process

mighty mike develops

cluttered

one of the most annoying things for me is when my workspace becomes less of a workspace and more of a shelf. my current workspace is an old drawing table that i bought more than 25 years ago. i have yet to find a suitable set of shelves or cabinet to store all my implements of construction and so, as you can see, everything lives on top of the drawing table. this mess drives me crazy. wouldn't it be cool if someone invented a tool chest for artists? i imagine something like a multi-drawer tower on wheels similar to what professional car mechanics use but made more out of wood than metal and with old-timey craftsmanship and accents.

mighty mike

when my son was little, i'd tell him stories about mighty mike the musky, the biggest, baddest fish in the lake. in the stories, mighty mike was so big and so ferocious that no one could catch him and those who happened to hook him would lose not only their lure, but sometimes their rod and reel, and on occasion, a few lost their boat. no one knew just how big mighty mike was or had any idea when he'd strike next. the most unfortunate victim of mighty mike's escapades was frank johnson. everybody called him old man johnson because he was an old coot who'd lived on the lake since he was a young man. he'd built a cabin on the south end and he'd spend most of his summer days tooling around the lake in his little aluminum boat fishing. old man johnson had hooked mighty mike more times than anyone and it seemed he had suffered more than anyone as a result. to his friends, frank was an expert fisherman and he claimed that he had no desire to catch mighty mike. in fact, he was only interested in catching walleye and perch. none the less, mighty mike and old man johnson seemed destined to do battle. some say that their lives were so intertwined because frank had moved to the lake and started fishing it the day mighty mike was born.

this drawing is of a young mighty mike before he started wreaking havoc with unsuspecting fisherman and just before he met frank johnson for the first time.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

o dog of wonder and delight

now you run through the woods and fields all day
and bark at the moon all night
rest in peace my friend
i miss you

sparkinator rex (aka sparky) jan 2000 - jun 2010 what a great dog

momento

a couple of years ago i picked up one of those small black sketchbooks and, using a cheap felt-tip pen, started making little fish drawings. the fish always had noses, i don't know why. then, after a frustrating period of creative angst, i tossed the sketchbook in a drawer and forgot about it. well..i found it the other day while cleaning out the garage. i thought i'd put a couple of these drawings out there in the world so that they don't get lost again.

night time is the right time

when darkness falls the night feeders come to the surface to contemplate the stars and hunt in the moonlight. they see you but you don't see them. not to worry though. when daylight comes, they melt back into the depths and dream.

tiny island

a quiet day on the fishbone. for most of the day, i was doing everything i could to avoid the drawing table. no other reason than being lazy and easily distracted. i've heard from several good friends in the last few days, people i don't get to be with very often, and it makes me want to sit around going through old photographs and staring out the window. finally, i made another pot of coffee and sat myself down. what came to mind was tiny island. a small outcrop of rocks and pines and brush. not easily visited but always intriguing. if i knew how, i'd put this drawing on a 3D animation turntable so that i could rotate around it whenever i wanted to.