Tag Archives: 3d

Happy Birthday, Foxy!


Foxes like chickens, according to cartoons I have watched in my squandered youth. 

It’s Fox’s birthday! Happy birthday, Foxy! I made him this Foxy play set, which includes 1 fat little fox, 1 splendid otter, 1 roast chicken, 1 green salad, 1 mushroom pizza (he was so confused last week when I sent him an email that just said, “What’s your favorite kind of pizza?”), 1 gallon of whole milk, and 1 birthday cake. We’re going to have a real life picnic of Jamaican takeout and I will give him this present and maybe even bring 3D Dragon with me, so our alter egos can have a picnic too.


I probably could not ice a real cake so beautifully. My real life chickens look a little bit better, though. 

Normally I wouldn’t post pictures of his present online until after he received it, so as not to spoil the surprise, but the odds are against him reading this blog before I see him.

Broken Pieces Mandala


You break it, you buy it.

Ooh, menacing mirror reflects all-seeing evil in shattered shards. And that’s about what there is to say about this mandala. It’s really deliberately off kilter, smashed fragile things not tending to break in really reliable ways.

This weekend I folded some more cranes–I’m up to 60 now–so it seems like 1,000 won’t be impossible. I just have to keep the paper at hand and can make them when I’m on the phone or doing things that don’t require my hands. Have some ideas about stringing them all together, too. Folding 3 or 4 at a time is vastly preferable to folding 37 in a row.

Photo on 12-6-15 at 7.49 PM #4The Girl liked the rainbow of cranes so I showed her how to do 1, and then she wanted to do some other things: she chose the sanbo, which is like a little tiny box, and a rabbit. She would have liked to learn the lotus flower, which is the only 1 I remembered from childhood–had to look all the other stuff up and puzzle through the directions, which, as any American who’s done origami from a book knows, are always bizarrely confusing–but it was a bit too complicated for her.

Working on one of the “pretty” comics for tomorrow, meaning using photos for source material and getting a very particular style that is still very cartoony in terms of color but maintains some photorealism in terms of shape. The comic itself is still pretty nerdy.

Halloween Insult Comics

You're both so ugly people go as you for Halloween.

You’re both so ugly people go as you for Halloween.

Special fangs to the dear friend  (referred to, here and there in Dragon comics as the Vampire Bat, for reasons that must soon become clear) who sends out Halloween care packages every year and in whose honor this spooky insult comic was created. Most of the items in the image are from this year’s Halloween box; one is from a few years ago, and there’s also a commemorative matchbook for Bonnie Jo Campbell’s first novel, Q Road. You can’t make it out that well, but it’s a pumpkin with a butcher’s knife sticking out of it. Anyway, these buttons cracked me up the most. The jack-o-lantern especially looks like a real jerk.

Sadly, I still live in the desert, so all the chocolate in the Halloween box melted. However, the box itself is pretty nice. 1000 household uses. Skull Face and Jack-o-Lantern may insult each other in front of it again in the future. So spooky!

Ah, it’s all in good fun.

Tomorrow I have a photo shoot for a hair color blog. Financial remuneration has been suggested. Art!

A Barrel of Monkeys

Don't be sad. You're still more fun than a barrel of fish or a barrel or pickles.

Don’t be sad. You’re still more fun than a barrel of fish or a barrel or pickles.

When you think about it, a barrel of monkeys sounds like a real nightmare. Once you open it up, the cat’s out of the bag, so to speak. You’re not going to be stuff them back in. There are going to be raucous, unsanitary primates swinging from your chandeliers and diving into your Cheerios.

I guess when you think about it, sliced bread really isn’t all that great either. It’s not like cutting a slice of bread is some kind of major imposition on your time or energy.

The thing that would really improve my life in a way remarkable enough for me to craft a metaphor concerning its greatness would be a housekeeping robot, one that could tidy up and accomplish deep cleaning tasks. My allergies would especially appreciate a non-breathing apparatus capable of dusting on a regular basis. Yes, I intended to clean my office today, and yes, I chose to do something more interesting and meaningful with my time. So it’s a little bit gross in here, but not as bad as it would have been had someone unleashed an actual barrel full of monkeys.

Found Objects Mandala

Art supplies are expensive. Found objects are not.

Art supplies are expensive. Found objects are not.

Owning a flatbed scanner and having the ability to make convenient facsimiles of 2-dimensional drawings is great, but admittedly, I find the actual act of scanning pages so annoying that tonight I spent and hour constructing a mandala out of rose petals, almonds, glass stones, the spent casings from a nail gun, and plastic Buddha-shaped toothpicks instead of 2 minutes scanning an old design.

My object choices please me. I considered other object, like pennies, quarters, screws, nails (we are doing some work on the front hall), spent glow bracelets, silverware, and cashews, but this feels right. The little rainbow heart in the bottom right is something I made in my Trickster’s Hat period, out of leftover bits of construction paper from a bulletin board. I thought if I started doing more of these, making them more complex, that could be like a signature.

I also thought that what I really want to do a 3-d mandala out of is M&Ms. Well, the Candy Year* is about to begin, so it could happen.

The first cold of autumns appears to be upon, which is wholly unfair, considering it was 95 degrees today. I am not one of those white girl who pumpkin spices everything and loves autumn (regular readers of this blog know I am, in fact, a blue dragon). I freaking *hate* autumn. The changing of the seasons from summer to not-summer depresses me. Cold weather bothers my body and disturbs my spirit. The only thing that I want pumpkin spiced is pumpkin pie, and I only want maybe 1-2 slices of that in October and then however much pie I can eat Thanksgiving weekend. Anyway, I’m sneezing all over the place and really unfocused. Boo.

Today I wrote a rough draft of an article entitled “Powerful Women of Webcomics,” 9 book reviews, and copy for The Man’s new business website, but it doesn’t feel as if I accomplished much. My only other daily accomplishments were taking a 2-mile walk and cooking a delicious dinner of gluten free macaroni and cheese, shrimp scampi, and mushroom and spinach pakoras, all from scratch, obviously. I am not so far gone as to consider making a box of Kraft dinner a daily accomplishment.

I have some more writing to do, and then I will be taking this Nyquil and, if the heavens smile upon me, passing out.

*The Candy Year refers to the period from mid-October to the end of April when people, regularly, every other month, keep giving you treats: as soon as Halloween decoration are up, it begins, with little miniatures and Hershey’s Kisses everywhere; no sooner have you consumed your Halloween candy then you are called upon to help finish up this Thanksgiving pie; the pie being digested, out come the chocolate Santas, Christmas cookies, bouche Noels, and fruitcakes; all this is cleaned up over New Years, and then everyone makes New Year’s resolutions to stay off the sweet stuff until Valentine’s Day rolls around, when you’re offered fancy chocolates and terribly candy hearts; which you still have when you’re suddenly confronted with all those jelly beans and creme eggs in your Easter basket. The candy year ends when people suddenly start considering their summer plans and thinking that they might want to put on a bathing suit again.

The Altar of Experience

Steal your own life.

Steal your own life.

This is my little motivational poster from yesterday when experience kicked me in the head. The really sad part is that the knowledge I took away was something I’ve always known and only periodically forget, which is to save your work, you fool. In my defense, that’s what I was trying to do when everything crashed. This version is pretty cool, but the initial D in the original was so much more elegant. That lettering took about 90 minutes, which seems excessive. Why don’t I improve at calligraphy, something I’ve practiced all my life.

Constructing the altar of experience was a lot of fun. That little artist’s model really isn’t good for much; his legs are different lengths and his his joints don’t move very far and he’s actually not capable of assuming many natural poses. However, he does have magnets in the little wedges that serve as his hands and feet, which has possibilities. I considered a few items he could be holding in a 3D comic before I gave him the book and let him hang upside down. He could hold, for example, a tiny metal sword and shield. The idea for the text came after the visual concept, which never happens with comics, but sometimes does for bulletin boards.

Still have a couple comic ideas kicking around, but this stiff-limbed little wooden fellow has some possibilities. Got a few things in the works.

The Stories of Our Lives

That's so cool! I was actually thinking about getting into smashing the patriarchy myself. Is there, like, some kind of newsletter I could subscribe to?

That’s so cool! I was actually thinking about getting into smashing the patriarchy myself. Is there, like, some kind of newsletter I could subscribe to?

I’m getting excited about writing again. As a few people know, I have written 10 novels. Two of them are bouncing around the Internet, 2 of them have been nudged and prodded by a couple agents and a publisher before whimpering off with their tails between their legs, and most of them just sort of exist. They have plans, but no executions. After completing my last novel, I massive undertaking, I sort of walked away from 25 years of constant novel writing to think about visual art; you can go back to page 1 of this blog and read it in order to get the entire story. It takes a while to tell it.

But I did send the ms for this last novel, an 800 page behemoth, out to the Desert Rats: Rabbit, Fox, and Owl. And I’m just starting to get some feedback on it, and the feedback seems good. The revision actually seems possible. I’m rereading it myself–it’s been about 2 years, I guess–and liking what I have, seeing where it could be tightened, noticing problems that didn’t get fixed in my last pass.

Plus, I’ve been working on a short story in comic form. Short stories are not my forte. I’ve only ever written a couple I was completely happy with. I can do novel, and I can do flash, but short stories elude me. But working in comic form might be liberating. I know the entire story, suddenly. It started out as a 16 panel gag, a short of blunt, deadpan, New Yorker style punchline at the end, but it took 20 panels to get to the end, and by the time I got to the joke it was more poignant than funny I was too invested in the characters to let their troubles be a joke and immediately I started to see the solutions to their problems. Now it’s 56 storyboarded panels, and if I can get out the rest of the dialog and thumbnails and actually find a style and draw the entire thing, I will feel much more confident about my graphic novel project, which is only one chapter from being completely scripted (although I stopped storyboarding before that, when I realize my thumbnails were completely useless and that you can’t put 12 panels on every comic book page if you want the images to actually express something.

As for this photo comic, it’s, as The Man has taught me to think of it, Kaufmanesque, in that I know it’s bizarre and I really couldn’t care less whether or not you think it’s funny. I think it’s funny.