. So although the guy was bigger than me, I didn't back down. It helped having my co-worker, Greg, there. And then: "Comeon! I'll take both of you!!!" I'm starting to like these odds, but trying to resist being transformed into an Apeman. We're also giving him the opportunity to throw the first blow, lest this goes to court. It's probably good nothing happened, though he did call us pussies as he walked away. 

Human behavior is so fascinating.

4. I socialized with other human beings over alcohol last night
Perhaps our confrontation with Apeman Jr. was a bonding experience of sorts; after work Greg offered to introduce me to some good bars and people. At one point found myself walking down east 6th singing harmony for a rousing rendition of "I Want It That Way" by the Backstreet Boys.

5. It's stunningly beautiful today
The SXSW people really couldn't pick a better time, the weather is spectacular right now. Warm days, cool nights, and a wonderful breeze blowing through the freshly sprouted leaves.

Ugly Old Doodles

I attend a monthly Illustration critique group with some fantastic Austin artists. Last meeting, our fearless leader, Marsha Riti, suggested we bring work which has influenced us and talk about why it's inspired us. It was a great idea. For my part I brought in Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein, and a book of illustrations by the amazing William Steig. I told everybody that I enjoy loose drawings with a sort of ugliness. I'm unsure why I like "ugly" drawings. Perhaps because they seem more real? Make you slightly uncomfortable? Or challenge the viewer to search for beauty behind the obvious? Damn, if I had only gone to art school I could come up with an even more pretentious and confusing analysis!!

Anyway, this is a recent doodle from my sketchbook. As strange and perhaps ugly as this old woman is, I love her.

Here are some drawings from William Steig. His loose portraits are downright crude -- and absolutely masterful. Rendering realistic hands are obviously not high on his agenda, but does it matter? With his unchained line these characters feel alive, their personality popping off the page.

I'm slowly learning to tune in to my body as I draw. When working on a drawing I perceive as difficult, my entire body tenses, afraid of making a mistake. Of course nothing good is born of fear.

Just Have Fun!

With so much information rattlin' around my noggin' since the conference, I've been stressed lately. There are so many things that must be done in order to become successful! I must begin social networking! Finish a story! Learn how to create Apps for the Apple and Android market! Improve my style! This morning I took a walk by town lake and meditated. While doing so, I realized that all this worry about calculating my moves and becoming successful is making my life miserable. If I'm not making art for the LOVE of it, why even bother? Who cares about success if you're miserable? You only get one life, wouldn't you rather spend it being happy?

At the conference I found myself comparing my work to others, judging my art for it's lack of anatomical correctness or general "sloppiness". Consequently when I returned home to draw I began tightening up my lines, trying to make the forms look "right". Nothing kills my creativity more than trying to make things look "right". Heck, trying at all is detrimental to my work!! It's when I let go of all preconceived notions and allow myself to have fun watching the lines spill onto the page - that's when I produce art that I'm happy with.

Although I do admire artwork that is tight and clean, I have to remember that that's simply not me. The strength of my style lies in it's looseness and immediacy. And who's gonna tell Quentin Blake or Shel Silverstein they can't draw? Only a fool, that's who! Today I drew this cityscape. And yeah, the perspective is inconsistent and the colors could be better, but you know what? I had a fun doing it. So all you voices in my head can GO TO HELL!

SCBWI... Conference... Yadda, yadda... whatever.

So the big Austin SCBWI conference was this weekend, and man did it suck. Not the conference itself - it was fine - but my experience of the conference, for which I had very high expectations. Let's go back a moment and revisit last year. 2010. My first professional conference. I walk in scared, timid, and green as the grass which waves in spring. My "portfolio" was scant, I had no expectations. About mid-day one of the guest speakers, Mr. Mark McVeigh (an agent in New York with extensive publishing experience), approches me and compliments my work. We briefly chat and he hands me his card. "Holy horse turds," I thought, "I've been discovered my very first try!"

The encounter was ultimately fruitless (for reasons I won't go into), but nonetheless had been tremendously encouraging, and perhaps set me up to expect a certain level or recognition at these events. This weekend that recognition did not come; I was not appreciated by industry professionals, nor did I win 1st, 2nd, or 3rd place in the portfolio contest. Overall I was disappointed since I feel my work has improved enormously over the past year.

But this is just my injured ego talking, and that's okay - I'm not going to pretend it doesn't exist. I'm gonna whine and sulk and throw my spaghetti at the wall. After that, I'm going to blog about all the GOOD which came from this conference, from which I did learn a lot. So stay tuned.

"Blue Period"
Unappreciated portfolio piece, consequently how I feel. 

Snow in Texas!?

How dare winter poke its frigid nose into my warm winter home! Actually, it's pretty neat. It very rarely snows in Austin; this is the first time it's happened since I moved here almost 4 years ago.

It was especially exciting for Austin's children, many whom have quite possibly never seen snow. There was a buzz in my neighborhood as people made snowmen, had snowball fights, and slid down hills. Of course in Texas, snow sleds are as hard to come by as an Inuit's access to bikinis, but the kids made due.

It was also Brutus's first time seeing fresh snow. He liked it a lot. He even got into the snowball fights! Below you can see him throwing a snowball at Allison!

Gonna start blogging more art related stuff soon. Austin's annual SCBWI conference is February 19th, and I've been working to get a knockout portfolio together. Been more stressful than fun so far - hopefully I can change that dynamic coming down the home stretch.

Christmas Leftovers

I started planning my Christmas cards nearly 3 weeks in advance, but a combination of procrastination and illness kept me from sending more than I did. If you didn't get one, I'm sorry. Perhaps one day you'll be surprised by a custom designed Labor Day card (which will feel good, because everyone's lonely on Labor Day). Here are some cards I did send.

This one was for my Aunt, who spoiled me rotten last time I visited her. I wanted to thank her for all the great stuff she got me, so I drew a picture of me using all her gifts at the same time! Yes, that's a juicer, new eye-glasses, an electric toothbrush, a warm fuzzy hat, and brazil nuts. She didn't buy me the anarchy t-shirt.

This next card was for my dad and doubled as a coupon. I wanted to make him feel like he'd won a Wonka-esque prize when really I promised him a website long ago. He's a musician, and this was my attempt to visualize how "plugged in" we are.

Lastly, this one was for my mom, whose Great Dane passed away this year. I always wanted to ride Jasper, and I thought baby Jesus probably would too. I hope baby Jesus has a sense of humor.

During this process I discovered how much I enjoy making art for people. Aimlessly doodling in my sketchbook is beneficial, but taking an idea from conception to completion, and then giving it as a gift... that's a real joy.

Edit 1/16/11 - Props to my girlfriend, Allison, for the baby Jesus riding Jasper thing. I love stealing her ideas and pretending they were mine.

Summer Art Round-Up

I'm back in Austin and unfortunately don't hate it as much as expected. After crawling out of my forest home, I thought perhaps I'd find city life despicable, making my choice of returning to Oregon easy. No such luck. While in six short months Austin has grown and gained noticeably more boutique shops, traffic, and jerks from Los Angeles gentrifying the east side, I still really love this town.

Had a chance to flip though my summer sketchbook recently and wanted to purge some of my older favorites before the new work starts pouring in. Comparing these drawings to the previous year's (summer '09), I see a pretty huge difference. More confidence, greater personality, refinement of style. I'm excited to see where this is going.

(click for higher quality images)

Old Time Love Story

I've been visiting my Aunt in Palm Springs the last few days. We've been having a wonderful time going through letters my Grandmother and Grandfather exchanged prior to being married. Their correspondence reads like a novel - full of big dreams, loneliness, humor and yearning.

It was in a Arkansas melon patch that Alpha first laid eyes on Lloyd. She caught him eating the melons with his bare hands, and years later was fond of telling her grandchildren, "he was the ugliest man I'd ever laid eyes on!" At 17 years old, they parted when Lloyd's family moved to Oklahoma, and thus began the written correspondence. The first letter was from my Grandfather: 42 short poems. Check out these gems:

I love you little, I love you lots

my love for you would fill ten pots

nine tin buckets

eight tin cans

seven wash kettles

and six dishpans.

Long may you live

happy may you be

loved by all others

but mostly by me.

The sea is wide, the sea is deep

in your arms I long to sleep.

Long is the road with many a crook,

I hope someday to be your cook.

Grandpa, that is such false advertising! She always cooked for you!

Even though they loved each other from the beginning, they didn't drop everything to be together. He struggled to finish his (8th grade) education, then tried to join the Civilian Conservation Corps (there was a long wait list - this was during the great depression, mind you), and considered joining the army. She continued her education while working as a housekeeper and eventually became a schoolteacher. They rarely visited each other, relying on letters for communication. My Grandfather felt like he must make something of himself before he could be with Grandma, so he moved to California to make his fortune. The fortune wouldn't be made until much later, with the assistance of Alpha, but he made enough and experienced all sorts of difficult and interesting jobs and characters. Finally, in their letters, you can see how the "blues" of not being together became too great to bear, and they were married. The letters stop.

It strikes me how long they remained apart, despite their longings for each other. For 4 years they followed their difficult, separate paths. Of course the struggle didn't end with marriage. I think being apart actually prepared them to be together. They were married 61 years.

Learning to Live Again

It's been over 2 years since I've convened with my notebook in a meaningful way. I had forgot what a powerful tool it is; a place for self-examination, personal therapy, random thoughts, random-er doodles, incubating ideas, creative freedom, and non-judgement. It feels good to resume this relationship, notebook and I. Who knows what will come of it?

University of Life

Tomorrow, after nearly 5 months on the farm, I'm finally headed home. Yet as my departure nears, I find myself doubting: is Austin really home? After all, it's no accident I've spent almost half a year in rural Oregon. To me, popular culture has never seemed so foreign, and I suspect I'm in for a shock and something resembling depression upon returning to the city. We all learn to acclimate to the situations we find ourselves in, and it probably won't be long until I'm once again comfortable in the concrete jungle; content with movie theaters, art museums, and rock shows. But there's no denying: the farm beckons me. It's in my heart and it won't let go.

This summer, Farmer Steve was laid up with gout for a month, completely out of commission. The other day he apologized that he was unable to teach me skills during this time, to which I replied, "Don't worry about it. I've learned more here than in a hundred classrooms." And it's absolutely true. Perhaps unbeknownst to him, the farm skills I've learned are the least of it. The things I've learned most are less tangible, but perhaps more important. Things like: generosity, how to get along with others, patience, work ethic. When I see Steve pick up someone's slack without complaint, or offer to clean dishes that aren't his - I greatly admire him, and find myself emulating that behavior. Here, at a little farm in southern Oregon, I feel like I'm becoming the man I want to be, and that is very satisfying.

I find myself loving Deb and Steve like family, and the feeling must be mutual, because they've offered to contribute resources and expertise to help me build my very own cabin down by the goat barn. Fifty yard walk to the river. Spectacular view of Hope Mountain. The opportunity to become a self-sufficient human with a variety of skills, immersed in an amazing community of like-minded individuals. Hard to say no.

The other night, I camped down with the goats, in a golden grassy field adjacent their pen. Under the stars, warmed by fire, I made a long list of reasons to stay. Tomorrow they will become reasons to return.

The Goat Barn

The Late Harvest

Been working like a dog lately... 12 hour days are becoming the norm. I'm probably too tired to write a coherent blog post, but I'll give it a shot.

Work has been coming in two forms: unpaid community volunteer work and very well paid medical marijuana work. I guess the two achieve some kind of taoist, universal balance? The karma of selfless good deeds has wrought personal abundance? Beats me... all I know is I'm too exausted to draw comparisons, make decent metaphors, or spell.

Yeah. So on Sunday (the big 10-10-10), a woman in the community organized a very successful event (in collaboration with 350.org) in which people came out and helped clear the hike & bike trail along Takilma Road. My day was spent reclaiming swaths of the trail from overgrown blackberry and ceanothus, throwing the cuttings into a large trailer, and taking it to the goats. Imagine if a big dumb baboon brought you your favorite food on a silver platter all day long. That's what it was like being a goat on Sunday.

On Monday, a bunch of us volunteers went gleaning at a local farm. We combed through a gigantic mono-cultured corn field, and left with a few truck-beds of very nice corn which we distributed to food banks, charities, and schools. It was neat driving around delivering corn we harvested. I felt like Santa Clause.

Gleaning: Hard on the back!

Then today (and for the forseeable future), I did extremely boring and monotonus work for ridiculous sums of money. Actually, it's not so ridiculous if you think about it... nobody is gonna do this type of work for less than $20/hr, really. Unless you live in another country or came here from another country. It's soul sucking work and no self respectin' American should have to do it! It's work that transforms you from a living, breathing, possibly interesting human being ---> into an automoton.

Yes, but most of us learn that survival is toil sooner or later. I keep reminding myself that I'm putting in my toil now, rather than later. If I work enough in the next few weeks, I'll have my rent covered in Austin for a long time. I may not even have to get a job when I get back. I keep thinking about how nice that'll be. Keep thinking how much time it'll allow me to work on my art. It's what keeps me going.

But man! I need a friend who's into massage! My neck and shoulders are like rocks! I would give anything for a 30 minute massage: cash, cooking, cleaning, foot rubs, sexual favors, whatever you want!

Strong Women

During my stay at the Frog Farm I've gained a tremendous amount of respect for its owner, Deb Lukas. She's a tough gal. As a single mother she lived in a single room in a cabin high in the mountains. Raising her child, she didn't even have a car. Imagine having to bicycle over 10 miles to the nearest grocery store - with your baby! Since then, she's bought her own land, acquired an education in Herbalism, opened her own medical practice and herbal pharmacy, and with the help of her partner, Steve, is transforming a rather arid & rocky piece of property into a thriving permaculture farm. As if that weren't enough, she's also founded a non-profit whose goal is education, community building, and creating sustainability within the Illinois Valley. While many find her strong personality not-to-their-taste, she doesn't seem to care. She's on a mission and won't be stopped.

Deb's not the only one. I've begun noticing that Takilma is full of strong women. Women who have started their own businesses - growing gourmet garlic, raising Alpacas, baking! Women who sit on the boards of the Spiral Living Center and the Dome School. Women who ensure the children get a quality education and who put their energy into bringing healthy and affordable food into the community via the local food Co-Op. Meanwhile the men do their men stuff - tilling the soil, cutting wood, growing medical marijuana - all while benefiting tremendously from the efforts of the amazing women in this community. What lucky guys we are!

The other day I played The Girl Stands Up To Me Now for farmer Steve. After, I asked him what the benefits are to having a strong woman. In his humble imparting-great-wisdom-to-you-in-so-few-words way, he said, "It's nice having someone to help row the boat." Indeed.

As long as you're going the same direction!

The Artist Who Wouldn't Give His Heart Away

Click image to view online booklet.

Happy trails to you, until... we meet... again.

I arrived at Frog Farm a week ago, and it kinda felt like coming home. Returning to the farm is like returning to simplicity. Gone is the hectic routine of city life. Gone is it's complex obligations and varied pleasures. Instead it's straightforward work (taking care of animals, shoveling dirt, plastering walls) and simple pleasures (a homemade meal, fresh fruit, sitting around the campfire).

New interests replace old habits. Where once I spent upwards of 4 hours a day on the computer, now 1 hour seems indulgent. Farm-work is hard, and free time feels too precious to spend online. Wouldn't you rather go swim in the river? Or enjoy a hefeweizen and orange, while drawing in the shade?

This is a long-winded way of saying that I'm discontinuing the blog for a while. This doesn't mean that I'm putting illustration on the back-burner. It just means I'd rather spend time actually doing art, or reading a book, or making homemade ice-cream with farm-grown strawberries. Besides, I don't have a scanner to show y'all what I'm doodling anyway.

If the mood strikes, I may upload some farm photos or do a little creative writing over at my old blog. To my illustration buddies: keep doing what you do, and I'll return (with a lot more material and a few more chops) in Autumn!

On the Road, Day 1

I write this from a McDonald's, how exotic! (hey, YOU try finding a cafe, or anyplace with free internet in bumf*ck Texas!) Even worse, I just finished eating dinner here. Funny thing is I knew it would make me sick, but I did it anyway. Ugh.

Been driving all day, and I'm almost to outta Texas. A quick little jaunt through the panhandle of Oklahoma and I'll be in Colorado. A storm looks to be moving in from the west. Could hit rain. This photo taken minutes ago shows the scenic situation.

Rain sure would put a damper on things (sorry, couldn't help it :). I'm planning to sleep in the back of my truck which is protected by a camper shell. Unfortunately the truck bed is only 6 feet long, and I'm 6'3", so often I'll sleep with the tailgate down to accommodate my height. Not recommended if it's raining.

Today I got pulled over in Podunk, Texas for going 46 in a 35. If you know me you know I dislike authority and when confronted my first inclination is to rebel (or at least be rude), but luckily I've mastered these impulses and learned feign respect. Naturally, being where we were, the cop had a slow country drawl and macho swagger about him, but luckily since I'm white, relatively clean-cut, said "sir" and had all my papers in order, the cop let me off with a warning. Perhaps I'm stereotyping the officer, but as I drove away, I wondered if I would have been given the same leniency had I been black or hispanic.

Do you know that many gas stations don't offer water from the soda machines anymore? They make you buy the bottled stuff! Isn't that messed up!?

Ok, I'm rambling now. But consider how my only traveling companion is a dog and maybe you'll understand! The forced boredom does has its benefits though. Today I found myself daydreaming, visually journeying through a picture book I've been working on. It's fun. Kinda like working on a word & picture puzzle in your brain.

Til next time! (hopefully from a fancy french bakery!)
Dallion

On the Road Again

Tomorrow morning, bright and early, my dog Brutus and I hit the road. We bid Texas farewell for the summer and head toward the cooler climes of Oregon, where we'll be earning our room and board on an organic farm. As I packed today and prepared my room to sublet, I snapped two photos I wanted to share. First, my collection of books.

And these are just the keepers -- the other half of my collection were sold to Half-Price Books for a mere $60. As I comb through my collection trying to anticipate which books I might want to have this summer (I can only take a few, after all), it makes me reconsider my aversion to ebooks. I like the feel of a real book in my hands, but wouldn't it be nice to have an entire library at my fingertips? And digital books sure are more environmentally friendly -- not only from conserving trees, but fuel from moving these heavy things around!

The next picture is the stack of sketchbooks I've gone through in the last 3 years (actually this isn't all of them... I found 5 or 6 more after I took this shot). My sparse style may lead some to believe that I just fell off the truck, but as this photo shows, my drawing technique has been hard won.

98% of the drawings on these pages are an embarrassment, but I think that's a good thing. It means progress, often rapid. While today I may be pleased with the images in my sketchbook, a year from now I might grimace at their amateurish quality. I sincerely hope so.

Well goodnight all! I'll try to do some blogging from the road. If not, certainly from the farm!

Dear Mr. Landlord,

For us, a 12 month lease is preferable - but I'm not sure how much we're willing to move on rent.

You must remember that the exact reason we stay here and tolerate the poor condition of the house is because of the affordable rent. The house is full of struggling artists and musicians who would prefer to pay less rent than live in nicer conditions. I think you'd have a hard time renting it to anyone else without doing some major renovations.

For one, not only is the foundation uneven (giving the floors a slight slant), but also there are literal holes in the floor (especially in the bathroom and kitchen) and cracks around the baseboards which allow all types of insects access to the house - especially cockroaches, which kinda freak me out. We're also visited from above by some kind of rodents living in the attic. It could be rats or even squirrels or possums that have found a hole in the roof. I don't know, but they sound big as they scurry around up there.

Also, the house is not energy efficient, and with 5 rooms needing 5 air conditioners and 5 furnaces, our utility bills are ridiculously high in the summer and winter.

Finally, I'd ask you to consider how despite the condition of the house, as long as I've lived here we haven't asked you for a single thing. We battle the pests as well as we can and we even do our own repairs, going as far as calling our own plumber and replacing a broken fridge.

All this said, I also understand that housing prices have risen in Austin, and don't expect that we should immune. If it means you'll sign another 12 month lease, I'll offer $1375/mo, up from $1250. If not, I'd prefer to rent on a month-to-month basis.

Sincerely,
Dallion

Goodbye Dolphins!

These are the wonderful children I've been reading stories to for the past 4 months. They are an amazing bunch, and I've felt privileged to be able to join their imaginative ranks every week.

Even though we spend only a half hour together per week, it didn't take long before a bond had been created. Without even intending it we had somehow snuck into each others hearts. I was particularly enamored with Ruby, the little girl in the blue shirt.

Her intellect, as young as it is (4 years old!), would constantly amaze me. Ruby would often chime in with astute observations, frequently displaying a very sophisticated sense of humor. For example, once I was reading a book about the different kinds of boats - sail boats, fishing boats, freighters, etc... When I got to the ferry boat, I asked the children if they knew what a ferry boat carried. Of course I was looking for the correct and boring answer: people & cars. But Ruby shouted, "Fairies!", then broke out laughing, as if she knew she was being funny. Of course it was funny... and brilliant.

Another time I was reading a simple book repeating a simple pattern. First the seed, then the flower. First the caterpillar, then the butterfly. First the egg, then the chicken. "No!" interrupted Ruby, thoughtful frustration all over her face, "First the chicken!"

I've been presenting storytimes for almost two years, and I've learned an important lesson about writing books for children. You can't talk down or slip anything past them. Their minds are active and observant. Far more than their adult counterparts.

Today was my last day presenting storytime to the Dolphins. It was hard to say goodbye. They gave me a handmade "Thank You" card and I brought my camera. I'll miss you guys!

Sneak Peek at "Project X"

A few weeks ago, a little kernel of an idea came to me. As I explored the idea further it seemed like it could be developed into a fairly interesting story, one that has personal significance, yet hopefully others can find meaning in. So for the last couple weeks I've been doing character design and putting my creations in a variety of situations in hopes of getting to know them better. I've also been letting the amorphous story roll around in my head and sort itself out. Tonight I laid out the story page-by-page in rough thumbnail form. The process is unfolding and I'm happy with what I have so far. Hooray!

Here's a peak at some early conceptual art: