Puppets

I took my art off the walls of Sq. Records. I was glad I put them up. Thank you for all the support. I even had someone tell me they would pray for me, to which God, religion and for what I don't know, but I hope its for something nice.

I'm getting geared up for Halloween and to try and make some more puppets. I attended a workshop during the Akron Storyteller Festival a few weeks ago. The workshop was led by Willy Claflin who demonstrated his use of puppets in his story telling. I really enjoyed it and it taught me one negative aspect of ventriloquism I never thought about, that most of the time people are watching the ventriloquist not the vent figure (dummy) to catch him moving his lips, which is true. So I'm really excited to get back to work on doing something with Francois, making some other puppets like an iguana named Iggy and this dragon... whom I'm not sure will work out or not. I don't plan on attending many Medieval fairs so a dragon might be unnecessary.

Here are some pictures of the yet to be created puppet Iggy. Which version should I go for - the white paper Iggy or the Iggy 7:16? Please remember this is just a concept and that Francois needs a nemesis, so he will have Loki and Iggy to play off of. Loki will come later.

A Little Taste

I thought I'd share some illustrations I've been working on for my dummy book to use for the children's book I wrote. I've had to rush to get some work done before the class is over and I'm not sure as to how the final look will go, this is just a work in progress.

Time isn't on my side

Recently I've been blogging about the past, something that is not always easy to forget and sometimes even harder to remember. This weekend Meghan and I were talking and we've been freaking out because the older we get the faster time seems to go. Originally scientists like Archimedes developed machines to tell time as a way to help business. Time and money have gone together for so long its recognized as common law marriage in most states - except for Texas. As far as measurement goes I'm only interested in two things, I want to know the fastest way to get somewhere and I want to know when I get to leave work. How we experience time is much more interesting to me than the measurement of it. I just value my time so much it is ridiculous how much time I spend thinking about it and how I imagine that I'm in a foot race against it only my feet have been unknowingly tied together by ignorance and circumstance. I think we value time so much because it is in such short supply and we never know when it is going to run out.


Father Time looks as though he is in no way going to give it up for free.





Quit taking all my time jerk!

The Joke's on you.

After seeing the latest installment in the Batman movie franchise and being absolutely blown out of the water by the writing, the sets, the dialogue, the costumes, special effects, the acting and the perfect performance by Heath Ledger I was off to the market to fetch some carrots and noodles for a roast my mother was cooking when I happened to catch out of the corner of my eye a flier that stopped me dead in my tracks.

Now I've heard about tourists visiting foreign countries and accidentially "rescuing" or picking up cats or dogs believed to be stranger versions of the American counterparts only to discover later that the cat they thought was so cute was actually a rat, but this is Ohio and I don't know who in the hell could ever confuse a possum for cat!

I thought, this has to be a joke there is no way someone could not realize that when the cat they thought they rescued refused to use a litter box and smelled like garbage began snarling at the them that they might have something other than a cat on their hands. I had to call. So I dialed the number to speak with "Mike". I had to know if this was a joke or not, but the mystery stopped there for the number lead to a voicemail box where I left my message saying how funny I thought his flier was that he was confusing a wild possum with lost domesticated feline.

Batman Extravaganza

In May of 1986 I was involved in a school program that tried to support children who demonstrated intellectual or creative potential. It was in this class that we did special art projects and it was in this class that I had the opportunity to put on a play. I wrote or gave significant input into the creation of a play based on the disappearance of a butterfly that required the assistance of Batman and Robin to help locate the missing insect. I of course made Batman while Brad Kittle, I believe, made and performed the puppet Robin. We made our crude puppets out of paper, plaster and paint as our art teacher, Mrs. Wilkinson, helped us with decorating them. We performed the show for the kindergarten class below us to rave reviews in a one day only performance that had as much historical relevancy as the Apollo 11 moon landing of 1969. I still have that puppet and one day it just may be on loan to the Smithsonian.

I wish I could find the pictures of me holding the puppet after the show so you could see me in my white jacket, gray pants and pink shirt- guess who I wanted to look like.

The pictures of me dressed up in my first Batman costume sweating profusely from the forehead are missing as well. The purpose of all this is to demonstrate my excitement over the latest installment to the Batman franchise.

I can remember watching television on the floor of my grandmother's house when I first heard the news that Micheal Keaton was to play Batman. I was peeved, that role was to be mine. I cursed Michael Keaton and this director Tim Burton for taking away my chance to play the role I was born to play. In 1989 my father took Keith and I to see that movie and during dinner at Red Lobster before the show my father taught my brother and I how to flirt by demonstrating this to us with the help of the young waitress waiting on our table. He seriously said, "I'm going to teach you how to flirt." I've never needed coaching since then. Score one for Jim on the parenting skills list please. I loved the first two Batman movies and the rest, like most people, I could go without. Then, in 2005 that mastermind Chris Nolan got a hold of the franchise and turned it around making it good again. My disappointment at the realization that I wouldn't play Bats came flashing back to me. I've dreamed of being an actor since I was young and I always had the hope that I'd be discovered like Christopher Reeve and given the role of a lifetime, so when my second favorite character was picked to be in the next movie I was again crushed knowing I'd never play the part of the Joker. At least the part went to a deserving and incredibly talented individual like Heath Ledger. When I heard that he had the part I knew he would smash it out of the park spanking Jack Nicholson on the buttocks while he rounds the bases. Tomorrow I go see the movie with my father and I'm as excited as I was at ten years old standing in line in front of Movie World waiting to see my favorite superhero come to life on the big screen.

Association

Last night I was thinking of the heat and the summer and how I could make a piece of art that wraps up all of those things that come to mind when I think of summer - mischief, the river and the way the water flows slowly as if it is too hot and tired to move and the sun is setting over the tree-line just in front of Copperweld while the mayflies rise from the water, lightning bugs in a mason jar,the Skyway Drive-in and swinging on the swings on the playground before the movie starts, hide and go seek in my neighbor Lindsey's yard, swimming over at Tom and Joe's, bike rides, the county fair with its giant bunnies, display of bees, the freak show, the demolition derby and the familiar smell of manure, not to forget; poison ivy, jumbo jet stars and To Kill a Mockingbird. I have no idea how to interpret all of those things into a bizarre painting but those are the things I associate with summer. That and Porky.

Porky was a wild cat who was feral and quite possibly infected with rabies. Whenever Porky found his way into our area it was as if a ferocious beast from some fairytale had found its way into the village to feed on the livestock. We would run inside and close the doors trying not to wet our pants. The reason we feared this cat was due to his awful behavior, rude manners and his inability to die. My father, like Atticus Finch, had - on numerous occasions, attempted to kill Porky. I cannot tell you the methods employed by my father due to the likelihood he could be convicted of animal cruelty in some court presided by Chrissy Hynde as judge with Pamela Anderson acting as bailiff. So, until the statute of limitations is expired I will forgo such detail. Remember, this was the early 80's, Cujo had just come out on VHS and that's what people did back then. We also didn't have car seats, one of the car doors wouldn't shut properly and we never wore seat belts - welcome to Warren 1983. We don't know whatever happened to that cat, but I wouldn't doubt that it had indeed escaped from hell and that to this day it lurks in the bushes across the street and in the rusted fields of an abandoned steel mill.

Summer Specfizzle

July has finally realized it is July and has quickly gotten its act together and turned up the heat. It has been an incredibly bizarre summer with temperatures and weather patterns behaving like unsupervised children on a high fructose corn syrup binge. I wish I had something new to post, something that represents summers to me, but alas I have nothing. I'll have to work on that one when I get a minute. Here is a doodle to fill that void.

The Jig is Up!

In a failed attempt at an experiment in selling art without friends or family acknowledgment, I'd like to take a moment to tell you, my family, that I'm well into my second week of having my art on display and for sale at Square Records in Highland Sq. Akron, Ohio. Meghan put me up to it months ago so I've been feverishly trying to make items that would accommodate the eclectic tastes of the neighborhood and that match my artistic style (whatever that is). Hence, the partial purpose of this blog - I've posted several of the works here. Your comments have been my testing ground. I wanted to see if I could produce art that was aesthetically pleasing, easy to produce and priced just right. As of yet, I've sold three pieces. Two, I believe, to my sister in-law. I didn't want to tell family about the exhibit so that I could see if strangers were into my art and to be able to assign the pieces some type of value. I think I went awry somewhere and it may take many more clinical trials before I have any real evidence of financial success. I think my experiment in the absurd is even more appropriate since I'm trying to sell art in a bohemian, not really affluent, mostly young (poor) neighborhood during a recession. The beautiful part about this was the chance for exposure, a possible sale and to acclimate myself to the vulnerability of putting myself and my art out in the physical world for criticism. No one has signed my guest book, except for a drawing that was possibly done by my niece, which I loved.

I'm busy putting together a dummy book for my children's illustration class, so be patient Jacob and Richard if there isn't a video of a hungry monster guarding treasure for awhile. Thanks for the kind comment Lauren.

The Hunt

I'm not sure where this is going. I wanted to write a young adult novel about a girl who goes to live with her Aunt Dorothy who is a librarian and rather eccentric. While there the girl, Karen, befriends a boy named Tommy and the two spend their boring and uneventful evenings riding bikes about town. One breezy afternoon while she and her aunt are playing cards an unexpected visitor arrives. I tried to write a short story called the - Angry Apparition, but I never got around to it, I'm leaning toward something more complex. Excuse this prattle, I'm just trying to document as much as possible. Here are some sketches and doodles of some ideas.

The drawing in the corner is the original idea I came up with about a strange visitor who tries to swindle Aunt Dorothy, now I'm thinking of secret societies, demons, and human possession.


Here we have two different pictures with one of Karen behind Tommy and the demons on patrol.


















Working out the look of Karen and Tommy.
















Murdoch will be the evil demon lurking for decades in the body of man who acts as a vessel for the demon to be here on Earth - or not.














When I came up with the idea of Murdoch I pictured him depicted two ways; one way as how everyone else would see him - as a strange hermit type who always has stray cats outside his door, and the other as the children see him: as a skinny, sickly, sinister demon. He would eat stray cats and song birds. I have a few doodles of him here. The children first noticed him on a bike ride through the neighborhood.

Viva la Revolucion

As we celebrate our independence this weekend by drinking massive amounts of alcohol, eating hormonal and anti-biotic induced overly processed meats, getting sun burned and secretly resenting forced social interactions with strangers while watching fireworks and getting a major confidence boost by witnessing firsthand the poor parenting skills of those seated right next to you who are completely oblivious to you quietly judging and laughing at them, let us not forget the already forgotten debt we owe to the French. The French influenced our democracy, they helped fight the British and they... well that's all I've got, way to go public school systems!

Happy birthday baby brother!

This is a picture of the two of us together on an underwater adventure. It appears that Keith is about to get attacked by some weird fish creature.
"Keith - watch out!"

My baby brother turns 27 today and as I sit here thinking of the two of us aging I reminisce about our childhood together. I swear I can remember going to see him in the hospital when he was born and looking at a room full of babies and being sad over the cries of the newborns and thinking someone was hurting my new baby brother. I would have been two years old at the time and no one believes that I could remember that.

Who knew that when my parents brought Keith home they would be giving me my own personal sidekick? I immediately took advantage of him. I blamed numerous accidents and all my wrong doings on him. I used his toys, I drank his milk and I used him as a portable punching bag. He was always “it” when playing hide-n-seek. I was a wicked sibling. I regret my awful behavior and I’m amazed at how, through all my abuse, Keith managed to remain a kind, easy going, and likable individual.

I think he eventually threw up after running so hard to get that kite in the air.

Keith and I would pretend to be disc jockeys. We would tape ourselves impersonating disc jockeys, playing music and telling jokes. I still have a tape with Keith trying to coax me into playing disc jockeys with him and I’m at that age when I felt I was maybe too old to be playing with my little brother. I eventually go along with Keith and his plea for me to join him, but I sing a poorly improvised song about how much he annoys me.

Keith and I would perform skits, impersonating cast members from Saturday Night Live.

Keith is funnier than me and always has been in my opinion. He is goofy and wild. We are complete opposites in many ways but have similar interests in music, books and movies. Keith is brilliant and quick witted. He could have been a banker the way he would hoard his money like an old miser. On the rare occasion we would get an allowance Keith would save his money while I was busy paying him back for the money I borrowed off of him from two weeks prior. He was the same way with Halloween candy. He would stash it away like a squirrel preparing for winter. I would break into his stash and steal some of his candy from the pockets of our matching Transformer bed tents as my candy had long ago been eaten.

Stay away from my candy!

Once, while Keith sat watching cartoons on a channel that was barely visible through the static, a bat landed on his head. Another time Keith came home from school to an empty house only to find a squirrel eating something on our kitchen counter. The squirrel looked at him and Keith stared back at the squirrel. There was a moment of silence as the two stood there feeling each other out, then the squirrel leapt into action and charged for Keith. Keith managed to escape the wrath of that rodent by running outside.

Yes, my brother is a fantastic and interesting person and I’m glad to say that to this day, despite all that I’ve done to him, he still likes me.

I think my brother or I just farted in this photo and Jessica is too embarrassed to be next to us.

I have a wonderful family. I feel truly blessed to have them in my life and to be able to get along with them so well. Keith lives in Las Vegas and due to his job is limited in his ability to come home to see us. We miss you dearly Keith and we hope you had a fantastic birthday.

Love ya,
K