Ridiculous

I despise the way Christmas is celebrated in America. I loved getting gifts as a child but as an adult I've come to resent this holiday due to the insane nature of this consumerist holiday masquerading as a religious celebration and the unnecessary pressure to buy gifts for family members as an alleged demonstration of our appreciation for them the way Jesus would have. A Wal-Mart employee was killed today by shoppers who refused to let him get up as he was trampled on and killed so they could get a deal on electronic devices and other goods manufactured in foreign countries by people who aren't even allowed to celebrate this season.

Expanding Horizons

While I was at work I was approached about helping someone at the church with making a poster for a play she wrote. I talked to the playwright and asked what she had in mind. I was told it would be a barnyard scene where farm animals put on a pageant that has something to do with Jesus. I knew what animals she wanted to focus on and that it was supposed to be realistic, not too cartoon like. She also wanted it done in a relatively short period of time. I said I'd do it as a favor for her and the church at no cost than I did a sketch that night. She ended up being pleased with the sketch with some minor changes here and there like the ears up instead of down, a rooster and hen instead of a duck kind of thing. I made some copies of it at an office supply store and then tried my luck at painting the pastoral scene. It turned out descent enough that she wanted to use it so they added the dates, time, etc. and placed them around the building. I asked if she could list me as the artist somewhere and they put my name in huge letters next to the lamb. I don't know if it was to be nice or to make it seem like I'm an egoist, which I am to a certain unashamed degree. Here it is in it's final form. Maybe if you're a Christian, living in Akron, who likes free plays about Christ involving barnyard animals with a cookie reception following, you'll come to see it.

Flight of Fright

This was originally done as a pencil drawing for the Spooky and Fresh exhibit at the Summit Art Space back in October. It was located along a wall with the other lackluster pieces like a parent's refrigerator covered with their child's artwork. At least is was by the winner's submission. I colored it this evening in an attempt to liven it up.

Storytime with Francois

First Impressions

Back in August I was going through a local thrift store when I came across a very large painting for ten dollars. The painting was done in an abstract fashion with globs of paint strewn about in passive and bland colors, art I would consider suitable for a dentist's office or a bank. I didn't purchase the painting for the painting itself but for the canvas. I'm not a strong painter. I haven't had much instruction in this particular area and I typically work on small canvases, so I thought I'd step out of my comfort zone and paint over this hideous painting. When I placed it in my workshop I began painting strange representations of three women in 1930's fashion doing different things like drinking wine and spreading gossip, one had a face expressing ecstasy, and the other wasn't figured out yet. Then, while working on the third woman, something else started to form and a new painting began emerging.Immediately as the third woman began to take form I knew where I was going with the painting, as if the painting already existed and I was just uncovering it from years of accumulated dust.

The canvas had a peculiar way of absorbing the paint and not letting it adhere. The globs of paint were difficult to avoid or address but it adds texture to the painting, which appeases me.

I was influenced by Impressionist artists like Van Gogh, Renoir, Degas, Monet, Manet, Munch and Picasso's blue period. While we were in Paris and the Musee d'Orsay I was overwhelmed by how close I could get to my heroes work. I wanted to pay homage to that style and so I added some symbolism to this piece and I'm curious to see how people interpret the piece.
I'd like to do many more in this style and have another exhibit in Akron somewhere. You're all invited if this happens.This is how it looks now propped up on a bookshelf in my office. I can't say that it is finished but I can say that I'm done with it.
I wish I would have started the recording process earlier, if I do something this large again I'll have to.

What is Left is Right

Growing up I had uncontrollable bouts of rage. My brother referred to it as "Hulking". It was terrible. I would vent my frustration by punching things in an idiotic fashion. Once, while in art class a friend flicked water on me while I was working on a drawing for my portfolio to submit to a prospective college. Water droplets fell on my drawing and I began "hulking" but instead of getting into a fist fight over the goof I punched a steel door. Basic physics taught me that the density of the door was more than that of my fist, my flesh and bone couldn't penetrate metal and for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction (thank you Newton) which resulted in me having extreme pain in my hand. Hoping that it was a broken or stoved finger I began pulling on my pinky finger trying to set it. This resulted in a burning, throbbing sharp pain in my hand. I told my art teacher, "I need to go to the doctor, I just broke my hand." Looking at my swollen and pulsating hand my teacher obliged and sent me to the principal's office. Needless to say I had a broken hand or what is commonly referred to as a boxer's fracture. I broke the fifth metacarpal and had to have my hand put in a cast. I never said I was smart, especially at that age.
At this time I had three periods of art class in a row where I mostly socialized and did an occasional drawing here or there to keep my grades up. It was then that I drew a picture of my right hand in a cast with my left hand. Twelve years ago I learned how much I enjoy occasionally drawing with my left hand. I also learned not to punch things when I'm angry and to vent my frustrations in a more productive way, like line-dancing.

The drawings tend to be a bit crude and rough with a stronger line. It is a fun exercise but not something I can do for long periods of time. Naturally I want to use my right hand to fix something or to accent the drawing and it is at that time I have to quit the exercise.

Sometimes I pick up a pencil and let my left hand do some scribbling, which feels weird because it doesn't seem as though I'm controlling my hand.







Here is my left hand's version of the Red Queen from Alice in Wonderland.














Tuesday my left hand started drawing and what turned out was a drawing of the Mad Hatter.


















I've done some right handed drawings of Lewis Carol's characters and painted them using water colors. The only thing I like about this one of the Hatter is his pupil.





















Another was done of the Hare. I like his look of panic.

Tim Burton is attached to direct a remake of Alice in Wonderland with Johnny Depp as the Hatter. I'm sure it will be great, but is anyone else getting tired of these two working together? Do people do this out of laziness? Burton isn't the only one guilty of this crime and Depp is a great facial expression character actor but for real? Again? I'm not jealous or anything.

I don't know how I got to this point but the doodle I did with my left hand of the Hatter made me think of this. I hope everyone is doing good and staying warm.

Chess King

I never really learned to play chess. I've played, but never took the time to study strategy which is essential to the game. With the months getting colder and darker chess seems to be an appropriate game to pick up. Now if only I could find someone to play me.

I have difficulty being consistent with characters and duplicating them in different poses. This was an exercise in trying to recreate a character with different facial expressions.

Loss of Sorrow

Baby was a still-born
Mama named it Sorrow
I never saw its face
But I cried all the same
Yesterday was the last time
Last time my mama smiled
Now she sits alone, sits alone and weeps
Sits alone and weeps alone for her loss of Sorrow


I've decided to post file 11-04/08.
11-05/09 Over a year ago I wrote this poem after I drew this doodle at work. Meghan never liked it because her sister was pregnant at the time it was written and she thought it was bad mojo. It was written as if it was a child talking about losing a sibling in the Victorian Age. Last year I entered it in the Akron Museum of Art poetry contest along with some other poems I had written. I did not win or place, but I entered, because I love poetry and I've always fancied myself as a story teller of sorts and wanted to give it a go. I never would have thought that this would happen to us in real life, to feel the loss of something so precious it cannot have a value, but we have.