Friday, March 7, 2014

Bovine Picture Day


Last night was the opening of a group show I participated in called "Found in Translation." 

"Found in Translation is a group exhibition making use of a process similar to a game of Telephone or Exquisite Corpse. An object is made and passed chronologically amongst participants whom then make a work in reaction to the one they receive, being sure to maintain a clear formal or conceptual connection to the previous piece. Each artist only sees the piece immediately preceding her or his own and gives their work to the next person for inspiration. This creates through-lines that become visible only after all the pieces have been placed side by side for the exhibition." - Description from the press release. 

Here's a photo of the piece by artist Leif J. Lee that was the inspiration for my piece.



And here's a look at snippets from each piece that show the threads between each artwork.

I'm very excited to be part of this show which can be seen until March 28th at The Lodge Gallery in the lobby of Allied Works Architecture at 1532 SW Morrison and SW 15th in Portland.

Friday, February 21, 2014

Martin Get's A Makeover


For those of you who have followed my blog you may remember this guy from some years past. He's also featured in the "Stories" section of my website. Last month I decided to revisit ole' Martin and give him a proper portrait. Please enjoy his story written by my friend Aaron Greyson, and stick around to the end to see the original portrait from June 2010. 

The Hated World of Martin M. Martins

Martin M. Martins, fourth earl of North Northbridge, hated his family. He hated his lazy brother, his humpbacked sister, his dead father, and his dying mother. He also hated his house, most shoes, and the color green. He hated that he hated his stupid breakfast because he knew he had to eat it or his dying mother would get after him (again) for hating everything in his world, which was, Martin M. Martins thought, a typical example of her insufferable penchant for over-exaggeration. "I do not hate everything, mother," he would hiss at the bed-ridden woman through his wooden teeth (the real ones fell out because he hated brushing), "I simply do not understand why one should abase oneself with fictitious happiness when said emotion is, as I've told you before, a construct born of our unwillingness to admit that there is no such thing as love." At this point, his mother would usually tell him to "Go shit in the sea, you sour little man," which only reminded him how much he hated being little.

If there was one thing which Martin M. Martins, fourth earl of North Northbridge, hated more than anything else in the entire world, it was shopping. Nevertheless, shop he must, at least for food, such as eel, which he hated slightly less than other food, such as rabbit. In fact, he was actually looking forward to a nice boiled eel served with a side of pickled cabbage when he walked smack into a woman older than his hated mother, with skin drier than his hated father, a back humpier than his hated sister, and an eye lazier than his hated brother. "Get the hell out of my way, you ruddy crone," he grumbled as unpleasantly as he could. Yet, despite the gypsy's warts and fleas, Martin M. Martins' face twitched into what might pass as a grin of genuine joy for the old witch smelled of cabbage - nay, pickled cabbage. And though her years might be as long as her crooked nose, the hag's eyes were as keen as a headsman's axe.

"Ye codgery ol' bag'o'hate," she hissed at him, "Be ye so 'fraid o'love and happ'ness ye cannae admitit t'yer lonesome self?" She raised a skeletal finger, knobbed, gnarled, and twisted as the devil's horny backbone, fixing the hateful man in it's bony sights, and pronounced her curse: "Yer joy shall evermore follow ye 'round, undisguis'ble, bright as the day is long." She then turned from Martin M. Martins, fourth earl of North Northbridge, who was so relieved to be rid of that hated she-devil that he actually did allow himself a full smile (though it looked more like a grimace, I can assure you). No sooner did his face crease than, to his surprise and what would turn out to be his eternal consternation, a butterfly, bright as the day is long, alighted on shoulder.




Thursday, January 2, 2014

Beach Bathing Capybara


Happy New Year everyone! Please enjoy this illustration of a capybara relaxing beachside with his bird buddy. 

Here's to soaking in the sun in 2014!

Thursday, December 19, 2013

Darth Paul


I'd like to note that the above image does not reflect any personal or negative feelings I have towards my Grandfather. I'm just a big fan of puns.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Scrunched Face


I didn't have any specific stylistic intent for this drawing of my grandmother, but I am very happy with the results. 

This is what happens when I sit down and draw something quickly and intuitively. 

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Jellyfish Tattoo



In keeping with the conversation started last week on style here are two stylistically different versions of the same drawing.

Which do you think is more effective?

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Stylin'


I've been experimenting with different styles these days, which also means revisiting some old styles. One common misconception about art is that every artist has one distinct voice, but the truth is that art is never a stagnant thing. It's always moving around and changing. A single piece of art has the possibility of going in a hundred different directions and who knows if the final product is the best incarnation of that idea? I'm constantly struggling with which direction to go in in my art, which probably accounts for the erratic nature of some of the pieces you see on this blog. Sometimes you just want to do it all!

Above is a drawing of a friend of mine from a photo I took over four years ago. If you're curious, here are some drawings I was thinking about when I did this one.