For six weeks, the studio has been swamped. Literally, we've been overrun with work. 16 hour days and no time off. Work work work, home, shower, sleep work work work. Now, there's nothing to do. I'm not complaining, I'm just pointing this out as a fact of life in the commercial art world. Much ado is made about feasting and famine(ing) (???) in many businesses. It's good to come off of a project and get some breathing room though, it's invigorating in fact.
So, back to drawing and the turtles, no shortage of work to do, just as long as the non-paying work isn't too extended it's no problemo! Plus, there's Zbrush to practice.
Here's a couple of pages from the ol' sketchbook:
It's weird how pages form. This went from reading notes to phone doodles to notes from a Bible lecture. Which is how the apparently urinating German business man got on there. Of course, the yellow droplets and clown clothes came later, while I was watching "the Good Guys" on Hulu and fooling around with color. I'm not sure what the best is now if from, but I guess it is. Now that is.
Aaaaahhhhh, the Cutlass Supeme. This story is based on one of Lynda Barry's workshops and chronicles the making of my first car, which was actually two cars. I loved that vehicle and I'll always cherish that my Dad and I built it together.
A Mandalorian warrior defying sense. Cephelapod Boba!
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When I was about 8, far too young, I caught most of Amityville Horror on ABC. I was so traumatized by that film that I've never slept easy again. And whenever I'm in a dark room alone, I get freaked out at the thought of seeing glowing red eyes. Yes, I guess I am afraid of the dark. It's not paralyzing, but I usually don't waste any time either turning the lights on or going to sleep.