Sketches and Ephemera

Also from Dawson. Not my Crodmo, but rather his northern, long lost, drunken uncle. Either that or a time traveling, ebullient version of him.

Done while up in dawson. I Miss. S. Gerard.

It’s been a while.

Dawson took up my June, awesomeness took up July and now sadness is beating me down in August.

Still though, here’s a recent drawing. More to follow.

I found this cute as a button little bugger on the sidewalk on my way to the studio. Placid outside of a Portuguese bakery.

He has a resting place now in the bowl of Trinity-Bellwoods. A nice bed in the dirt covered with last year’s leaves and a shady hours to live in the infinite.

Who’s kidding who though as he’s (yes, he) surely been unearthed by one of the many dogs that will soon outnumber hipsters in this city.

The countdown is on and the count is down to 1. Sad, sad to see him go home.

I dunno who they are but the guy had a funny little beard thing. Kinda like some small fur-bearing animal was hitching a ride to look at comics.

Yep, Joe. From my yearly run-in with Mr. Ollman

The good Mr. Brisson is another once-a-year friend. Still cute as a button if you throw apples at buttons.

JJ… where’s your B?

Ms. Lucy Pevensie

Lucy

Lucy-fur

Bad Seed

Mr. Boo Radley

Boo

Indigni-kitty

And you shall know us by our multitude of names.

Hello

Mr. Clean Pants

Pants Plus

The Pants

Dude (but all males are known to me as “dude”)

Someone buy me a 40

Once again, doing what I said I’d never do… crossing the streams of art and cycling.

Sorry though to Kale as there’s still no way I’m buying an “art bell” for my bike.

As some lame get-out-of-jail card I’ll say this is just practice for my upcoming month in Dawson City with the most likely awesome folks at KIAC. A month where I’ll repeatedly cross the streams. Streams of many sorts I should think as Brandon has told me that, while food costs more, beer costs less.

Ramble. As you can see this unit comes in both saturated and dee options.

Sword maker, pig rider. The Genuine hillbilly article is back.

Work yer magic my friend!

Back from the fucking dead!

What was written here before was written by an asshole named me.

Instead: Here is a man (above) who did what I try to talk people out of, but ended up loving it and spreading the joy. So what the fuck do I know?

Arghh… Proven wrong in Penticton.

Rather than John’s charming and malformed simpleton portrait, you’ve retained your faculties but at a price.

Smart as a whip not as smart as a bullet, eh, College Boy?

When I die I want the world to know me. Hey world, this is the mess I made.

The frontier is a place where you use the past to build a future (so writes Kathleen Norris).

Finally, I feel productive. after getting almost nothing done over the Christmas break. I learned alot though, that’s for sure.

From a recent trip to Ottawa. Highlights included staying at Randy’s (from where this image began) and meeting the Minister of National Defence. 2 Celebrities in 1 trip!

The best pedal platform ever. That’s right… ever! Don’t even get me started on the SPD family.

Also, you’re witnessing a large transgression of my rule to never combine art and cycling. The other week I started buying milk at 7-11, another thing I said I’d never do again.

What more is there to say?

Wheeeee!!

Not only albino on occasion, but also, it seems, quite large (the squirrels, not Patrick).

He of brunches, bedtime readings and the occasional hug. And in this case, Dr. Horrible fandom

For Shannon on her birthday of late. Just chop the head off the damned thing.

Sigh.

Doodles done intermittently while The Kid and I had breakfast at KOS, saw Fantastic Mr. Fox! and then had a snack at Tim Hortons (on Bay near Bloor).

Also, I didn’t eat both scrambled and fried eggs. It was just the fried version.

His nose ain’t this wide. Sorry dude.

The man hidden by 17 years of distance is there plain as day.

I’d said to myself, “How fast can you paint a half full pint glass in acrylic on paper?” The answer equals The Second half of Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King.

Once I finished the painting though, I went back and watched the battles properly. I have such a soft spot for giant flying lizards and homosocial midgets.

For Ian as he trundles towards the 40s.

I was watching (sigh) Wheel of Fortune when I painted this. It was “Pet Week” and while I was hoping for something akin to an episode of Martha Speaks, it was actually just shut-ins who’d been pried away from their stock-piles of cats to win some Big Money.