The Iceman Cometh

This is a celebratory post, in honor of my best friend and sweetheart, Matthew. I married him a hundred years ago, and love him immensely. Today he learned that he's been accepted to flight school! He was one of only 50-odd people selected out of over 200 applicants, and yet I think somewhere in his head he believes they made a mistake. I, however, have seen him in action as an NCO in the army, and the dude's GOT it, whether he knows it or not. Hopefully, this school will make clear to him the great potential that everyone else already sees.

So there it is. A budding pilot-to-be; a dream he's been aiming for for ages. And along with the changes in lifestyle, location, and career, this means many exciting new twists and turns in the coming year, for both of us. I'm very proud of him!

...This also means I'm going to have to rent "Top Gun" again, as my "Maverick" references are very limited. Congratulations, babe!

Just Like Bingo Pajama

If you've ever read Tom Robbins' "Jitterbug Perfume" you'll know of the tale of Bingo Pajama, whose thoughts were so pure that he eminated a perfume to which bees were drawn, resulting in a crown, of sorts, made entirely of bees. This is my take on that premise; A woman (whose bodily rhythms are said to be influenced by the cycles of the moon) whose inner glow attracts moths to her, competing with even the moon itself. Moths, by the way, are attracted to flame because of an inner working navigating itself into position based on its relativity to the moon. In any case, I just thought it was a fun idea. Moths make me smile.

Sometimes You're the Bird....Usually, You're the Windshield

I have another Moleskine sketchbook in which I'm keeping a collection of illustrated stories from my childhood. Here is one such story: We lived in Liech, Germany, in a small apartment on the second floor of an old building, above a bakery. Every morning we woke to the fantastic smell of broetchen fresh from the ovens, which would rise up the steep steps to my family's apartment. (Once, I took two steps down those stairs, and tumbled all the way down them, like in a cartoon.) One wintery day, my mother asked me to take the garbage downstairs to the dumpster behind the bakery. On the way, I looked down to find a shiny 5-mark coin, lying face up and magestic in a pile of sidewalk snow. Like accepting a gift from the skies, I excitedly plucked it from the snow, ecstatic about the prospect of my newfound fortune. I stood and smiled, reflecting on my luck. Suddenly I felt a jolt...something wet...and discovered at that moment, to my great displeasure, that a bird had pooped directly in the middle of my head. ...That's always been my luck.

With Your Feet in the Air and Your Head on the Ground

I've been drawing buried people lately, covered up in sand. I don't know why, but for some reason, it's very relaxing. Plus I have a thing for sand crabs. I used to lie on the beach in Hawaii, no one around for miles and miles and watch these little sand crabs pop out, run across the sand, and pop back down. For some reason they, along with the ocean waves, made for a soothing little soundtrack. In any case, I thought I'd do a series of these, since they're so fun. I might need more wall space.

It's My Personality...

I've always heard the urban legend about the "tragic" fates of the cast of "Our Gang." According to Snopes (which I consider the be-all, end-all of urban legend issues), there WERE a few tragedies, but most of the cast's deaths were pretty uneventful in the whole scheme of things. Stymie died of heart failure at age 56, Spanky died of a heart attack at age 54, Porky died of cancer at 72, and Darla died of hepititis at 57, to name a few.
Alfalfa was always my favorite, though, and his end WAS a little unusual. Evidently, he worked as a bartender and a hunting guide, and ended up getting shot at age 31 from a dispute over $50. I was just thinking how even though Alfalfa was an adult by then, probably trying desperately to live down his childhood superstardom, I can't help but still think of him as the loveable little dude with the "personality" sticking straight out of his head.

In The Land of the Blind...

This is an oldie. I've got it framed in my living room. I was thinking about vanity, and how much time people spend worrying about looks and beauty, when there are people out there who can't just slap on some lipstick, get a new 'do and feel like a supermodel. Something like having no jawbone kinda puts a damper on the whole male model gig. I think that's why I liked Palahniuk's "Invisible Monsters" so much. Who are you when looks REALLY aren't a factor?

Don't They Ever Stop Migrating?

This, if you can't tell, is Ms. Tippi Hedren in Hitchcock's "The Birds." I actually did see this movie, and it might just be my generational bias, but I found it quite silly. I couldn't help it. Like most older movies, I'm sure it was horrifying at the time. I just couldn't help but giggle. I tried to amp up the silliness by using the ever-popular (and quite sily) M-shaped birds.

In A Van Down By The River

Poor Chris Farley. What can you say? Too much booze, drugs, and hooker's'll really take a toll on a man, I guess. I used to love him on SNL and in Tommy Boy, before Adam Sandler made memorable movies, and before Phil Hartman was shot. There was an awesome SNL skit of a bunch of 'roid ragers with wifebeater shirts on, acne, and teeny tiny fake legs, where Farley kept saying, "Who's with me, fellas?" and no one would respond. He was hilarious. I think one mistake I made was looking at closeup photos of Farley dead and bloated in his apartment. Now, alongside the memory of the burley Chippendale's chubby dancer, I get a sick image of him dead on the floor. ...In hindsight, maybe that was a bad idea.

And Now for Something Colorful

I haven't posted in a while...Way too much going on! But here I am, and I was aware of the lack of color in my recent posts, not to mention being tired of looking at Tara's vacant smile, so here's an oldie but goodie. It's a children's book picture for a story that exists only in my head, about a pompous princess who assumes the world revolves around her. If you'll notice, though, you can only see the backs of the heads of the people in the crowd, as she smiles away. (I really like that hand, though.)

Wardrobe Malfunction My Butt

This is Tara Reid. Remember her "wardrobe malfunction" at Cipriani's in New York City for PDiddy's birthday party? I mean, she's just smiling away for the paparazzi cameras with her entire boob hanging out. There was a lot of talk about that bare boob looking like a botched surgery job, so I imagined this franken-boob. Now maybe it's because I usually only wear tshirts and jeans, but I've never in my life had as many problems with "coverage" as celebrities do today! I could see if it happens once in your life, but 4 times in a month? I mean, is it that hard to get out of a car discreetly--or wear underwear, for that matter? The only explanation is that either these stars are completely delusional about their wardrobes, or they're doing it to get attention. Either way, it's hilarious.

I Stick My Neck Out for Nobody

This is Bogart. ...Humphrey Bogart. Evidently, the title of this post was said by his character in "Casablanca," but I've never seen it. I love this ballpoint pen drawing, and eventually I want to paint it. I considered cropping it for this post, but one of the things I love about it is that it's long and thin, and I have a thing for painting thin compositions. I don't remember my reference for this sketch, but I made up my own story for it. It came from a book of photos about Bogart movies. I realize I'm Bogie-illiterate, but again, I blame my love of black & white movie photos. I thought I could experiment by putting something lying at his feet, like the slumped body of Barney the Dinosaur, or a giant clown, or a mime. That would be kind of funny.

Alright, Meow Where Were We?

Meow, what is so damn funny? Do I look like a cat to you? Do I drink milk from a saucer? Do you see me eating mice? Not so funny meow, is it? ...Anyway, it's a toad. And obviously, he's trying out his interspecies language skills. I just made the "Supertroopers" reference because it's one of my favorite parts. ....MEOW!

Pull the Strings!!!

This, of course, is Mr. Dracula. Wait, is it Lugosi? Karloff? I forget. I just wanted to inject a little color back into the posts, albeit somber color. It just reminds me of the old movies my dad loves. He said on occasion he'd pop in a movie that used to scare the bejeezies out of him as a kid, only to discover that current technological advancements in the ways of special effects have really soured some of the fear he used to feel as a kid. Sometimes, you just can't go back. ...In other news, I used a new kind of paint for this one; a brand of goache my mother let me try. It was nice.

Ready For My Closeup, Mr. DeMille...

When we first moved to Texas, I was horribly disheartened by the lack of job opportunities in the area. Answering a newspaper ad for a graphic illustrator which contained only a phone number, I begrudgingly called. The prospective job was nearly an hour away, and payed a pocket-scorching $7 an hour. The owner, however, was very confident in his status, and very distrusting of the talents of the applicants thus far, and asked me to bring a test, of sorts. "I want you to draw me a toaster, a still life, and a sketch of yourself. Bring it to the interview, and we'll see what skills you've got." I did the drawing, although you might notice from my sketch my enthusiasm about the situation. In the end, I didn't even bother showing up. Good thing, as it turns out. I got a better job anyway.

A Man's Gotta Do What a Man's Gotta Do...

Another ballpoint pen and Sharpie drawing, from my 1950's movie book. It's Gary Cooper in High Noon. Evidently, that movie was filmed in 1952, and was 85 minutes long. Eighty-five minutes! And now there are all these movies over three hours! Anyway, I stretched his face a bit. I like it that way. I love the darks and lights, and the wrinkles on his face were so much fun.

Oh, Brother!

This is John Goodman, from "Oh, Brother, Where Art Thou?" which, if you haven't seen it, is an awesome movie, and you must run to get a copy. Don't even bother renting. Just buy it. John Goodman played the Cyclops, who, among other events, squishes a toad (who may or may not have been one of the primary characters) after gestating. Hence the bib with the lobster on it. Anyway, it's done in ballpoint pen. I like the look of black, white, and red, so I often add a bit of red to a sketch to perk it up a bit. ...Dang, he looks happy, doesn't he?

Who You Callin' a Psycho?

Tyson bit off part of an EAR. I don't know much about boxing--I'm into UFC--but I'm pretty sure they don't allow for ear-biting. I could be wrong. So here's my Tyson. It's just amazing to me that a guy capable of biting your ear off could have the voice of a six-year old.

Sourpuss

I can't help it--I am fascinated by celebrity news. It's like watching an ant farm or sea monkeys--I am so confused by how our interpretation of "normal" changes when people become rich and famous. This is Renee Zellweger, who's famous for her sourpuss. She has a little pouty mouth. I love drawing caricatures, but I'm not nearly as good at it as the ones on Gallery of the Absurd. Still fun, though!

Don't Let's Start

This is an oldie but a goodie, probably from around 1998 or '99. Again, I love the old black & white photos. I don't remember who this is, but I have a book on Humphrey Bogart, and a book on Frederic March, so maybe it came from one of those. Usually, I take bits and pieces from various sources and combine them to make my own little scene. A hand here, a face there, a background from somewhere else. That's why I call my site "Mockingbird Ink." Mockingbirds do the same thing with their songs. Anyway, it was done in ballpoint pen with a Payne's Gray acrylic wash, with some acrylic touches. I did a mock-up once of this as a cover for a They Might Be Giants single called "Don't Let's Start." It would've made a great cover! I think maybe recycled paper case, with this on the cover. Yes?

Brought To You By the Letter "M"

Here's another sketchbook page, of one of my favorites, Jim Henson. I wrote to him before he died, and he sent back an autographed photo, and a signed form letter. It was awesome! I have it hanging in the hallway. I always thought it would be cool to work at the Creature Shop. I love the Muppets. I love Fraggle Rock. I love The Dark Crystal. Jim Henson was the best!