This was so classic and hilarious. Backstory: Hellen and Anthony both had artist-in-residency stints at the Asian Art Museum and were talking about it. If only I had an audio clip of Anthony saying “Jesus GOD.”

So one nutty night at the red velvet cake, I took advantage of Germick’s scanner / kindness and Hellen’s laptop / kindness (thanks you two!) and scanned some crap from my “sketchbook.” I thought I could slowly put some oldies up here as filler. I plan on getting back into the swing of “blogging” beginning with boring banal travel content, but there’s a lot on my mind right now. Plus I’m not quite acclimated.

Oh and for those of you who’ve seen this a million times already, I apologize. Call me a sad one trick pony

ps – Hellen was sitting on Derek’s bed, and Anthony was using the computer, which I conveniently did not draw

Peg turned me onto the app and I usually check it everyday. Daily “outlooks” are written in such a sophisticated, peculiar style of “chinglish.” On top of relationships, family, and career, there’s usually advice about my kidneys, liver, bile buildup, etc.

ps – I apologize for the shoddy quality. Done last night before bed, plus photographed (I don’t have a scanner, take pity on me). And yes I know the three faces don’t match

i’m pretty sure this is an extremely accurate rendering of me. derek did this awhile ago when i was in my occasional manic ranting and raving mode wherein i derail every other minute on tangents.

Hope Germick doesn't mind me sharing this since it is his birthday present, after all. What you see here is the result of: a really shitty inconsistently dry/leaky cheap brush pen, dollar store watercolors, Google image search, and a crazed fervor to pump out a mediocre portrait as a sad gift an hour before the birthday party. I'm not pleased with it, but at least my roommate could tell it was The Purple One, and Peg said she liked it which means a lot (who cares if the birthday boy likes it!). Also, the great thing about screwing up the proportions on Prince portraits is that it's okay, because he is naturally a bobblehead. So in this case, a large head and small body work just fine. PS – the hamminess is intentional. PPS – in the original picture I couldn't find his nipples. True story!

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a repost from what i put up at the electric ant blog. just cuz.

i wasn’t gonna document this until i saw how appropriate the trash “tableau” seemed. after all, i’m garbage and/or trashed (not in the inebriated sense)

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eric is cantankerous, moody, wears scary alan moore jewelry, scowls a lot, and loves to ridicule others if they’re not “metal.” but underneath all that bristly crust is someone who gives big warm hugs, makes funny wisecracks, and always checks in to hang out.

awhile ago, we drew together in a pearl tea shop after dinnerm and it was pleasant. i was surprised i could actually generate anything, having originally resigned myself to being a spectator and not a participant, but i guess i got into it.

i subsequently sketched eric while he was drawing (i later ruined his work), and he said he looked a lot older in my drawing (not shown). commenting on it, i said “hey he’s pretty good looking!” wryly, he responded, “of course you think he’s handsome, he’s like 20 years older.” hardy har har.

ps – while we’re somewhat on the topic of crom, i can’t believe that brett ratner might direct conan….W T F.

ever have one of those moments when you’re in a public space, like say on a bus, and you’re a greasy, exhausted, zombified wreck from traveling and you fantasize about being recumbent and before you know it you wake up with an entire side of your face submerged in your own saliva and you’ve only been out for like 15 minutes?

nope, me neither.

once upon a time, i was riding the bus when this wispy, older homeless lady boarded. after taking a seat, she recounted to the bus driver an incident in which she was basically ganged up on by scumbags who beat her up and took her belongings. it was heartbreaking, yet she was telling it like it was no thang at all. she continued to talk about other things and i began to tune out, but later i heard her quietly say, “i wish i could get those days back.” it was a stirring “wow” moment. what was she referring to? appearing weathered and brittle, she had a lot of stuff in her lap; her voice sounded disarmingly plucky yet defeated.

if i had a quarter for every time…