My First Digital Mandala

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If you squint, it's practically perfect.

If you squint, it’s practically perfect.

Here’s my confession: it was time to upload Thursday’s mandala, except the crayon series is, of course, hard copy, and we’re caught up with the scans. I would have had to get up off the couch, turn on the scanner, plug it into the computer, open the scanning software, find the next mandala in the series, pull out the scanner from the shelf and then get the paper into it without hurting the scanner or the paper, scan it, refile the original, uncouple and turn off the scanner, close the software, and then upload the file. And this all seemed like an unconscionable amount of work. So I drew this one instead, because the tablet was already plugged in; the stylus was already in my hand.

I have not gotten off the couch in nearly 4 hours.

This is really not something to be proud of.

Up close this design looks pretty amateur hour, especially compared to some digital work you see, but if you shrink it down or look at it from far away it’s not bad. I still did it freehand so it feels like mine but I think I can get more impressive results with better technique and more knowledge.

Today I have to go to Chicago, so I’ve uploaded this mandala in advance. It’s uncertain how regularly I’ll be able to update while I’m away; I’ve got a bunch of other commitments and work on which I’ve fallen behind, and I’m not likely to sleep well on this trip, or have much free time. There will be something, but I’m not sure what.

Dragon Comics 86

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In the short term, though, it seems to work out pretty well. Blood to the brain and all that.

In the short term, though, it seems to work out pretty well. Blood to the brain and all that.

Inversion is good for the spirit. A lot of yogis will tell you that every minute you spend upside down adds a minute to the end of your life, but don’t repeat this information in a room full of military dudes, because they will tell you how long a person can reasonably be suspended upside down before it kills you. So, I would say that, in theory, time spent upside down under your own power may improve your health. Or not. I have no studies on the subject.

When I taught a lot of yoga, I did a lot of handstands. These days, my wrists are not as reliable as they used to be, so I don’t do as many. Instead, I have an inversion table. My friend found it next to a Dumpster and, knowing my affinity for inversion, grabbed it for me.

Another fun fact about inversion is that it can decompress your spine, effectively making you taller.

But being upside down is just fun.

Boobapalooza!

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The artist and the fighter

The artist and the fighter

These are the pictures from Boobapalooza, the event celebrating my friend’s recovery from breast cancer and the well-heeled social circle who helped crowd source her reconstructive surgery after she lost her insurance in the middle of the procedure.

At the party, someone asked me if I realized, when I designed the shirt, if the “Boobapalooza” part would end up directly over the rack of any busty girl who wore it. Well, obviously! It’s actually sort of problem with some of my designs, which are primarily directly at little girls, but still find an audience among grown women. This shirt doesn’t mind if it calls attention to the female figure.

This party took place in a bar downtown called the Dusty Monk. It’s a small space within a much larger complex, a very Tucson sort of space where there is indoor and outdoor dining, live music, and even some little shops. The room was very loud and the food menu was kind of limited, but The Man told me they had all his favorite beers on tap, so I guess that makes it a serious bar. I spent the majority of the party sitting in the corner with some other introverts, even though I actually knew probably 30% of the people in the room. There were a lot of people in there, and it was very loud.

Yep, they took half a dozen photos and only posted the one where my eyes are closed.

Yep, they took half a dozen photos and only posted the one where my eyes are closed.

It was nice to see a lot of folks all wearing my work in one place. This picture shows some of the people who bought the shirt, but clearly not all, because I sold about 15 of them. I love that my friend Cindy, in the back on the left, did a classic mod on her shirt, cutting the sleeves off and then (look close) fringing the bottom. It’s so completely retro. I never learned how to do that sort of thing because the last expression I wanted to transmit in the ’80s was girliness, but it’s adorable here. Too bad I didn’t bring the good camera. You can only capture so much light with a cell phone, so the picture’s not as sharp as it could be.

In case you’re wondering, I did get some of those Mardi Gras beads later in the night. It was Boobapalooza, after all.

Boobapalooza is still available from my shop: T-shirts, stickers, and more.

Dragon Comics 84

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Some people smell what they want to smell.

Some people smell what they want to smell.

Hooray Friday! This one seems to have been a long time coming, but it’s here at last. Finally, I’ll be able to catch up on the rest of my life. Anyway, it’s 1:30 in the morning. I have drawn a comic and now I am tired and I don’t have 100 words to describe this comic, my process, or anything else concerning my art or my life. Happy Friday.

Damselfly Mandala

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You might think these were dragonflies, but you'd be anatomically incorrect.

You might think these were dragonflies, but you’d be anatomically incorrect.

Dragonflies have dissimilar front and back wings, and keep their eyes close together. Damselflies have wings of the same size and keep the eyes on opposite sides of their head. Those are lily pads, though, with rippled water forming the outside edge of the mandala. It’s a cool shape, too. I’d like to do something that maintains the angles and proportions of this form as it expands, with the points and curves alternating and expanding.

Today was rather unproductive for me in general. After biking 3 miles to try West African food (goat soup and fufu cooked by a dude from Benin) for lunch, I took a salsa dance class and then ate chicken and waffles with The Man the Misseses Cat. Now it is very late and this blog still hasn’t been updated and nothing related to visual art will be accomplished today.

I wasn’t a complete waste of brain, at least. In between lunch and the salsa class I spent a lot of time working on my 4th essay for Panel.net, so I did write for a couple hours, but not with the focus that used to consume my writing. Still, I’m pretty excited about this one. My 3rd piece, “I’m Gay, Who’s My Dad?” came out today but did’t seem to get as much traction as the previous 2 pieces. I thought it was a pretty catchy title, but nothing. No comments, no likes, no tweets. But this next one should get a little more attention, I think. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, because I write for myself, of course. The only person who needs to approve of or get excited about my work is me.

But, you know, I do have meaningful things to say, to anyone who wants to listen.

Dragon Comics 83

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Can't we just agree to disagree? No, we can't.

Can’t we just agree to disagree? No, we can’t.

Monday was the first day of spring break. This scenario, more or less, took place at approximately 1 p.m. The Girl really did say something along those lines, too. Sometimes I can’t tell if she is funny on purpose or by accident, but we all had a good laugh. I wasn’t feeling funny today, and she said it was all right to use her gag. I had to change it up a bit to make it work as a comic, though.

Today, in addition to not feeling funny and drawing this comic anyway, I also put up a new T-shirt design, in addition to yesterday’s peacock. It’s the ’52 Ford Bus! Maybe I should do a whole series of rusty classic cars. They’re a lot easier to draw than birds.

Peacock Design at Long Last

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Screen Shot 2015-03-16 at 11.58.27 PM

Vanity Has a Thousand Eyes

This work was a long time in coming, something I tinkered with sporadically for probably about 6 months. For a while I figured it would never be done, but tonight I just went at the last bits and got something I could live with. This design looks pretty boss on this smartphone case, and does its job just fine on a T-shirt. It also makes a particularly stunning throw pillow.

I actually don’t care too much for peacocks as living, breathing creatures. The summer before 7th grade, I went to camp at the Philadelphia Zoo. We had a lot of special privileges, including getting into the zoo 15 minutes before it opened and being allowed to go behind the scenes in a lot of exhibits. There were peacocks, everywhere, taunting me. Every kid there found a peacock feather that summer. Every kid but me.

Well, you say, that’s no reason to hate peacocks. OK. My second year in college I did an internship at an elementary school that kept peacocks on the grounds. For atmosphere, I guess. Peacocks were sort of their mascot. Part of my compensation was the use of a trailer on the school grounds. The compensation wasn’t all that great: besides the trailer I got $25 a week and leftover pizza on Fridays. And not only did I have to share the trailer with the principal’s 12-year-old son (apparently he was so obnoxious that the principal and his wife didn’t want him in the house either) but I had to share the roof of the trailer with a flock of peacocks.

I had a rough time getting to the school; there was an utter lack of communication on the school’s part concerning my arrival, compounded by the fact that I had sprained my ankle earlier in the week. When I finally got to my destintaion, many hours later than anticipated, and with my leg swollen to twice its normal size, I just wanted to sleep. The principal casually mentioned that I might hear some strange sounds in the night, as it was the birds’ mating season. He did not mention that the birds’ preferred mating ground was the roof of my trailer. At 4 o’clock in the morning. He further did not mention that the mating call of a peacock sounds eerily like a small child screaming for help while suffering excruciating pain and abject terror.

Ha ha. Peacocks. They’re terrible birds. The elementary school also kept a potbellied pig, a flock of chickens, and a sheep on the grounds, all of which would have made better mascots. When the peacocks laid their eggs and hatched their babies, the rat snakes ate all the chicks. Rat snakes would have made a better mascot.

Like many creatures, peacocks are successful in the modern world because they are nice to look at. Because if they weren’t, they would have gone the way of the passenger pigeon. Peacocks take irritating to the next level. I understand they were considered quite tasty in the medieval world.

I photographed this proud gent at the local zoo. The Girl and I had lingered after closing time and security had not yet found us to throw us out. I could tell the peacock thought we should leave, but I don’t like to be kicked around by birds, no matter how magnificent their tail feathers may be. If you, like me, enjoy looking at peacocks but would prefer not to experience them in person, consider purchasing “Vanity Has a Thousand Eyes,” now available on a variety of garments and household goods in my RedBubble store.

Dragon Comics 82

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Throw some sauteed garlic and onions into the mix and you have the olfactory equivalent of a whole meal.

Throw some sautéed garlic and onions into the mix and you have the olfactory equivalent of a whole meal.

Honestly, as I was finishing this comic, the kids were in the kitchen without me, baking a cake, which they are able to do more or less on their own at this point in time. The gag came to me when they weren’t even here. They are really connoisseurs of vanilla and double it every single recipe they make, meaning the kitchen smells like a bakery when they made a half recipe of waffles. They already had churros and banana bread today, but The Man is also a sugar junkie and he gave them permission. I don’t really bake at all anymore, except for birthdays and such.

It’s too much cake. I don’t know how we survive.

This weekend was the Tucson Festival of Books, which is in its 7th year, but has apparently become the largest book festival America in that short time. This is not especially surprising, given that Tucson is one of the few places where you can schedule a fair outdoors in mid-March with the assurance that there is almost 100% chance that the weather cooperates with your plans. Who wouldn’t want to spend this weekend here, in the sun?

I didn’t really spend any money this year, primarily because I didn’t have any. In fact, I found $5 on the ground and used it to buy myself dinner. Otherwise, all I bought was a $2 unicorn button for the Girl. This year, I spent a lot more time in panels. I got my copy of Bridge to Terabithia signed by Katherine Paterson and took the kids to 2 back-to-back session with Tom Angleberger, author of The Strange Case of Origami Yoda, who is something of a superstar as far as entertaining a lecture hall full of kids goes. I also got to see Jacqueline Woodson, as well as Marilyn Nelson, both of whom were great speakers.

The book fair is always magical, although it always makes me a little wistful. When do I get to the other side of the table? It’s a busy weekend. I had to bow out of some other engagements to spend as much time as I spent there. I’m always happy to be there (at any fair, really; I like fairs a lot) but I also realize I could spend a lot more time working.

Dragon Comics 81

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Be vewwy vewwy quiet. I'm wistening fow the voice of inspiwation.

Be vewwy vewwy quiet. I’m wistening cwosewy fow the sweet sweet voice of inspiwation.

 

When we were kids, my brother was considered something of a math prodigy. He skipped the 9th grade to attend the Illinois Math and Science Academy and taught at the University of Illinois before he even finished his BA. While he was in college, he told me, laughingly, Paul Erdős’s statement about mathematicians being machines that turn coffee into theorems.

My brother went on to earn advanced degrees from some of the most prestigious schools in the world. On a recent visit, I mentioned that quote to him and he laughed, this time a little bitterly. He said that most mathematicians do their best work before they’re 25, and that if you haven’t had any brilliant and original thoughts in the field before 30, you’re not likely to, ever. It’s like your brain has lost same particular aspect of plasticity that allows it to uncover new truths about numbers.

That’s never been so of writers. It’s the rare author who has both a mastery of craft as well as an interesting story to tell before 30. Maybe authors don’t hit their stride until 40. It’s not at all unusual to come across an extremely talented person who didn’t even start writing until they had retired in their 60s. So age is actually an asset in this field. And I keep telling myself that. It’s not only the facility with words and the understanding of how to structure sentences, chapters, paragraphs, and stories. It’s also the vast increase in life experience: fodder to create stories. And this increases exponentially. I don’t only gain the experience of my own life. I also get the experiences of all the people I talk to, and all the characters in books I read and videos I watch.

There’s absolutely no reason for a person to feel as if they haven’t achieved enough. In the creative arts, your masterwork can still be in the future.