Monday I’ll have an image for you guys, but today I’d like you to meet my boss…
It’s been… interesting watching the responses to Chadwick Boseman’s passing. He was important to some people and overrated to others. But to me, he reinforced the idea that I can leave on my own terms.
It has a certain appeal.
In the last few years, I’ve had a classmate and a friend in the cosplay community die unexpectedly. By unexpectedly, I mean one I hoped would be okay, but knew she was battling illness; the other I had NO clue.
It sounds weird, but having a terminal diagnosis, at least to me, allows you to grieve you. You get to determine what your loved ones deal with, get yourself in order. It gives your remaining time clarity.
So yeah; I can see him not wanting the pity awards. Ledger did an awesome job as the Joker, but you always have to wonder how much of that was a lifetime achievement award. We were applauding a young talent, not knowing how briefly he would hear the praise and appreciation. He was our first REAL leading man superhero, who’s origins weren’t a gang or a ghetto. He’ll always be that for me.
Well, I finished! After several trips and lots of stress I can relax a little. So I spent the night finishing my painting and making a clip of my work 😊
I try to be positive as much as possible, but sometimes it’s a difficult task. But I’m starting to separate my grief from my daily life.
I’m already starting on a project that would have been timely a week ago. With video! Should be fun.
This week I learned that putting a house 1100 miles away that you inherited on the market is hard. I ended up driving to Alabama. I’ve had very little sleep, lol.
But enough of that. I’m doing another female bodybuilder, yay! I get asked if that’s all I draw or is it a fetish or something. The answer is no. But I have been a powerlifter since I was 16. So I have traveled in the same circles.
Plus, women in general tend to be more receptive to being drawn. It’s a little flattering and you get to see yourself the way that the artist does. Most women I’ve met who lift weights tend to be a bit more confident and self assured. They aren’t manly at all; most are so girly and giggly that it’s kinda sweet.
Also, a few haven’t had a lot of self esteem. Changing yourself, your body through an act of will is very empowering. Once you conquer you, you feel as though you can conquer anything!
So I end up trying to capture this for them. They get a lot of flak and unjustly so. Hopefully my art makes them feel appreciated.
My mom passed away.
It was Coronavirus. She fought for as long as she could. Over a month. All we could do was hope. We couldn’t visit, couldn’t console. We couldn’t stay in her home, our home. She passed away on the 4th of July.
So I haven’t been able to draw. We’ve been making arrangements, trying to settle things. It’s a surprisingly difficult thing.
I’ve been angry with her church. More specifically, with the arrogance and stupidity that lead to my 71 year old mother being infected during a pandemic.
I finally got back to drawing. Time never stands still. And no one is as isolated as they think.
I know…it seems inappropriate. I had to start with the last project I was given. It’s probably why it took me so long.
Anyway… thanks for being patient while I worked through my grief. You guys are the best, thank you.
Sorry I haven’t been around. I have drawn some art, but I had a reason to be away.
My mom contracted Covid-19.
So I have been doing my best to make decisions and help with her care, to make sure she RECEIVED care and to find a way for her to know that she was loved, even though we couldn’t be there physically.
She’s in her 70’s, but she is recovering. Also, small town America has no idea what’s about to happen to it. Her entire church (Yes, they STILL went to church) has been infected. Several have died.
So I continue to draw and edit videos. I have a time lapse video of this week’s drawing, but it’ll take awhile to compress it and speed it up.
Plus I’m told that I’m going between genres too often. Well, I try to be consistent, but I’ve been occupied. Hopefully things will get better.
Happy Mother’s Day! I got to talk with my mom bright and early yesterday. She’s in her 70’s but still has all of her brothers and sister and her mom. Clearly longevity is a family trait.
We were talking and she revealed that she keeps up with my art and loves seeing the stuff that I create. I was surprised by this, but in hindsight I should not have been.
She was my first fan.
When I was a toddler, she gave me my first paints. When I was in kindergarten, she used to put my pictures on the fridge. And when my teachers would complain about me drawing on homework, she bought me typing paper, which was a big deal for me. I had paper just to draw!
So yeah…my mom was always encouraging me. She was stern sometimes, keeping me on the right path, lol. But I never felt that my mom didn’t love me. And I had no idea that she follows ANY of this.
So thank you for allowing me to be me and teaching me the value in believing in yourself. I’ll never forget and always love you ❤️.
I had a dream about my Siberian Husky, Blizzard. We were going for a walk, except it started with driving with him in the passenger seat of my Amigo, top down as a puppy.
We ended up walking around my hometown. He was a full grown dog at that point in my dream. We were looking for my son. I woke up before we made it to my moms house.
When you have dreams like that, they carry a sense of dread. My Blizzard is gone; but I still feel him and that memory always comes with a slight sliver of pain and sadness. I miss him a lot.
So I decided to draw to help me grieve a little. It’s weird to me because I’ve seen the equivalent of a small village dead at once. I’ve seen severe human suffering.
But it’s always the small, personal wounds to my payche that stay. I feel like I should forget at some point.
But I probably won’t.
I hope I don’t.
Sorry about the background. I’d left the transparency, instead of adding a layer of white. For some reason, it’s expressing as black.
Anyway, here’s my first digital picture in awhile. My process is pretty simple, all things considered.
A line drawing by pencil, transferred to Photoshop as a layer, copied over as line work then filled with an establishing color.
It was a bit easier; I guess my skills have improved quite a bit, which makes me happy.
The work on this was relaxing for me. It was a nice return to why I loved drawing in the first place.
I wasn’t trying to please anyone. I just put myself in the moment and did my best. Seems like great advice and definitely the kind I should take.
The final result actually garnered me some interest with a gym interested in making shirts and stuff. The owner is a professional bodybuilder who likes my style.
So being myself paid off.
Okay, I’m writing this after not sleeping since 0200 Sunday. It’s Monday. So if I seem a little loopy, I’m kinda always that way.
This is my #earthburger. It’s an idea I came up with as a teenager in the 80’s and my original garnered me a few blue ribbons as a teen.
Wondering why I didn’t post it?
It was stolen. And as it turns out, my art teacher was the thief.
It’s a little complicated… first thing you need to know is that before I ever took a class, I could make my own art. The REAL reason I took her class was because my future ex-wife took the course.
I was a jock. And a metalhead. And black in a small Alabama town. So my interest were all over the place! But art was my first and best love.
My “teacher” saw my potential. After realizing that she’d never get the best out of me drawing bison skulls and old boots, I finally got to do what I wanted. And sit next to my girl.
My life was perfect.
I made the town paper for winning state awards. I got to travel. Had you asked me, I would have told you that I was going to the Art Institute of Atlanta after high school. Or the army, which was the family business.
So when I started asking about possible scholarships and letters of recommendation, she surprised me. She told me no. She said that she didn’t feel that I was right for art school. That it was a waste of time.
And that she wouldn’t recommend me.
I have/had a great poker face. But that hurt went through me. Seriously, it went through my feet. I felt like I was sinking, even though I wasn’t moving.
I stopped drawing. Completely. So she flunked me.
Fast forward a year and a half. I’m walking down the hallway of my Alma Mater, after coming home after Desert Storm. I’m a paratrooper, so I get lots of accolades from teachers and friends. And then I see it.
A Ferrari F40 that I drew. It was one of my first experience with Prismacolor pencils and I used ALL the red, lol. I had been told that my art was stolen. And yet there it was, with a ribbon on it from a couple of months prior.
I learned later that she never sent any of the African American artist in her program to college. Had a few tell me that she said that they weren’t “good enough”. A few are professional artist.
I learned from that. I’m sure that current me could definitely get over self doubt; there’s a lifetime of experience. But I always remember that part of my life and I try to encourage those with gifts to believe in them.
No matter what.