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Showing posts from October, 2008

for illustration friday ... {vacant}

It's the straw man who worries me (there's something vacant in his eyes). ; mixed media on canvas, 22 x 28 inches. The string series continues. * * * * * I have a persistent headache today ... caused, no doubt, by the oven cleaning that I've been doing on and off all week (C set it on fire last weekend, trying to roast pumpkin seeds ) ... the fumes and attendant stink. My hands are like old erasers. Even as I type this I'm leaning in, stretching my head away from body, as if distance will diminish the pain. Did I mention our furnace went on Tuesday? * * * * * C's been bugging me for a week to watch this : it's a Russian version of Winnie the Pooh. And man, it's a trip. Because while I have no idea what Winnie is actually babbling about, he does seem to be suffering from some kind of depression – his eyes are like little round discs of confusion and fear. Add to this the constant plunking himself down on the ground, the long monologues with the open

love * birds

For a greeting card ... I know, it's pretty saccharine.

for illustration friday ... {repair}

amputee fashionista ; pencil and crayon on Moleskine watercolour paper, 3.5 x 5.25 inches. Fashion models (and mannequins) missing various limbs, badly in need of repair. But the show must go on. Another drawing for T.N.V.

for illustration friday ... {late}

go let it go , mixed media on canvas (stretched, on a frame), 24 x 24 inches. The string series continues. I was waiting to put up something for Illustration Friday, middle of the afternoon and still no new theme ... * * * * * Further to my election essay (last entry, below), we (the Canadian 'we') managed a whopping 59.1% voter turnout on Tuesday , meaning every third person stayed home to watch reruns of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit . * * * * * And now from outer space: my friend Trish is a finalist in Microcinema International's MetaFest 2008 . Tense and twitchy, this is one for people who like to listen to heartbeats. Fugue - Directed by Trish Van Huesen - The best video clips are right here

thanksgiving, then election day

Rachel and Stella graced me and C with their presence this Thanksgiving weekend. We ate turkey, potatoes, squash, cranberries, stuffing, graving, asparagus ... and pumpkin pie. Almost everything was cooked by C, who bravely volunteered for all-day-hot-kitchen duty. Paranoid android eating beans the next day. At one point we all went over to the college where I work, so Stella could climb torpedoes and play with cannons and anti-aircraft guns and all manner of things that little girls dream of ... I guess. And then: the obligatory trip to my studio, which, like our election, inspires both improvised models and many flat denials. * * * * * As for the election (in Canada, we vote today): this is an essay I wrote at the beginning of the campaign, and was shopping around in the UK (well, to three editors anyway, who all replied with variations of "I-like-it-but-we-can't-use-it"). On Not Caring in Canada Here in Canada: on a Sunday morning they called an election. We go to

strings, attached {for illustration friday}

Wow, where do I start? Because for the better part of two years now I've been painting string right into my canvases , so that it becomes part of the artwork, and I've been calling this experiment (into how it affects the surface, texture, design, etc) the string series . So, in terms of Illustration Friday's theme today, I'm kind of all over it. The above two paintings were the start of it; I wasn't happy with the way my easel held a canvas (it was firm but not immovable), so I decided to lash the thing to the frame. * * * * * The front cover (photograph by Alex Taves ) of the new issue of Event , in which I have the illo and story below (also about strings, and the pain in cutting them). Death of a Dictator (My Iggly Education) The dictator is dead. His people – and he would call them that, even now – are rejoicing. Especially in the Christian south, they dance and sing and spit gleeful curses to the ground. In the capital city of the north – where his body h

sugary (sweet)

Saint Dymphna is the patron saint of madness and sugar. She was the daughter of an Irish chieftain who, driven mad by his failure to find a comparably beautiful replacement for his late wife, attempted to seduce her with sweets. She fled to Belgium in the middle of the night where, accompanied by her confessor priest, she took refuge in a chapel. The chieftain found them, murdered the priest and begged his Dymphna to return. She refused. So he cut her head off. * * * * * A friend of mine dug this out of the trash just before she quit her not-so-sweet job and sued her former employer. Now she's on permanent disability. {Click on image to enlarge.}