I've Already Shown You Most of The Good Stuff I Can Fit On My Scanner. This Is What's Left. Enjoy the Inanity.

I haven't really posted up any artwork for awhile, so I thought I'd flip through the old sketchbook and see what I could find. This stuff is about the freshest "art" I got. I make no promises about the quality of this stuff, just that I drew it, and it's not a rant about Cheney. I get tired of thinking about that stuff, too, so I thought I'd give you folks a break from having to read it.

On with the show! The first image is of my brother, Patrick. I drew this with a Sharpie from a photo from one of the photo romans we had to do our first year. In my opinion, this is probably the funniest photo I've ever seen, and certainly the funniest I've ever taken. He must have been about 11 or 12 at the time. (The other actor in this brilliant roman, incidentally, was my sister). This shot is of the pushy trick o' treater demanding more candy than my sister gave him. He's pointing into his bag of candy as though to helpfully show where additional treats might be placed. The photo roman concludes with Shannon slipping a razor blade into a full-size 3 Musketeers and then giving it to him. It's one of the best things I did in film school. I thought my sibs did good work for me.

Later, Patrick proceeded from a punk-kid actor (as shown) into a brooding adolescent actor, starring in high-school plays and a 7-(or so) hour PSA about drunk driving. He was really good in it, actually. I actually believed he'd driven drunk and plowed into a car filled with teenagers. That it happened on a football field didn't affect my suspension of disbelief in the slightest. Man, did he kill a lot of teenagers.

Anyway. This next image is of a model from the JCrew catalog. I just drew the face because that was the hard part, and I would have just wasted a lot of pencil lead drawing out her boring suit thing. For some reason I imagine the JCrew models, after the photo shoots at rustic (but never "dirty") upstate farms, retiring to tastefully-decorated Brooklyn apartments where just the right amount of sunlight shines through clean windows in which they lay across overstuffed armchairs reading books people think they're too pretty to understand. You know, like The Devil Wears Prada. They also come off as kind of cold. This may be one of those things that says more about the interpreter than about the interpreted. Let's move on before I reveal too much.

This final image is yet another testament to my narcissism. A whole page of self-caricatures. I did these in Sharpie also. Before you start thinking I'm hopelessly self-involved ("start?") I should say that I was going through photographs trying to draw something up that I could use as my little avatar picture for this blog. I settled on the thing I posted up a little while back of me in the funny hat, but these were the rejects. The one in the center cracks me up. I made myself look so fiercely Down's.

In other news, my grandmother Jean got married for the 2nd time in her life today to a Georgia Tech grad, former NASA employee, and generally cool old-timer, Ted Taylor. They got married at my aunt's house in Cypress in a small ceremony. Congratulations to them.

At any rate, more blog action tomorrow.