Uninformed, or Old and Infirm?

 

Or just uniformly old?

Does it matter? Not much; never mind. As it happens, I was a little hazy to begin with, so there’s not much worry about the old marbles disappearing. Who really needs marbles anyway, except for a game-playing champ or, say, Michelangelo. For me, the touch of lunacy just adds a little color and a lively element of surprise to my everyday existence.pen & ink

Scaredy Coot

My fears are principally these:

Of sharks, the dark; of killer bees;

Of speeding cars and drunken louts

That race them through the roundabouts;

Bloodsucking leeches; of the kind

Of beasts that populate my mind

In doctors’ offices; of tests

That only earn me second-bests;

And most of all, I fall in tears

Lest someone should unmask my fears!

 

In Search of Tech-Know Progress

 

colored markers on paperWhen I post drawings, they almost always require a digital tweak or ten to be clean and sharp enough for putting up on view. Most of the time, it’s merely the need for getting rid of visible dust and scratches or evening out the tone across the piece to more accurately reflect the appearance of the original, stuff like that. Even a direct high-definition scan doesn’t eliminate all of the little oddities.

No doubt there are endless ways to do what I do to the images much more simply and cleverly and efficiently. But having as little technological skill and wisdom as I have, I must content myself with doing in a hundred steps what others can do in ten. At least until I have the time, the money and the gumption to get the necessary education, anyway.

Still, slow and ambling and rambling as I am, I get the occasional urge to mess around with the existing drawing and manipulate it further digitally. Silly, yes, given that it takes me eons to do the first drawing part and a multitude more ages to do anything further via the digital medium. But you know how these things are: inspiration or perspiration, it’s all a command one has to obey once the Muse prods me in that direction. Here’s last night’s drawing (above), followed by the series of phases I put it through today. That is all. For now.digital image

digital image

digital image

digital image

digital image

digital image

digital image

digital image

digital image

 

The Insomniac

P&I drawingR.E.M.

Under a slab

Of cement I sleep,

Wilderness heavy,

Sorrow deep;

Sorrow deep,

Archaeology old,

Running through

Corridors untold—

Racing the hallways

Of my dreams,

Ankles shackled,

With muffled screams;

With throttled throat,

I strive to wake,

Covered in cobwebs

I cannot shake;

Cobweb-bound,

Imprisoned in doom,

Under concrete,

In the dreamer’s tomb.

Just a Couple of Odd Fellows

graphite drawingUnendurable

Ulf was our unctuous uncle

who was uglier than a carbuncle

so we tried to disguise

him from unwary eyes;

but he also stank worse than a skunk’ll.

graphite drawingExpedition Down the Tube

A fellow, exceedingly thin,

Got his auto prepared for a spin;

When he checked the exhaust,

He was sucked in and lost,

Since when nobody knows

Where he’s been.

The Villain of the Piece

charcoal on paperExercise in Mischief

Weaving webs of intrigue

And knotting people tight

Is such a nasty pastime

But it keeps me warm at night!

Beware of Bad Luck & Worse Deeds

mixed media sculpture

If you can’t make a grand entrance, at least try to make a spectacular exit . . .

Talk about Relief!

The way my insurance is freighted

With small-print and guilt, and prorated,

I find that this chick

Who can’t risk being sick

Can afford to be

Decapitated.

digital painting from photosCampfire Song for the Unwitting Centerpiece

Singing silly campfire songs, we sit at either side

Across the pit and toast marshmallows, making note how wide

And high the flames can leap at will, and thinking if they might

Be quite sufficiently stoked up by middle of the night

To throw something substantial in to roast before the dawn,

Perhaps a certain someone here we’ve finally settled on,

Whose camp-songs so annoy us; cook to ash before next day

Our deep-disliked camp counselor: our own auto-da-fé.

mixed media sculpture

Why, certainly, cabin-master, Sir, have another toasted marshmallow! Here, just lean over a teensy little bit closer . . .

The Stench of Doom

Breathe on Me, Breathalyzer

What is that sulfurous smell?

Is it the mouth of Hell?

Or is it only Morning Breath?

With you, I cannot tell.

oil pastel on paper

Through mystic haze and mystery,

Through funky dark and gloom,

Throughout the house and yard and park

And to the edge of doom,

It penetrates both brain and soul

And harries unto death—

Begone! foul demon, Hell-bound hound,

And take your stinking breath.

oil pastel on paperTake Thou Thy Hindmost Hence-ward

If thou must wind down, go downwind, please;

I’ll remain up here while thou tak’st thy ease,

for I’ve found if a lady’s downwind of thee, she’s

immediately an endangered species.

Nervous Nellies and their Little Mysteries

digital drawingHyde and Seek

In my youth my friends and I,

When we were of a mind,

Played little games, amused ourselves,

Were seekers of a kind,

But then grew old and cynical,

Unable to unwind

The fright of not just how or when,

But whom, we feared to find.digital drawing

Things of which one ought to be scairt

The fretful Porpentine, I hear,

Grows scarier from year to year,

No less than Jabberwocks and ghouls

That frighten us and make us fools,

And like Godzilla and his ilk,

Make desperate for hugs, warm milk

And night-lights, all us children who

Are scaredy-cats, like me. And you?

Companionship or Conspiracy

 

P&I + textP&I + textP&I + text

Rodents on the Run

graphite drawing + textgraphite drawing