Bendy

If you have not read The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern yet, you should absolutely do so. Especially if you are an artist, or a dreamer, or wanted to be a magician when you grew up (I was a total magic geek!)

"The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. Within the black-and-white striped canvas tents is an utterly unique experience full of breathtaking amazements. It is called Le Cirque des Rêves, and it is only open at night".

It is the most wonderfully imaginative book I have read in years. Years, I tell you! Seriously, I'm not going to say a whole lot more about it, but you must check it out. 


Anyway, I read it over my Christmas vacay and am well into my second reading. It has inspired me. I have started a new set of art based on things from this amazing book. Once I am done with my Sketchbook Project project I will devote myself to it as much as I'd like, but I'm woefully behind on my Sketchbook...

In any event, I thought I'd post a little sneak peek of where I'm going with these. Sort of a faux paper cut style.

My first piece:  The Contortionist.

Mewey Christmas

or something like that!
Out for the next few days, but I  hope everyone has a wonderful weekend and most merry of Christmases!

subway angel

Still reading (and loving!) all the poems from dVerse, but finished this and thought I'd go ahead and put it up here.
For the Sketchbook.

Art In Poetry In Art (in poetry [in art...]...)...

So my dear bloggy friend, Brian Miller, has given me the distinct honor of using some of my art for his hosting of the dVerse poets site today. It doesn't go live until 3pm (est) but he started the ball rolling with this most lovely of poems.
** update ** dVerse is  now live. To see the poems go to comments and click on each blogger's link and it will take you to the site to read the poems. (You can't see me, but I am so doing the happy dance right now!)

Be sure and check out the other offerings, I'm sure they will rock almost as much as Brian's.

Poetics: Balloons & Dirigibles

You want to see the world?
You want to see the world?

Let me fix you a cocktail
     one part Crash, cause it hits every angle
     mix in some P.S. I love you
     stir with Hotel Rwanda
     and garnish with a spritz of Once

Watch them all in one night, no matter
how your eyes sting, not from lack of sleep
but where the shards of what ricochets
round your chest scRaTCHes tunnels
out your tear ducts, one spoonful at a time
like Edmond Dantes,

“Moral wounds have this peculiarity -
they may be hidden, but they never close;
always painful, always ready to bleed when touched,
they remain fresh and open in the heart.”

But tonight I am in McDonald's & she
is wiping trays, with a white rag speckled
in slight stains

swipe
        stack
swipe
        stack
swipe
        stack
swipe

they say she is touched, fucked up or just
REtard-ed (oh, how i hate that word)
with their looks or stance or awkwardness
as they pass with perfect polished balloons
& she a dirigible, which may seem more
powerful but pulls her here & there, especial-
ly when she opens her mouth as her face

goes sideways, everything rolling gravel,
elongates & does a twist as it passes her lips,
so she mostly
               just smiles

Kids love her, gather at her ankles
with empty trays, cheeks red sun rays
at the twinkle in her eyes, opposite the ones
that turn away as if she is contagious, or act
oblivious in ignorance

The kids though they know she is a special
kind of beautiful---
        my son pops in the last nugget of his
        happy meal, seals the red & yellow box
        with prize inside and goes to slide
        out the booth, tray in hand, but i intercept
his pass, not wanting to miss the chance to intersect

& say "Thank You" just to bask in those pearly whites
so brite i'd hate to pay the light bill, on our way out
as the credits roll on just thirty minutes of life at McDonald's,
so tell me

You want to see the world?
You want to see the world?

Let me fix you a cocktail, better yet,
try taking a trip on a dirigible.


-brian miller

Playing around with some old art

About 100 years ago - well, okay, maybe more like 20... I did a few sketches of some fairies. Dunno exactly what I was going to do with them, maybe a calendar or something.
Anyway, not too long ago I found them in an old folder, so I thought I'd scan them and then do my digital "thing" with them to update them.

Here's the first one, my Ice Fairy.

Changing Lanes with Brian Miller

I love reading Brian's blog, Waystation One. His poems are awesome. Often they provide vivid imagery and sometimes I can't resist drawing for one of them.
This was his post a couple days ago and my picture:

 Changing Lanes (or A roadtrip with Poe)

The car is out of control, careening corners
and Edgar Allen Poe has commandeered the radio

Every channel he turns to the songs are so dour,
and between them, even using his happy voice,
dj E.A.P. can't make the news more bleak---

He mumbles something about populous pits
and politicians controlling the pendulum,
or---maybe he said asylum, it was his
third point so i forget.

Looking east, I wish on satellites, somewhere
over Georgia in decaying orbits, a 'little
change in my pocket' and though it may
be little, it is Change, You Can Believe In,
at least what is left after taxes---

We dreamt once, but the raven's wings
blot the horizon & without the sun we've lost
direction, we just sing along to songs replaying
but don't stop to think what the words are saying

"Nevermore, nevermore," I hear, then ask

"What?"

He sighs, "Take me back to Baltimore,
so I can Usher in the Apocalypse."

Brakes squeal, smoke from our tires passing us,
"Get out! I know you been here before, so poor
you burned the furniture, but I can't take it anymore.
You may wall yourself up in the wine cellar, but
as long as I have two cents to rub together to keep
warm and share, I  refuse to settle for a better future
we won't recognize when we see her."

He stares grim, then the raven once more hugs
his head from behind, covering his eyes

And my heavy heart settles in my foot on the gas
leaving his last words hanging, "For the love of God!"
by the side of the road

Out the window, I answer, "Yes, For the love of God!"
because, I refuse to become another disillusioned victim, just
in time to hear a campaign ad come over the radio, so sing
at the top of my lungs---

"Don't gimme no lines, an' keep your hands to yourself."

 

New art listed on Storenvy

I have a new shop at an online store: Storenvy! I'm going to be listing some of the same stuff I have listed at my Etsy stores, but it will have a lot of different things as well, such as the pictures from my Sketchbook Project from last year.

I have the following listed and more!