What I've Been Up To

I did this illustration just for fun, because summer's on the way. I'm looking forward to squeezing in some beach time. I will not be squeezing into a two-piece; not even a modest one like the one pictured.

I started a new album with some of my recent illustrations. Just click on the two birds over there to the right, and see what I've been up to. Since most were class assignments, the styles are a bit of a mix, but lately I've been gravitating towards a fun retro look. I'm looking forward to adding to the album, too.

So, what have you been up to? What are you looking forward to?

Crumbs

Here I go tossing out a crumb, in the hope that anyone might wander over here. I just got back from a short trip where I was reminded of a visit years ago to my parents’ house in New York.

My dad had just returned from the grocery store. If my mom had done the shopping, the bags would’ve cradled items like gourmet dried salami and Kalamata olives. My Dad usually came bearing things like a drum of mayonnaise and multiple packs of Oscar Meyer bologna. But one thing my parents shared was a craving for Entenmann’s baked goods.

This time, my Dad reported, he approached the bakery aisle to hear two women arguing over the dessert items. Finally the older woman declared, in her thick Long Island-y accent,

“We’d beddah get a crumb cake for a BACK-up!”

I don’t know why, but we found the idea of a backup crumb cake absolutely brilliant.

There’s dessert, and then there’s backup dessert.

Oh yeah.

Now that I think of it, that might have been the summer I coined the term “breakfast dessert.” As in: “That was a delicious cheese omelet. What’s for breakfast dessert?”

And while I’m on the subject of desserts, here’s an Illustrator drawing I finished recently:

It was one of four pieces of mine that my teacher chose to include in the student art show. One of my other illustrations won an award (and fifty bucks). Yay for me! I think I deserve a piece of pie.

The Wrong Place

I’m taking an Illustrator class this semester. When the instructor showed samples of what was expected, I panicked. I’ve never actually done a drawing in Illustrator, and my first attempts made me think I might be in the wrong place.

Our first assignment was to make an illustrated graph. It could be on any subject, as long as it showed a comparison of data using illustration. As the student next to me started drawing up some lovely French fries, I struggled to make this:

Unless I could come up with statistics on paper clip catastrophes, I was in the wrong place.

The teacher worked his way around the classroom. One student had already formed a slice of pizza complete with toppings, another had a perfectly proportioned hamburger on a sesame seed bun, and the guy next to me was now coloring a box for his French fries (can you tell this class is just before lunch?). By the time the teacher came up behind me, I had managed to create this masterpiece:

Oh yeah I might be in the wrong place.

The teacher frowned. “Is that supposed to by candy?” The only lame response I could come up with was to state the obvious.

“I’m new at this.”

The teacher didn’t look surprised. What I meant was I’m really sorry for taking up space in your classroom. I wanted to redeem myself, but by the end of the class period, the best I could come up with was this sucky rose:

I’m in the wrong place, and that rose looks like it could hurt someone.

Fortunately I had time to work on this at home. It turns out when I’m not hungry or surrounded by people who’ve been using computers since they were in diapers, things start making sense to me. I might not be in the wrong place after all. Even my bees don’t look like they’d hurt anyone!

Just pay no attention to those numbers. They’re totally made up.

Stuffed Love

My brothers and I were not easy on our stuffed friends. I still have a few of mine. Believe me, they won’t be crowned in any beauty competitions.

My little brother had a monkey (cleverly named Monkey) that smelled like a combination of steak and salad dressing. I don’t know what Monkey had gotten into, but I do know it’s not a good idea to go around smelling your brother’s things. My older brother had a fuzzy dog we called Risko. We had a tagline for Risko…Risko RISKS HIS LIFE to SAVE the others!! Proof that poor Risko lived up to that motto is that none of us can remember what happened to him. Wherever he ended up, he had to be carrying out a valiant rescue attempt.

I had a bear that underwent so many neck ‘surgeries’ that my mom finally had to crochet a collar just to keep his head on. I also had a stuffed chipmunk with tire marks on his tail. When your stuffed animals start resembling road kill, I think you’ve pretty much reached the pinnacle of toy abuse. The chipmunk and bear duo had the dubious honor of being my all-time favorites.

Here’s to the brave softies. They’re cute. They’re cuddly. They comfort us and keep us company. We repay them by biting off their noses and dropping them in the toilet.

We might have it rough. But it’s gotta be tough to be stuffed.

Skinny White Dog

I’ve always been partial to dogs that are black or brown or a mixture of the two. I like big dogs that look a little intimidating. When we first considered getting another dog, I had in mind a black or chocolate lab.

Then one day while looking at shelter ads online, I came across a picture that seemed to have a message for me.

So I did what I had to do. I secretly stashed a leash, collar, and the exact adoption fee in cash into the glove compartment of my car, and told my family, “Let’s go for a ride!”

And then I said, “As long as we’re close by, why don’t we stop in the pet store and look at the puppies?” And, “Well, look at that, they’re having an adoption event today!”

And just like that, my desire to own a majestic and slightly imposing animal gave way to a new reality.

I was the owner of a skinny white dog.

By the time the skinny white dog was curled up in the back seat of my car and named Luna, the only thing left to do was to convince myself of the merits of having a white dog.

You know what’ll be great? I told myself. We won’t have any of those big piles of dark hair all over the place. No evil black dust bunnies gathering in the corners.

And you know what?

I was right.

It’s great not having dark furry tumbleweeds to sweep up. I don’t know how, but people always seem to be able to tell I own a white dog. They can sense it somehow.

I am thinking of brushing Luna outside from now on.

If I could just find the leash.

Kitchen Help

There must be something to learn from this. One evening I pose the question: What should I make for dinner tonight?

To which CHILD #1 (a.k.a. Daughter) responds: Nothing.

Which probably means: Please do not bother me with mundane things. I am far too busy to be inconvenienced by such pedestrian matters. Can’t you see I’m texting? Geez. U r so lame.

And then CHILD #2 (a.k.a. Son) answers: FOOD!
Translation: FOOD! What else? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of an EPIC video game battle?

Die, zombie robot, die!!

(Question – Is it just me, or is it really necessary to have a being that is both a zombie AND a robot? Aren’t robots already kinda dead? Anyhoo…)

At this point THE FEATHERED ONE (a.k.a. Corfu) says:

Translation: Pizza! Pizza pizza pizza pizza! PEEEEEEEEEEEEEET-Zuh!!!

And that outburst is quickly followed up with:

Meaning: Head rub now? Promise I won’t bite. This time. Heh heh.

And then I give up and rummage through the freezer for Hot Pockets.

NOTE: I should explain the sloppy art: I just bought new software so I can do my homework at home, and I need to learn it. So now goofing around = practice. And practice = dumb stuff I can post on my blog! Hooray!

Also, I should point out that my kids are actually pretty helpful. But boy, timing is everything. Corfu, on the other hand, hardly ever lifts a finger around here (but occasionally bites one).

The Barber is In

Here we are at the beginning of a new year. It’s a relief to put the last one behind me. If last year were a hairstyle, it’d be a Mohawk: scary all around and just plain ugly in the middle.

The year wasn’t totally without highlights. There IS an upside to having your life turned upside down. You’re compelled to take personal inventories, to appreciate things differently. Nothing like being flipped hip pockets over split ends to make you sit up and take notice.

I’ve enjoyed taking classes again. After sweating out some fears in computer workshops, I took a semester length class (got an A!). I signed up for two more this coming semester. It’s surreal to be in that environment after so many years, but I like being there. How often do people take a hard look at their lives, realize their dissatisfaction, and keep on doing the exact same things? It’s like watering a dead plant every day and hoping an orchid will pop up. But who am I to talk? Without a good kick in the pants, I fall into the category of stick waterers.

Being forced to set aside writing/illustrating pursuits brought an unexpected revelation, too. Even though I enjoyed what I was doing, I had a nagging feeling I wasn’t representing myself in a very authentic way. I doubt nagging feelings lead to wild success and utter bliss, so I’m okay with letting it all simmer on the back burner for now.

That leaves me with a question -what to do with this blog? It hangs in the blogosphere and in the back of my mind. I miss the camaraderie. I just haven’t quite figured out a way to keep it up.

So, no resolutions …just faith that this year is going to be better. It’s off to a pretty good start. I’d say so far it’s more like a bowl haircut: kinda funny looking, but ready for that awkward growing-out stage.

Happy New Year. Hope it has the right amount of bounce to it.

Homework (And a Little Type History)

Here are two versions of a recent assignment to design a poster for a typeface. I picked Letter Gothic, which was designed in 1962 for the IBM Selectric typewriter. The font was often used for tabular items (like columns of numbers) because of the even spacing between letters.

The type element in the IBM Selectric was a pivoting ball (nicknamed the golf ball) that was removable, so you could change fonts on the typewriter. I think only the teacher and a couple of other older students knew what the heck I was talking about, but I remember using one in the office in the late 70s.

The first poster was inspired by the history of the typewriter and the art of the time; the second poster focused more on the properties of the font.

It’s been a long time since I worked in graphic design and much longer since I walked a college campus as a student. When I signed up for a semester length course in digital media this fall, I was sure I was in over my head. I’ve taken some workshops but never really used programs like Photoshop, Illustrator or InDesign. The first thing I did was look up the last day to drop the course.

So far I’ve been pleasantly surprised. It turns out not every nineteen year old is already an expert in Photoshop, and not everyone that grew up in front of a computer screen has a perfect sense of design. There’s a whole range of skill and talent, and although I have yet to see a grade, I think I’m keeping up.

The best surprise is how much I enjoy the projects. I love a design challenge and the chance to apply what I’ve learned. I also like deadlines – nothing better to motivate you to get your butt in gear.

Have you tried something new lately? Was it terrifying? Exhilarating? A little of both?