not if i see you first

it's been a long year on the fishbone but it ain't over, yet. ol' man winter still hasn't shown his beard and a few of the birches are hanging on to a few yellow-brownish leaves. somewhere out there in the deep duff of rotting leaves and pine needles, maybe under the low bow of a spruce, a ruffed grouse settles in for the evening. invisible and sacred. alone and at one.

red pike

i'm thinking about changing fishbone lake to red pike ©. been thinking about for a while but haven't pulled the trigger. maybe red pike will become a sub-brand of fishbone. yeah, that's it. all i had to do was talk about and the solution presents itself.

what came before, i see

just not feeling the fishbone vibe this grey sputtering sunday so i'm sitting around looking for inspiration and, typical of me, i spend some time looking backwards to old photos and classical illustration. then i took a snap of myself to see what i look like in this state of mind and in the background i see the past - an old sharpie drawing (actually a photocopy of an old sharpie drawing) - that i've always liked. i wish i could remember drawing it, what it felt like, because it's a freehand sketch that just happened. an emotional response to an idea that seemed to compose itself on the page. the original is gone now. lost in the shuffle. but i do remember giving it a name. i called it 'tears of joy'

60's fish badge

couldn't sleep last night so i got up, cleaned the kitchen (someone has to), made some delicious vanilla yogurt coffee cake, and while that was baking, watched the movie, Pirate Radio. about halfway through i picked up the ipad and started goofing around. this is what i came up with. i think i like it but i also think i need to get some sleep.

young mike plies the depths

mighty mike as a youngster. he looks like a toothy puppy here. maybe a little too friendly. i'm trying out some new pencils and i've been looking at a lot of animation artist sketches. working on my perspective and scale. obviously i have a long ways to go.

diving deep

i couldn't resist the moleskin notebook at the bookstore the other day. of course i sat down right away and drew in mighty mike diving deep in the cold waters of fishbone lake. i imagine that he saw an opening in the ice and curiosity pulled him up out his winter languor to stare at the sky for a few moments. soon it will be spring.

the flying dishrag

that's how my dad referred to the mighty woodcock. it was because of the haphazard way the bird seemed to fly. this is a tiny bird so secretive and skittish that you probably won't see one until the sun has set and the last glow of the sky is bleeding into the shadows of the pines. then the woodcock pops off the duff like it's been shot out of a small canon, quickly reaching minimal altitude, and flies like a ball of maniac feathers only to disappear into the darkness of the night. this drawing is based on sketches made by one of my favorite wildlife artists, David Maas.

lightbulb

ever notice how some folks can easily and continually entertain themselves?

zombie fish