This is a new series of dioramas, where I’m exploring some ideas inspired by my recent exploration of comix. It looks super cool under a black light.




Here are some more drawings from my very young self.
In doing some research for a school project, I found this comic I made as a kid.
Back then, I was deeply inspired by both Tom & Jerry comics, and The Cricket in Times Square.
I always made my characters live in over designed houses, and drive over designed vehicles that they made themselves.
The castle (there probably wasn’t a motel anywhere) was on a cliff, of course. And you can see the purple door, even from this far away.
I remember thinking the door was off when I drew it, so I worked that into the conversation, as though it was on purpose.
I can’t find the rest of the story. I know they found a smaller door and gained entrance to the castle, and had adventures inside. But, I can’t remember what happened.
I went, in part, to San Francisco to learn about the history of Underground Comix, and the role the city played in its development. I wrote about that elsewhere.
As I walked through the city, however, I encountered many examples of comic narrative at the street level. I’m sharing a little of that below.
You are great (in the Haight).
Not sure if this is social justice, but it was huge, surprising and cool.
The next two drawings were in a window, mostly likely drawn by a child. I wonder if they knew it would been seen by someone from the other side of the county, and posted on the Internet?
The next photos were taken in an alley in the Mission district. They were stunning, powerful and inspiring.
All these drawings and scenes were viewed by a visitor, documented and shared. And I saw a lot more, too. This tells me it’s worth making things like this and sharing them. You never know who will see it.
Here’s another grouping of dioramas in tin boxes, showing the potential outcome of a nuclear holocaust, potentially caused by misguided tweets, potentially giving rise to new dominant species on our planet. There’s a bright side to everything! Life will go on.
And, as a bonus:
More than 350,000 people were expected to attend this year’s ArtScape, now in its 29th year and the biggest yet. ArtScape is America’s largest free Art festival and generates more than $25 million in revenue. Every year, the citizens of the east coast unite to collectively bake our brains under an atomically hot sun. Here are some pics from this year.
My kids and I made circus peanut shirts using left over paint from the giant peanut.
There is something really cool about watching people hug art. I watch a guy actually LICK the circus peanut, but couldn’t get my camera out in time. There are no teeth marks. Yet.
I received some much needed Art Therapy on the Charles Street bridge from Cocoa, while Leezle manned the phone.
The girls and I visited our comics at the Comic Strip exhibit at Penn station (previously discussed).
Here’s the Midway banner on the Charles Street bridge.
The girls illustrated messenger bags at the Target tent.
The art cars were amazing, as was the air guitar exhibition.
I tried to glue circus peanuts to the Throne of Glory, but it was in constant use.
Me and my baked brains.
Here are a few of my favorite Sondheim finalists in the Fox building gallery.
I’m sad it’s over, and relieved everything went well. Now it’s back to the drawing board.
This weekend’s abstract comic, pencil on a section of pine floor plank:
I had an eye check-up this morning, after which I took the metro to work as usual. It’s always fun having your pupils dilated – you get to spend a couple of hours looking like a vampire AND everything else looks fuzzy!
Today, though, I rode the crazy train to work.
There was another gentleman slumped in the far corner when I took my seat. He had his parka pulled snuggly around his head, so nothing was visible. As we got underway, I noticed mumbling which got louder and louder until it was shouting.
What follows is an actual transcription of the dialog coming from inside the parka (drawn quickly on the train):
I like to think he was yelling at his six foot invisible rabbit companion (and he probably was), because he had dropped the hood when he was shouting about killing someone. And maybe he just thought I was a vampire.
Anyway, this is what he looks like:
Keep your eyes peeled!
My eyes are great, by the way. Clean bill of health.
The second comic from my little press involves snippets of a conversation overheard in a hospital waiting room. Everything in the following book was indeed said. More or less.
FOOTNOTE: A few years ago, I published an anonymous newsletter entitled “The Egregious Linoleum Jerk.” I did small, targeted mailings and I left them around Baltimore. I produced issues when I could cobble together enough prose, ideas and photos to fill 8-10 legal sized pages. It was really fun. So, there’s my confession – if you received one, and you didn’t know who sent it – it was me.
I am beside myself with excitement! I’ve completed two 16 page mini-comics, and created a new area on my site to continue this activity. Here’s the deal:
I’m posting my completed issues as PDFs for you to print and put together. If you prefer a handmade, special version of your very own, please visit my Etsy space.
Issue one involves a precocious grackle and the sinister Mr. Vicars, who has appeared in several of my drawings elsewhere on this site. This was my very first attempt at this format. Very fun.
I hope you like it!