Back in the spring I went to the ACAD student art sale.
There I found a guy selling a table full of squeezy pastel foam Bob Ross heads; I'm not sure if he sculpted the original model or just cast something he'd picked up somewhere, but however he created them these were very cool toys. I bought one for me and one for Kamala, and I've regretted ever since not buying one for every artist I know. Sorry, guys.
Rod, being the most computer savvy of us all, and wise in the ways of internet commerce, has opened his very own cafepress boutique. The charming model is wearing "Festering Heart", a steal at only $24.99 US dollars*. Also available: Forkhead, T-Bone, Monkey Man, Crazy Jazz and of course, The Borgnine Shirt. Get yours today!
Whilst plundering the vaults a few months ago for a potential customer of some of my back-dated mung (thanks again, Mike! You rock!), we unearthed this prehistoric t-shirt line-art done for a local night spot, the Night Gallery.
The Night Gallery closed down last year after a fairly long stint as a legit licensed premises, playing host to many local and touring bands and DJs, dating back to the early 90's. Before that, it was an 80's late night booze can/quasi-loft living space called the White Elephant, and before that, a classic dance hall-kinda place with origins as a "fraternity hall" dating back to 1905.
It was one of those awesome joints where if you were in a band that regularly played there, ya never had to pay for a single drink. The floor was sticky and ceiling was high. The walls were festooned with cool old stuff like movie posters ("Kitten with a Whip"!), garage sale J.F.K./card-playing dog tapestries, a lacquered Rod Stewart plaque, the giant Ten Foot Henry sign (from another long gone night spot), Rudolph Zallinger mural reproductions, etc. They also had what seemed like one of the biggest damn old-timey disco balls you might ever lay your eyes on. It actually felt somewhat Big City in there, but then you stepped back out onto the street (after navigating the nasty narrow steep stairway back down), and you were back out in Hoserville with the drunk jocks trying to get into the neighboring discos, fighting for cabs, et al. Oh yeah, the little boys' room had no proper doors, which meant even if you were on the dance floor, you could still see your pals peeing.
Anyway, I recall having a pretty swell time doing this cartoon up, being sure to include a somewhat fey-looking Rod Serling in there (yet another clarion warning to kids of the "don't smoke" variety).
If anyone's ever looked at this blog and thought, "gee...I wonder why the Sinners don't do advertisements", well, here is a good reason. Check the google ad above the photos of the two women and tell me how they came up with that specific malady to plug. Are they trying to tell us something about Paula Abdul and Tara Reid that we really don't want to know?
"I'll tell you one thing, Brad Pitt, Morgan Freeman, Kevin Spacey and Gwyneth Paltrow's pretty head have nothing, nothing I say, on these stuffed animals reinacting the ending of Se7en. It's like how when I was younger my father convinced me that by the time I became an adult there would be no actors, only computer images made to look like perfect human specimens who would be our idolized celebrities. Only this time it's with plush toys, one of which is creepily perfect in the Kevin Spacey role."
So I sent this link to Kamala, and she sent me this picture of Otis. Eating a Kevin Spacey alien.
What IS that thing, anyway? What kind of toy could it be?
Well. So I was supposed to get this painting done for Lowbrow on the High Seas 3, a Pirate Show opening in Vancouver tomorrow night, and I got it finished, and then...and then...The Varnish Happened.
Ok, here's a tip from me to you: don't draw anything in red sharpie that you don't want to see again, coming up through layers of paint. There's some kind of weird alchemy that happens at the varnish stage, where you start seeing things that were hidden before; weird lumps, hairs, RED SHARPIE. It's going to take me a while to touch it all up, and I'm going to miss the UPS deadline for overnight shipping, so this piece is destined for the Pirate Art Gallery & Bathroom downstairs.
In more positive news, I had my final interview this morning and am now a Permanent Resident of Canuckistan, only a year (and a couple thousand dollars and much, much paperwork) after I filed. I get my card in the mail in a month or so...I really hope it's got "RESIDENT ALIEN" printed across it in glow in the dark ink. That would be utterly swell.
Ok, stalking is a bad bad thing, and throwing bags of love letters along with rocks and screwdrivers over someone's fence is darn nutty. But this is JOHN CUSACK, people. Who among us hasn't at least thought of stalking the guy? He's pretty much up there on every girlie's list of "Oh hell yeah"; at least, girlies who were going to movies in the 1980's. There's an entire Marriage Exemption Act (not widely publicized by the Male Controlled Media) that specifically states: 'if a wife is approached for any sort of favor by Mr. John Cusack and she complies, the husband cannot use this against her in a court of divorce, because he will be laughed out of the court by any female judge ruling'.