Monthly Archives: September 2011

I Just Found Out….

Today is National Coffee Day in the United States of America.

Krispy Kreme is giving out free coffees….


Please join me in a moment of silent appreciation for the viscous, black deliciousness that is the drink of the Gods… and HAPPY COFFEE DAY!

Ferocious (Torsten Solin)

Take his stuff, Jim. He's asleep. Brown ink, colored pencil, coffee.

Torsten Solin is an artist who likes dolls.

His pictures combine the following awesome elements:
Big eyed girl +
Boobies +
Dead animal.

My contribution to IF this week is a tribute to his art, which I would describe as ferocious. My version has no boobies, you’ll have to click here for those.
Also, my cat is asleep. Not dead. Also, this will be my last contribution for a while, ’cause the Schopenfags are going to do America.

Yeehaw! It’s going to be just us, a little baby and the open road. Diners and chicken-fried steaks and flat-tires, as far as the eye can see. Jack Kerouac and ten sandwiches to cross the country with, stuffed marmots staring down at you glassy eyed in Norman Bates motel rooms…
The smell of redwood pines…

And in other news!

The world’s littlest moof got sick this week. : / It was his first sickness EVER and he did not like it one bit. I was wondering why he was howling so lustily at dinner last weekend. We’d gone out with friends and he’s usually quite a genial baby in public, but this night, (–) thrashed and wailed. …I even had to take him into another little room (we were in a Japanese restaurant) and eat my fried octopus legs in the dark while I tried to get him to sleep…

(mmm, octopus legs…)

The next day he was full-blown sick.
I tried to explain to him: Baby, this is called feeling like shit.
It comes and it goes, but he didn’t get it.
His howls sounded so betrayed.

It’s gone for him and come for me; now I feel like someone stuffed
wet, hot, ass-soaked cotton behind my eyeballs. I too want to howl for revenge; find who did this and make them pay…

The Pink Revolution

Feeling a little down and stressed out. ><

The only thing you can do then is draw… Some pictures for the moofies…

The Pink Revolution - messing around with ink and colored pencil. Just draw what comes to mind....

Girl listening to music. -- Inspired by a picture in Vogue.

Still got my pot of ‘negro estupendo’. Have a limited range of colored pencils.
I am trying to keep colors very minimal to avoid screw ups… skin is very tricky though. It is not pink… there are shades of blue, gray… etc. etc. But it’s hard to get it… sharpening pencils constantly and trying to shade very very light with many layers… might be getting somewhere…. I feel like I am finally starting to understand where light and shadow rest in the contours of the human face… (or humanoid face ahaha, as I enjoy distorting faces quite a bit…. it’s that taste for anime…. may it never die.)

I love gray and pink together.  Brains are pink and gray together.

I need zzzzz. Hope you’re all well.

Mesmerizing Spit

Mesmerized by.... ? 'Spit'.

I did it. I finished my submission for this week’s illustration.
The topic was ‘Mesmerizing’.
My inspiration was from a novel by Witold Gombrowicz, called ‘Cosmos’.

What? You don’t know Witold Gombrowicz? Why, he’s only the most famous Polish writer of all time! (Ok, that’s a lie. I have no idea how famous he is in Poland or anywhere else, but I have a friend  who loathes the  smarmy ‘What? You don’t know x? Why, he’s only the most famous X of all time!’ ..pattern, and it was for the memory of our friendship that I said so….)

Ahem. Anyway. Back to G. (His name is too long to type, ‘Gombrowicz’ hereafter known as ‘G’.)

G was a fellow writer in exile, born near the beginning of last century and living in Argentina most of his life.
He wrote some whack shit, which is why I like him.

His novel ‘Cosmos’ is about a young man (forgot his name) who moves into a boarding house and becomes convinced that random objects/incidents/people in the house are pointing to a certain ‘mystery’ he becomes more and more compelled to solve. One of the boarding house’s mysteries is the landlady’s daughter, a beautiful girl whose mouth he becomes MESMERIZED by whenever she speaks to him. He becomes obsessed with her mouth and her teeth, and at some point starts to hallucinate that she has the desire to spit in his mouth.

He is consumed with the idea that she is trying to send him secret signs with her mesmerizing mouth so as to arrange a situation where she can spit into his.

I remember reading that and thinking that it sounded pretty gross.


A little hot.

So I drew it for ya, moofies. :P

Baby Nazgul Update!

And now, drumroll. (–), my little baby Nazgul has said his first word.
WordS, in fact!

Yup. At the delicate age of six months, he was in the other room last week when, what? Dost my ears deceive me? (–) has started clamoring for…

-Naan! (the Indian flat-bread.)

Naan!  He caterwauled. Naaan! Naaaan!
I told him he’ll have to wait until he has teeth to sink his tiger-fangs into some naan, but he won’t listen. The other word he’s uttered is Nen! (The Japanese word for year.) All day now, he yells ‘bread’ and ‘year’.

Bets are up for his next word. So far, my money is on ‘bacon’.

Day of the Tentacle

Or a Rumination about Art vs. Illustration and Tentacle Erotica

My contribution to the fine tradition of the tentacle...

What is the boundary between ‘art’ and ‘illustration’?
I’m sure a very  scholarly definition exists out there, but I’m much more curious as to people’s individual opinions. There seems to be a rheumy sniff in the voice of some artists when they talk about illustration… I thought… perhaps its because illustrations are easy to understand, whereas ‘art’ is about depicting and exploring the highest notions of human emotion and beauty.

On the other hand, still-lifes are considered ‘art’, and what is easier than understanding a bowl of fruit or a dead lobster next to a baguette? Your thoughts, dear moofies?

Speaking of the boundaries between art and illustration….

In 2003, a tentacle-based brooha brewed (!) in Melbourne– ‘rape’ and ‘pornography’  were the heated words in the air. A museum displaying the work of Australian painter David Laity was slapped with obscenity charges. These were later dropped…

The painting in question was Laity’s rework of one of woodblock master Hokusai’s most famous erotic images: Tako to Ama (Octopus and Diver), a 19th century image also known as “Dream of a Fisherman’s Wife.” The original woodblock itself is said to be an homage to a popular woodblock theme: the myth of Princess Tamatori who has to dive deep  and enter the undersea realm of the dragon prince who has stolen her family’s most valuable pearl… At one point, she is being chased by the prince’s minions, including rape-minded octopi…

Japan is a country who loves her drawn pornography (illustrated pornography? erotic art?). As it did in Edo, the tentacle and communion with sea-creatures remains a theme– some say this is a way to get around the pesky law that forbids graphic depiction of penetration by a penis…. Or maybe it’s just the sexual legacy of a nation embraced by the sea, but while Hokusai’s scene seems consensual, tentacle porn has become known as shokushu goukan (tentacle rape).

My work in progress is  in line with ‘consensual’ and not ‘rape’–I am deep into my season of long hair right now and strands all over, so by the School of Long Hair = Girl, that is a girl, if you want her to be. And her squid. Painted in ink–… I misplaced my Windsor Newton : (, and found this ambiguous calligraphy ink in my supplies. It claims to be ‘negro estupendo’ (super negro!!! >:P) but it is actually sepia… The weird colorings is from the bad lighting for the photo, but I kind of like it that way…