Thursday, June 9, 2011
I spent seven years in a place called Dripping Springs, Texas. We had goats that lived in a barn at our high school, there was a barbecue smoker directly outside the biology hall, and the Ag. teacher had students shoot and bring in dead squirrels for the annual taxidermy fiesta. It was a colorful time in my life, and although it goes against everything I believed when I was actually living there, I sort of miss it from time to time and a faint, mesquite-scented poof of longing emits from the nostalgia lobe of my brain. This sometimes manifests itself in an insatiable desire to draw armadillos. So that's pretty much what I did.
This guy is the predecessor of the little gargoyle Bertram from a couple of posts back. Although it was fun to paint this on a piece of wood, I realized that it would be an almost complete nightmare to animate all this... stuff! He needed a good dressing down, but I still keep this little piece of board on my bookshelf for company.
A couple of recent sketches that I wanted to preserve for posterity! I like how diabolical the old man looks. In high school I had this unshakable curse where everything I drew, even when it was supposed to be dark or scary, always ended up turning out cute. I guess I'm proud that I can draw things now that don't look like they're about to give you hugs. Oh, you know, except for the little dragon guy, there. He looks like a hugger.
I really like playing around with vectors in Photoshop because you can get that Toon Shader look without having to go anywhere near Maya! Also, the pen tool is very zenlike. No particular significance to the dog other than how I think he's cute.
So years ago my friend Annelise and I were in this strange competition thing where we tried to come up with an idea for an animated pilot that the Disney Channel might think about funding. Our idea was called 1001 Simple Spells, and followed the lives of two excruciatingly average children in their hilarious journey to become the Greatest Wizards Ever. Their guide and mentor along this journey is Mrs. Euphegenia Crenshaw, a feisty, ancient half-senile old witch and her anthropomorphic spellbook. We didn't win, probably for excellent reasons, but the idea's always stuck with me and I kind of want to keep going with it.
Here's Euphie's kitchen, a mix of the modern and the completely archaic. The electric cauldron is the glue that holds any wizarding home together and the mismatched cabinets add a hint of lopsided whimsy to any shindig, hootenanny, or box social, magical or otherwise.