a flyer i designed and illustrated a few years ago...
this is the last serious illustration that i have done in the style that i wish to work in. it is over two years old. the very minute that i free myself of the obligations i am currently living and working under; i will be producing work like this on a regular basis. flyers, illustrations and most-especially: comics.
i like to cross-hatch. i like ink and i like pens and nibs and paper... man, i'm so OBSESSIVE about my pens, which made a conversation i had with one of our interns at work that much funnier to me.
the intern was showing my manager her portfolio today (its her last day) and we were all invited to take a look at it. so, i did. she seemed to do very strong surface-level work (stippling, coloring, etc) but with very little discipline in regards to fundamental drawing ability, composition and anatomy. this is a common problem among people who go to art school i have noticed.
she wants to be an illustrator, you can hear it in her voice. her surface level work IS gorgeous; she just needs to study real hard for a year or two to develop the fundamentals...
instead, what does she do? she listens to her family and enrolls in a graphic design program and ends up interning at a sign shop that HAS NOT TAUGHT HER A FUCKING THING. and, to be completely honest, the girl does not have enough talent or passion (for design, not illustration) to be any good.
she should be waking up everyday and trying to be an illustrator. i mean, shit, i illustrate about 5X better than i design; but i also LOVE design and i am forcing myself to improve at it, just because i can use graphic design to create opportunities for me as an illustrator that would not have existed previously (ie, designing and publishing my own work, etc).
i didn't realize it was her last day and i offered to bring in a book called THE EDUCATION OF AN ILLUSTRATOR to give her, i figured i could just buy a new one eventually. i told her to check it out at least. meh, her future is up to her...
so, i was intrigued by someone who did such gorgeous stippling, that i had to ask:
BK: what kind of pen did you use?
INTERN: huh? they have these pens at the art store that you can dip in ink...
BK: yes. i know. what KIND?
INTERN: they have, like, these tips on them...
BK: i know. what kind of tip?
INTERN: i'm not sure...
BK: did the pen have a really small brown holder?
INTERN: yes...
BK: it was probably a Hunt Crowquill 102
i hate it when people assume i don't know what i'm talking about. for the record, the above illustration was inked with sable hair brushes for the contours and tightened up with a Speedball C6 nib for the details and then cross-hatched with an assortment of really thin Rapidographs and 005 Microns.
***
i hung out with a girl tonight. she had pretty eyes. we went out to dinner at APPLEBY'S. i'm not a big APPLEBY'S fan, but i DO like food so i decided that i didn't really care where it came from.
i was a mess at dinner. despite my own better judgement, i ordered a platter of riblets
. it was served on this huge platter that stood at about 6" off the table, i felt like a little kid trying to reach up to my food.
so, apparently the difference between a rib and a riblet is that the riblet is just chunks of ribs, etc. they are meaty, but the bones are hidden within them, yay! just what a guy who has two FAKE front teeth should be eating. also, i should note that the waitress did not bring me ANY napkins.
so, this poor girl with pretty eyes and a very SWEET personality is sitting across from me, as i start to eat these ribs. i am trying to decide whether it is better to put the whole thing in my mouth and spit out the bones or to pick them apart with my hands and then discard the bones. i opt for the latter.
three minutes later, covered in barbecue sauce, i am trying to pick a riblet apart, when i lose control. it explodes in my hands, sending chunks of rib and bone at her seat and onto her plate.
i pretended that it did not happen.
she handled it okay.
minutes later, i am trying to use a fork to preserve some sense of politeness, i spear two french fries, dip them in ketchup, and, as if i have suddenly developed some food-based version of turrets syndrome, my hand jerks and i launch french fries at the table.
i once again pretend that it did not happen.
minutes later, i reach for my drink and, remember that i have NO napkins and my fingers are COVERED in barbecue sauce, i opt for picking up my soda by squeezing it inbetween my palms like a circus seal, and puckering my lips out to grasp at the straw.
i swear to crap i am retarded.
i think she may have had an inkling of this in advance, as she decided my table manners were "funny" and not rude.
later, we went back to her apartment and listened to one of those radio channels on the TV and played with her cats while talking about various pop-culture based crap.
HER: i've never been to a punk show
ME: oh, well we can change THAT!
HER: do they get rough?
ME: only if you go to the right ones!
HER: yeah, i'm not one of those girls that runs around and hits people and stuff in the pit
ME:
later...
HER: i don't watch many horror movies now that i live alone, they scare me too much.
ME:
later...
HER: ...yeah, it was funny, like EVIL DEAD
ME:
later (the tv has just started playing "alison" by ELVIS COSTELLO)
HER: this song is awful.
ME:
HER: i'm sorry, do you like it?
ME: it's "alison!"
HER: i don't care if her name is jo-anne, it sucks.
later...
HER: yeah, i don't like that guy from CRADLE OF SHITE (CRADLE OF FILTH) he sounds like Cookie Monster.
ME:
ME: "Cruelty and the Beast" is maybe the best metal album i have ever heard in my life.
HER: he sounds like Cookie Monster.
ME:
oh, what a night! she's very nice and friendly and, like i said has pretty eyes, and even though i did want to touch her belly when she was laying on her bed, i don't think its a match. luckily, i think she is under the impression that i am involved with someone, so that probably won't come up and we can stick to hanging out from time to time.
eh. i'm kind of starting to dig this hanging out with girls and not kissing them thing, but cripes, i haven't kissed a girl in like forever, so i dunno, somebody come over and kiss me!
this is the last serious illustration that i have done in the style that i wish to work in. it is over two years old. the very minute that i free myself of the obligations i am currently living and working under; i will be producing work like this on a regular basis. flyers, illustrations and most-especially: comics.
i like to cross-hatch. i like ink and i like pens and nibs and paper... man, i'm so OBSESSIVE about my pens, which made a conversation i had with one of our interns at work that much funnier to me.
the intern was showing my manager her portfolio today (its her last day) and we were all invited to take a look at it. so, i did. she seemed to do very strong surface-level work (stippling, coloring, etc) but with very little discipline in regards to fundamental drawing ability, composition and anatomy. this is a common problem among people who go to art school i have noticed.
she wants to be an illustrator, you can hear it in her voice. her surface level work IS gorgeous; she just needs to study real hard for a year or two to develop the fundamentals...
instead, what does she do? she listens to her family and enrolls in a graphic design program and ends up interning at a sign shop that HAS NOT TAUGHT HER A FUCKING THING. and, to be completely honest, the girl does not have enough talent or passion (for design, not illustration) to be any good.
she should be waking up everyday and trying to be an illustrator. i mean, shit, i illustrate about 5X better than i design; but i also LOVE design and i am forcing myself to improve at it, just because i can use graphic design to create opportunities for me as an illustrator that would not have existed previously (ie, designing and publishing my own work, etc).
i didn't realize it was her last day and i offered to bring in a book called THE EDUCATION OF AN ILLUSTRATOR to give her, i figured i could just buy a new one eventually. i told her to check it out at least. meh, her future is up to her...
so, i was intrigued by someone who did such gorgeous stippling, that i had to ask:
BK: what kind of pen did you use?
INTERN: huh? they have these pens at the art store that you can dip in ink...
BK: yes. i know. what KIND?
INTERN: they have, like, these tips on them...
BK: i know. what kind of tip?
INTERN: i'm not sure...
BK: did the pen have a really small brown holder?
INTERN: yes...
BK: it was probably a Hunt Crowquill 102
i hate it when people assume i don't know what i'm talking about. for the record, the above illustration was inked with sable hair brushes for the contours and tightened up with a Speedball C6 nib for the details and then cross-hatched with an assortment of really thin Rapidographs and 005 Microns.
***
i hung out with a girl tonight. she had pretty eyes. we went out to dinner at APPLEBY'S. i'm not a big APPLEBY'S fan, but i DO like food so i decided that i didn't really care where it came from.
i was a mess at dinner. despite my own better judgement, i ordered a platter of riblets
. it was served on this huge platter that stood at about 6" off the table, i felt like a little kid trying to reach up to my food.
so, apparently the difference between a rib and a riblet is that the riblet is just chunks of ribs, etc. they are meaty, but the bones are hidden within them, yay! just what a guy who has two FAKE front teeth should be eating. also, i should note that the waitress did not bring me ANY napkins.
so, this poor girl with pretty eyes and a very SWEET personality is sitting across from me, as i start to eat these ribs. i am trying to decide whether it is better to put the whole thing in my mouth and spit out the bones or to pick them apart with my hands and then discard the bones. i opt for the latter.
three minutes later, covered in barbecue sauce, i am trying to pick a riblet apart, when i lose control. it explodes in my hands, sending chunks of rib and bone at her seat and onto her plate.
i pretended that it did not happen.
she handled it okay.
minutes later, i am trying to use a fork to preserve some sense of politeness, i spear two french fries, dip them in ketchup, and, as if i have suddenly developed some food-based version of turrets syndrome, my hand jerks and i launch french fries at the table.
i once again pretend that it did not happen.
minutes later, i reach for my drink and, remember that i have NO napkins and my fingers are COVERED in barbecue sauce, i opt for picking up my soda by squeezing it inbetween my palms like a circus seal, and puckering my lips out to grasp at the straw.
i swear to crap i am retarded.
i think she may have had an inkling of this in advance, as she decided my table manners were "funny" and not rude.
later, we went back to her apartment and listened to one of those radio channels on the TV and played with her cats while talking about various pop-culture based crap.
HER: i've never been to a punk show
ME: oh, well we can change THAT!
HER: do they get rough?
ME: only if you go to the right ones!
HER: yeah, i'm not one of those girls that runs around and hits people and stuff in the pit
ME:
later...
HER: i don't watch many horror movies now that i live alone, they scare me too much.
ME:
later...
HER: ...yeah, it was funny, like EVIL DEAD
ME:
later (the tv has just started playing "alison" by ELVIS COSTELLO)
HER: this song is awful.
ME:
HER: i'm sorry, do you like it?
ME: it's "alison!"
HER: i don't care if her name is jo-anne, it sucks.
later...
HER: yeah, i don't like that guy from CRADLE OF SHITE (CRADLE OF FILTH) he sounds like Cookie Monster.
ME:
ME: "Cruelty and the Beast" is maybe the best metal album i have ever heard in my life.
HER: he sounds like Cookie Monster.
ME:
oh, what a night! she's very nice and friendly and, like i said has pretty eyes, and even though i did want to touch her belly when she was laying on her bed, i don't think its a match. luckily, i think she is under the impression that i am involved with someone, so that probably won't come up and we can stick to hanging out from time to time.
eh. i'm kind of starting to dig this hanging out with girls and not kissing them thing, but cripes, i haven't kissed a girl in like forever, so i dunno, somebody come over and kiss me!
VIEW 25 of 30 COMMENTS
hello
PS: youre cute!!!
What book are you talking about? If my work rant made you think of it, I'd love to read it.