Yet another "Fear of Art" comic, and some shameless self-promotion. It was nice to be surprised with a decent review because this show pokes fun at the "serious" art scene. Here's the review of our little comic show from today's Seattle Weekly:
The Five-Booted Grasshopper is one of several curious creatures from my "Botany in Wonderland" series. Scientists are a loss to explain why this majestic creature wears only five boots when it has six legs and are puzzled further why it chooses to wear shiny vinyl stilettos when it could easily choose a shoe that provides more comfort and stability.
Shameless Self-promo (the 8th deadly sin?): Just what EVERYBODY out
there in Internetland has been DYING for: Forbidden Dimension, my
dumb-ass Can-con spooky-garage-punk combo (ie: terminal adolescence
outlet) which I've had on and off since before the Burgess Shale was
a happening scene, now has a My Space page! Woohoo! I've been using
the band as an outlet for my so-called "musical" spewage, as well as
a venue for doing up scary graphics (and yes, meeting the Ladies).
Stop by and say "hell-oh!" if you are into that My Space cult.
So, my man, Ian-Lee Lucero (of I.L.L. Productions), and I had the dubious honor of dog-sitting Kipling's old dog Boris for the last week. This dog is, ummm, well, hmmm, how do I put it... he's special. I won't be too mean here as I know Kipling loves her little doggy and I do feel a bit sorry for him as he's a grumpy physical mess, and I know how it is to love a gross little old beast that others may find repellent. However. This guy was not happy to be left with me. It was an interesting few days of learning how to avoid being attacked by him while at the same time preventing him from dragging his stinky anal glands all over every non-washable item in my apartment. Then there were the out-of-nowhere, middle of the night, satanic, blood curdling, pterodactyl/rooster screams that emanated from this furry troll.
At least he wasn't attacking me continuously, as he passed some of the time practicing unique and charming stress relief techniques. Fortunately Ian, being a professional videographer, had his trusty dvx here to capture the magic for you. And while suffering shortcomings in certain other areas of life, I must say that Boris Von Wankenstein is a true adult film professional, performing wonderfully under the pressure of an audience, lights & camera- even encouraged by such things.
This might go well with a glass of wine, and perhaps a cigarette to finish. Enjoy.
I suppose that depends on your personal preference. I did this oil painting in order to study and practice the painting of flesh. Toned and taut flesh is easy to paint, but lumpy and billowing mounds of flesh is much more of a challenge. Try it sometime!
I think this would most embody Envy, if I had to tie it to a sin. Is that regular old normal elephant jealous of the fancy pink decorated one doing it's cheesy trick? I don't quite know myself.
I'm normally not so hot on painting the oft repeated hip retro things like the tiki's, cocktails, pinups, etc, (no offense to those who actually make those things out of personal enjoyment, it just doesn't float my boat and it would feel forced if I did it). For that reason I have shied away from Tiki themed shows, etc. But I felt I could come up with a piece for this show without feeling like a faker. Hipsters and Juxtapoz mag haven't entirely spoiled elephants for me. Yet.
The title is "Edwina's Pleasurable Vagary". Medium is watercolor, acrylic, charcoal, glitter, rhinestones.
Here's a shelf full of my favorite books, a small bust of Lenin, various pods and dried plants collected during my travels, a portrait of Thomas Kinkade painted by my friend 14, and a saucy little Boston Terrier that enjoys wreaking havoc in my studio while I work.
To produce crap, one must really be on the crapper for crappy inspiration to take hold. This is where I flush out my ideas into corn-studded lincoln logs of genius. Here is a view of my rotating crapper library with assorted crap.
It all speaks for itself really - a sad array of nicotine-stained silliness and despair. Plus there's porn way under there.