Another One Bites the Dust

Happy New Year!


(Oh and here's the original sketch for this year's Xmas moose design too:)

"Peaceable Kingdom" - Alaska version

"People, I just want to say, you know, can we all get along?" - Rodney King

Still being inspired by some of the works in that book of American Folklore, this one caps off the series of doodles: Edward Hicks' iconic painting "Peaceable Kingdom." Lots has been written (here's a good Quaker perspective) about the sixty-odd variations he did on this theologically larded theme, a pastoral portrayal of spiritual symbolism. It took a while to select correlating species common to the Arctic, and in turn "customizing" the imagery recast into a regional remix. I spent a couple sessions of sketching in general areas to block in basic shapes and then swapping around the species until finding the right combination of critters that still stayed somewhat true to Hicks' original composition. The cruise-ship is in reference to a different version than the variation posted where white settlers are signing a treaty with Native Americans; that's updated that to Native Alaskans being photographed by a tourist (incidentally the only add-on is the suitcase). Fireweed, an alder thicket, spruce and birch trees have been substituted for the flora, and for fauna the three bears (polar, black & grizzly), moose, walrus, salmon, hare, beaver, sled dog, wolf, musk ox, raven, bald eagle, Dall sheep and caribou - sixteen species including humans.


I confess a holistic, harmonious vision is not completely at the heart of this version, as it's poking fun at the piece and offering an ironic interpretation/commentary on the reality of a contemporary, analogous situation. The most obvious deviation from Hicks' "peace" would be the mauling of the bawling child (and the omission of the other children), and shoring up the Western view of a clear division between intrusive, disruptive Man and Nature. Plus I suppose a personal motivating force behind doing this stems from the delicate psychological balance struck trying to coexist in a one-room cabin over another long, dark and cold Alaska winter with a whole host of critters.


It felt good being able to return to a temporarily shelved concept over a month later, the back-burner projects tend to weigh heavy when unmet goals accumulate. This panel was pecked at around the edges intermittently over the past week until I cleared the deck enough to spend a couple all-day sessions on it and finish it up.
Speaking of, one of the films that I really like to listen to in the background while I'm working, and one that is tangentially related to the subject matter of this particular panel, is Terrence Malick's "The New World," one of my personal top five (excellent review of his work here). Along with "The Thin Red Line," his films envelope you in an all-encompassing environmental experience by combining intimate natural sounds with a deeply reflective and connective score.

After some digital prints for tabloid posters and recycling as a Nuggets panel, I'm going to experiment with this piece; it'll be the first thing I've ever done to get printed on canvas, as I believe nothing else will suffice to truly reflect the works inherent cheesiness. Some clear varnish should bring out a nice ambient glow along with adding a little luster and faux brush-strokes. What I have in mind is along the lines of Thomas Kinkade's "brushworks" (each poster will come with an Official Certificate of Authenticity):

"Some of the prints also feature light effects that are painted onto the print surface by hand by "skilled craftsmen," touches that add to the illusion of light and the resemblance to an original work of art, and which are then sold at higher prices."

Soon as I get the details down and move into production I'll start peddling the wares by offering a limited-edition print through the website - keep ya posted.

“Love... shall we deny it when it visits us... shall we not take what we are given.” - Captain John Smith

"Yule Fuel"

Merry Xmoose!

This one took a whole freakin' day earlier in the week, two days really - the penciling and inking one afternoon, and hours of tweaking and coloring the next. Not a bad way to spend time instead of housework.

As usual I started out with the highest intentions of drawing everything "as-is" in one image, but as you can see from the initial scan here, some mysterious smearing issues developed which necessitated the overlay of the looping strands of xmas lights on a separate sheet (that and the roll of toilet paper needed to move elsewhere in the remixed composition). This in theory should work well enough, except that the two scans never seem to line up and it takes endless modification to line everything back up the way it's supposed to look. Not to mention positioning all one-hundred-fifty-eight bulbs after that, and then the snowflakes, the stars, etc.

I was inspired in part by learning about the history of "A Christmas Carol" and Dicken's sneaky secular reboot of the holiday - a lot can be said for needing a similar resurrection of spirit these days. Artistic license was taken with Ebenezer's outhouse trip, though the Ghost of Christmas Present does in fact visit a miners cabin.

No telling if the paper(s) will have an option to run the panel in color or not, unfortunately my timing was off (again) and this'll run December 27th, plus in the annual "best photos of the year" issue where real-estate on the color pages is at a premium, but it was designed to work okay in grayscale anyways. Cranked this out on top of the new batch of Nuggets for January, and now that the academic deck is swabbed clear I can get back into the bigger projects lined up over "break." After passing out the 50+ cards made from a reduced-size PDF of this panel! Ho ho ho...

And as I alluded to in the previous post, there was an archaeological expedition into storage to confirm my suspicions that this concept had indeed already been done before, just not this good. Eh.

Happy Holidays everyone...
celebrate safely, be warm & well!

Old X-mas cards

As a prequil of sorts to tomorrow's post, I went pawing through the compost heap of my archives in search of a suspicion: this year's color card design for the holidays seemed to remind me slightly of something I had already drawn. Dug up these doodles - no idea where the originals are, or if they even exist anymore - given that they would have been done first in Flair pens on regular copy-paper, and shaded with Zip-A-Tone, the shelf-life has long since passed its expiration date and like a lot of the old art, has auto-destructed. The designs would have then been photocopied and colored in with Pantone markers, then secondary copies made for mailing out to friends & family.


The top one is from 1990, the beaver from 1994, and mushing Santa somewhere in-between.



These black & white panels were inserts that went inside the cards:


Nostalgia aside, the concept of Santa passing through the aurora borealis is still an entertaining occupational hazard, and probably worth expanding upon. In the meantime, some folks on certain lists (the naughty one) got the bonus unedited/unrated panels...

"A perpetual holiday is a good working definition of hell." - George Bernard Shaw

"A Safe & Happy Holidays"

This was actually one of the coolest little projects I remember doing: back in 1997 I had the gumption to ask the other three reigning Alaskan cartoon talents to collaborate on an editorial panel to run in the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner.
Pictured from top left to right are Peter Dunlap-Shohl of "Muskeg Heights," Robin Heller of "Mukluk," yer truly, and Chad Carpenter of "Tundra" fame.
The image was done old-school: cut & paste + photocopier, collaged together each artists' piece to make a new master; "manual Photoshop."

Worst One of the Year (part II)

Yeah, I know the title was previously claimed, but things are goin' downhill fast - hopefully pull out of the nose-dive in time for a fresh start on 2010: make this New Year's resolution to only do really funny cartoons...


I actually got this one while "researching" ideas down at the Borough Library: while camping out for half the day culling material from random magazines and books, I chatted with a couple friends, one whom was training the other in how to use one of those spiffy new iPods. My partner had picked one up just last week (an iPhone actually, whatever, iDon't Know), and now it seems everywhere I look someone's playing around with one (even while driving - yikes!). The original doodle had an additional balloon which I edited out at the last minute in the print version: emphasizing wasn't necessary (only thing worse than belaboring the obvious is flogging the obscure), especially when about 80% of the poor folks I've tested it out on didn't get it until after saying the caption aloud...

"Be obscure clearly." - E. B. White

An Opening (and Closing)

"I'm tired, but proud." - Norman Rockwell

*note: all photos are from the 2009 Fall semester student art show @ the UAF Art Department.

Almost a year ago now I embarked on this experiment of documenting my personal experiences teaching a Beginning Drawing class. Starting with the Spring semester of 2009, then carried over across the insanity and intensity of teaching Summer Sessions, and then finally this past Fall semester, the goal was to put everything out there (here), warts & all.

The perspective from the other side of the drawing pad has been and will continue to be a self-reflecting process: actually putting things into writing and providing a running commentary to many projects turned into something akin to a Director's Cut DVD on making & teaching art. There's no end to resources, ideas and inspiration from peers, books and websites on both doing and teaching art out there; Ink & Snow's just one more voice in the wilderness (literally).

Putting everything together in one place can still be the antithesis of my artistic process, and about as fun as herding cats: my thoughts don't tend to coalesce anywhere near as easily as they do when focused on a drawing. Still, I've been rewarded with insights that I hadn't experienced yet in the traditional method of creating, along with a weird objective disassociation when monitoring one's own actions, constant questioning of motives and rating of relative effectiveness. "The unexamined life is not worth living" - Socrates would most definitely have been a blogger (not to mention a major Facebook presence), but probably sucked as an artist, seeing as how so much of this way of life defies logic. An awful lot of this introspection yields nothing more than toeing up to a line and just acknowledging that it's there, as in, I sometimes have no clue why, or how, I have no answer, and that's okay. One part habit, one part constant search for clues.


Humbling and frustrating to look back in retrospect and see how much I really don't know, how much more there always is to learn, and to teach - myself and from others. Disappointments and mistakes happen as much in the classroom as on any piece of paper on my drawing board. But I still think there's an awful lot to be said for dissatisfaction being a primary motivation in art: nothing ever really seems to manifest itself the way I originally envision it, and if it ever starts to, well, then there's no real reason to keep doing it once it's been done.

The public display of one's shortcomings and strengths in a blog isn't really any damn bit different than showing your artwork in any public venue. Criticism and rejection go hand in hand with any accolades; learning both to overcome fears and reign in the ego is a characteristic of many artists I admire, as is the instinct to share knowledge, information and, oh yeah, your own damn opinion. I think it's also somewhat second nature for both visual artists and members of the media to explore different venues such as blogging, and cartoonists are the last people overly concerned with coming across as idiots, so there ain't no shame in letting it all hang out.



So after reformatting, editing and uploading well over 500 images (68 MB is only 6% of my allotted space here on Blogspot - so there's still plenty of room for more) and who knows how many thousands of rambling words, it's time to scale back a bit. And yeah, back in May I said I'd stop blogging about teaching drawing; but this time I mean it...
Re-channeling the time, energy and attention into new directions and applying the insights earned after this little side-venture onto upcoming projects will eventually bear some strange fruit: can't really dodge the discipline needed for some bigger projects now that I've established a pattern of regular output.

Since the inexorable expansion of topics on Ink & Snow parallels the creative mission creep I experience in my own artwork, the plan now is to maintain a shift over into more or less all things cartoon related, excepting the intermittent community art-related event, featured artist profile and the occasional review and exhibition critique. I also hope to expand a little and incorporate some guest posters in the future, maybe even monetize the site so as to help out with expenses. Posts will probably get even more narcissistic and pathological, and the content simultaneously stupider and more provocative. Much like my cartoons there's usually something for everybody, amuse, educate, irritate and inform.

So here's to hoping some of you will still visit, and many thanks for your patience and curiosity. Comments and suggestions are welcome and encouraged from the lurker contingent, I'll appreciate any feedback. CHEERS!

[Handing out awards, from the left: Da-ka-xeen Mehner (Native Arts), Todd Sherman (Printmaking + Department Chair),
Mike Nakoneczny (painting), College of Liberal Arts Interim Dean Eric Heyne]

"It is important to know: 1) You are OK just the way you are. You need a strong stomach, a tough hide, and to be able to take rejection well. 2) Do your homework. Check out galleries. Don't just walk in with your work. Be as professional as you can. 3) ... there is a gallery for everybody." - Kay WalkingStick

Postscript & Prequil: Focus, Focus, Focus

"I start a picture and I finish it." - Jean-Michel Basquiat

The previous evening I had attended the annual holiday bash for the Fairbanks Watercolor Society. This is one of the few hyperactive groups in the community with proactive members who routinely organize workshops and their own exhibitions. Interesting in the context of the recent gallery closures, and points up again the crucial skills of collective efforts in self-promotion, especially when seen against the failing business model for artists (literally now also for the owners) to rely upon galleries to do all the work: as per the recording industry's collapse after missing the boat with the digital revolution, visual artists need to embrace alternative methods in getting their work out there and earning a living.
I opened up this vein of fatalistic thinking ("why" "what's it good for" etc.) right before the drawing class' final critique, and while en route to campus had an epiphany over a small item posted on the bulletin board at the cafe. It fits in well between yesterday's mullings and the next, final post on teaching, where I unsuccessfully attempt to tie everything up in a Grand Unifying Theory, but basically what it'll all come down to is this...

... at the very least you'll be able to draw a much better flier to sell your used car:

"I like boring things." - Andy Warhol

Final Crit: Fall 2009

"What is worse than being a suffering artist? Being a successful one. Either way there is judgment." - Catherine Cote

Okay then; the final happened (moved by consensus from the officially scheduled one that was supposed to take place Saturday morning at 8am) (yeah right) and we reverted back to the traditional way of critiquing: all the works up on the wall; each student weighing forth on another person's piece, then the creator chiming in + any additional comments from the rest of the class; then whoever was just critiqued would in turn discuss the next drawing, and so on.
That process took over an hour, and it was on to grading the heap of portfolios, which took an additional few hours. Along with factoring in the grade for the final, it's a time to check over and note any reworks, refresh my memory, document with photographs and get an overall impression of individual progress. I keep a copy of the portfolio checklist with all the assignments, critique pieces and in-class exercises to break down and tally up scores and make additional comments, which is placed into each student's portfolio.

Guy at Nightclub: You look like a clown in that stupid jacket.
Sailor: This is a snakeskin jacket! And for me it's a symbol of my individuality, and my belief... in personal freedom.
Guy at Nightclub: Asshole.
- Wild at Heart (David Lynch, 1990)

Prior to the critique I pulled a fast one by first by handing out blank index cards and having everyone jot down (anonymously) their own personal definitions of art, which I read one of aloud after each piece was discussed. At the very least it's cold-cocking everyone just to see what their revised and expanded criteria is for their own works and those by others. I throw an awful lot of information and concepts at them over the course of a semester, and it's interesting to see what sticks:

• "Art is a form of expression & individuality."
• "Art is a piece that an individual has created to be viewed by others."
• "Art is visually stimulating."
• "Art is good for relieving my stress, to escape bills, kids, husbands, jobs, for fun. It is relaxing and I enjoy it."
• "(It's) the best way to express yourself. You can let the creativity come out of you."
• "Art is an expression of feelings from the drawer's perspective, what he or she wants to express and show."
• "Art is definitely a way to express yourself, an exercise for your mind, medicine, a release. It's utilizing techniques, composition. Art is my perception."
• "Art is for the artist - if others like it, that's fine, if others find meaning that's fine. But most importantly it has to be for the artist, even if they just had fun making it."
• Art is a form of expression, a picture of what you want everyone to know about yourself, a love and a passion."
• "Art is a universal tool of understanding between people. For me it's the best form of expression not necessarily meant to tell a story but have some sort of meaning."
• "Art is the ribbon of society tying together the loose ends and finally granting an aesthetic value to anything, perhaps everything."
• "Art is a great time spent on sleepy Saturdays and draining Wednesdays."
• "Art is what we can find anywhere, we can do it anytime and anywhere. What I enjoy through my life."
• "Art to me makes emotions, feelings & ideas tangible to others and myself."
• "Art - visual representation of an individuals interpretation of the world around them."

From the idealistic and grandiose to practical and functional, the self to society at large, naive, predictable, safe, entertaining or provocative: the answers are no different than art itself, and there are no real wrong answers, just weaker or stronger.
In retrospect an amusing observation was the total absence of any commercialization or career-oriented perspectives in this batch: perversely refreshing to know my own personal biases haven't taken root. Or on the other hand that might be depressing...
Regardless of instilling any sense of professionalism, the range (sometimes polar opposites) of working definitions illustrates the diversity of drawing; not just academically, stylistically, aesthetically or craft-wise - but what they found works for them.

"It's good to have a title that's not just one word. If you're gonna title it, you might as well try and say something." - Damien Hirst

Also another distinction in this particular piece was the specific inclusion of a title. Comparing and contrasting the possible interpretive influence of verbage (juxtaposing image + text à la sequential art/panel captions) and how this last ditch opportunity to manipulate the viewer's reaction can be as much of a powerful tool as the image itself.
Entertaining psychological aspects of the pieces was much fun: playing out audience reaction before hearing the details and particulars about works from the artists themselves is sometimes revealing. More often than not it's as boring as the title and piece, unless you're a geek like me.

"Art criticism everywhere is now at a low ebb, intellectually corrupt, swamped in meaningless jargon, distorted by political correctitudes, anxiously addressed only to other critics and their ilk." - Brian Sewell

Ostensibly this one final piece was supposed to reflect the pinnacle of accomplishment after the whole semester. By that standard many still either didn't invest enough time or effort. Doesn't tend to frustrate me anymore by this point, as I've long since let it go and recalibrated relative expectations - but as the samuri says: "Expect Nothing ... Be Ready For Anything." There are many pleasant surprises, enough to engage almost everyone including me.
But one thing was clear: everyone in the room can draw, and draw better than before. That's the simplest lesson to take away - the ends did justify the means.


The distinguishing characteristics of a successful art student are identical in every way to that of an athlete, musician, cook, mechanic, accountant etc. in that discipline and perseverance are in fact the best tools. The final three images on this post were all from one of the couple "A+" students in the class: "A+" not necessarily just because of innate ability, but pure fortitude and sheer determination count a lot. Case in point - the charcoal piece above was what she put up on the review wall for the final critique. Outstanding in execution and use of medium (my comparatively crappy snapshot certainly doesn't do it justice here) the concept of doing a self-portrait reflected in the eye of a dog is a challenge to see through to successful completion, and she managed to pull it off. Thank god she didn't try it with a cat.


But what she didn't display were the two other additional pieces hidden in her portfolio; the graphite version above, and lastly the splendid 19x24" charcoal portrait posted below. Now that's the sort of above-and-beyond effort that will definitely earn you major points in my estimation. And probably a nice, humble gesture to not make the rest of the class weep and totally give up on the last day. There's something to be said about letting your work speak for itself (as opposed to certain loudmouthed cartoonist blogs): much of the drawings at this point are more than capable of standing - or falling - on their own. Don't need me or anyone else's opinion, informed or not, to justify their work.

"Without underestimating the value of talent, it's not the most important attribute you need to become a successful artist. It's not even second. More important than talent is desire." - Harley Brown

*snap* PLOOBADOOF!

In 2007 Running Press published the be-all/end-all compilation of Don Martin's works done for MAD Magazine: "The Completely MAD Don Martin." Seeing as how the $150 price was almost as hefty as the two-volume slipcase, I put off the purchase until last week, when a friend working at the local independent bookstore brought it to my attention - a discounted set had arrived at half-off! Even though you can get a copy for substantially less elsewhere, buying local and buying NOW was irresistible. So it's been a nostalgic and inspirational waltz down memory lane (with double-jointed feet no less) ever since. >Skloosh-zwit-Sproing FWAP<

I've written here before of using Don Martin's trademark sound-effect onomatopoeia at this summer's "Big Cartoon Kablooey," but haven't gone too much into depth at the extent of his influence over my own work in both technique and style. In the personal pantheon of greats I rank him alongside Jim Henson and B. Kliban, and MAD Magazine was as pivotal to my background as were the works by classic underground comix creators. The greatest comment I ever scored from a "hero" was the letter he wrote back to me on his personal stationary about one of my books: "Very refreshing stuff. Like a great Northern goose to the spirit!" He unfortunately passed away just prior to my moving to Georgia for a couple years; I had hoped to make a pilgrimage and meet in person. He left behind more laughter than most, and this compilation is a monumental tribute. >Fwabadap!<
 

The set of books contains every single piece of art done by Don Martin for MAD, over thirty years worth of work spanning from 1956-1988, and is chronologically arranged so as to present the evolution (I wouldn't use the word "maturing") of Martin's style. The main shift begins to occur in the early 60's along with the inclusion of the insane sound effects which would become part of his primary repertoire. Heavily pantomimed and extremely exaggerated anatomy fit hand-in-glove with Martin's sight gags and slapstick punning, even if the jokes get clichéd, he either did 'em first or it did it best. In the earliest examples of his work his linework is comparatively complex and drawings much more detailed than when he really hit his stride, but the caricatures and humor are still unmistakably Martin. Full-color reproductions begin to make an appearance by the late sixties, though the majority of works were in black & white. And though much of Martin's work was both as a writer and artist, one can also see the gradual use of other writers for his material by the 1980's. As a graduate of the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, Martin's evident confidence in drawing and design shows his mastery of the medium: he is a cartoonist's cartoonist. >Yargh!<

The collection is interspersed with recollections and testimony, both personal and professional, from fellow contributors and colleagues. Former MAD editor Al Feldstein and Nick Meglin offer their perspectives on both the work of and working with Martin, and Meglin also notes the unique stylistic distinction of who would eventually become "MAD's Maddest Artist" stood in stark contrast to the material from other legendary luminaries such as Al Jaffee, Mort Drucker, Jack Davis and Sergio Aragonés. MAD was to become the absolute king of printed comedy with almost 3 million readers world-wide, and Don Martin was consistently at the top of readership popularity, and so was to become indelibly associated with the magazine as it's flagship artist. The only surviving EC Comics publication by Bill Gaines after the 1956 Comics Code, MAD circumvented the industry-wide censorship by claiming "magazine" status, thus pushing the boundaries of good taste and standards of polite humor with regular impunity and irreverence (also notable it was advertisement free).

Interestingly enough, in the collection's forward by Gary Larson, he characterizes Martin's work as having a lack of "malice," claiming the first and foremost aspect of any cartoon is to just be funny. While this is true, it shows Larson's (understandable considering the source) lack of perspective when within the first few pages of volume one there are jokes about suicide and murdering husbands, wives and family members. Martin's humor was at times about as benign as Looney Tunes and in the same class of comedy - but never attracting any serious controversy with its mostly harmless and goofy content. Larson also states in his introduction that humor is unexplainable; "no one can explain to someone else why something is funny," (which I disagree with) and goes on to describe for example New Yorker cartoons as "droll and urbane," and if you find those funny then your "inner child is dead" - which kinda negates his earlier premise by defining what isn't funny. >Glurk< >shika shika shika<

 
If there is one shortcoming to this massive compendium (and proving it's never enough) there is a maddening tease of original sketches promised on the cover - but there's only one by Don Martin himself, and a few compositional roughs by principle writer "Duck" Edwing. Given my fan-boy fetish over pencils and sketches this was a disappointment not to see more of the creative process behind these masterpieces. But hey, in the meantime this'll more than tide me over. >Plortch!<

What the collection doesn't encompass (aside from a couple cryptic hints from colleagues) is the work Don Martin did with the successful MAD clone "Cracked," which underscores the falling out he had with Bill Gaines over copyright issues. The business dispute was over Martin maintaining he was denied rightful royalties due from reprints, with Gaines insisting on flat-rate, work-for-hire. This led to Martin's jumping ship in 1987 and working for the competition for the next six years; one of the only other drawbacks to this publication is that EC Comics (which technically now DC owns, in turn a subsidiary of Warner, and then Time-Warner etc.) retains the copyrights to this body of work, and thus Martin's estate won't see any profit from this venture. Though given the deeply discounted fate of this set of books I doubt anybody saw much money in the end.

Now my head's filled with Martin's classic setup captions like "One Fine Evening," "Early One Morning," "Late One Night" and "Meanwhile At The [insert place here]." This impressively professional presentation and weighty tome of toons will occupy the central place of honor in the library for many months. >Gashlikit! Shkloort!<

That's the Hitch

Few years back I licensed one of my panels to be used as an illustration for a calendar. The folks down the road who run Parks Highway Service & Towing mail out several hundred calendars each year to their own client list, and got good response with something hand-drawn and humorous, and that caught the eye, hopefully enough to get tacked up on a garage wall or refrigerator. So they tapped me for another classic culled from an older collection, and despite the inevitable wince at having to colorize something drawn a decade ago it went okay enough in the end. I have an upcoming post about this curious phenomenon over older works; for now it's enough to note that as ridiculous as current efforts might appear - in comparison there's always steady progress, maybe even improvement. Unearthing old stuff is cringe-worthy but healthy to keep a proper perspective on work I'm doing right now.

"Recycling" work like this is probably the best way to turn a profit off an image: the initial sale to the paper and even reprinting in a collection is a little compensation, but the biggest potential is in licensing the image out for illustrative usage.
The client is charged not only for the limited rights, but it also took some time rummaging around the external drive in backup storage to unearth the original file. That in turn needed to be imported and exported with all the accompanying circus-poodle tricks (including jumping through flaming hoops). After flushing away the grayscale, resizing, proofing with a mockup, and dropping in some new verbage it was coloring fun for a coupla hours. An irony in that of all people, clients such as mechanics instinctually empathize with and understand billing for art: the functional equivalent of "shop time" + experience, regardless if something else breaks down or even doesn't get fixed right the first time.

"This car is designed by computer, built by a robot, driven by a moron." - bumpersticker

"Tailgating" & "Feral Children"

"Honk If Anything Falls Off" - bumpersticker

This panel ran in Sunday's paper here - a little outta sync with the season as there's no snow in the cartoon, but hey, who cares. Besides, the assholes are always out driving regardless of the time of year. Sometimes you just gotta vent - and yeah, I have been known to lob nuggets in the real world.

"No wonder people are so horrible when they start life as children." - Kingsley Amis

Also here's another panel that ran in the current issue of the Ester Republic - took a break from the usual topics, though poking fun at families ranks right alongside politics as a surefire way to incur the wrath of the masses. But I tell ya what: we've pretty much stopped eating out as it isn't very relaxing sitting in the romper room. Don't get me wrong, there's definitely "family friendly" establishments aplenty, but even in high-end joints there seems to be a surge of bawling infants and unrestrained children. "Children should be seen and not heard" might be a crotchety old-fashioned philosophy (or another classic; "Children should not be allowed in restaurants until they can pay for their meal"), but there might be a causal connection here with the general up tick in similar behavior in this community and society in general. Even my friends with children of their own look forward to dining out as way to get away and take a break from the kids, as intimacy and relaxation are rare enough.

It's like taking a cell-phone hiking. Guess that makes me a grizzly...

"And he turned back, and looked on them, and cursed them in the name of the LORD. And there came forth two she bears out of the wood, and tare forty and two children of them." - Kings 2:24

(Son of the Return of) Observation, Experience & Imagination

"I put in my pictures everything I like. So much the worse for the things – they have to get along with one another." - Pablo Picasso

And so we came to the last day of class (excepting this week's final critique & portfolio turn-in): worked one final session with a model, and also got in what is supposed to be my last mini-lecture that ties everything up from the whole semester's worth of artsy-fartsy.

We did the "Observation, Experience & Imagination" in-class exercise: a ten-minute sketch in pencil of a figure based on direct observation of the model; then a ten-minute sketch in pencil of an environment based on memory of any of the previous assignments (such as their Interior, Exterior, landscape gestures etc.); and then a ten-minutes incorporating some random, weird elements from their sketchbooks of reference sketches on our many field trips; and finally ten-minutes spent with charcoal tightening up and refining the composition so as to arrive at a unified image with value.

It always surprises me (and them) to see what happens with this little spontaneous "quiz." Even if it's only a 40-minute exercise and expectations aren't terribly high, it serves as a great example of the three essential elements (to varying degrees) that go into creating any work. And it's an even better demonstration of just how many different and wild ideas lay around fallow in folks heads until poked out onto paper.

"Art is the sex of the imagination." - George Jean Nathan

Figure It Out (Part II)

"Perhaps I have no talent, but all vanity aside – I do not believe that anyone makes an artistic attempt, no matter how small, without having a little – or there are many fools." - Paul Gauguin

The weekend before the class' final critique and portfolio turn-in, and I'm shoveling through the backlog of personal projects trying to clear the deck before break. That'll be the chance to take a running jump into the compost heap of back-burner ideas: I do get a bit of momentum purely off the energy generated by the art department these last couple weeks. There's so much creative juices flowing around the studios the floor is slippery. Eww.


Seriously though; that's probably the biggest fringe benefit of teaching; it's the utter ass-kick of inspiration. It's a positive feedback loop where I'll show up on the first day of class next semester burnt-out, blissed-out and rarin' to get to work on the next group: fired up from my own output the yin-yang of expectations comes into play again. "Look what I can do - you can too - here's how I did it - now you do it - hey now I wanna play" etc.



"In a post-modern world there is an increasing demand for creativity, seen as the competitive key to innovative ideas and the continuous development of the marketplace. The search is constantly scrutinizing candidates who are attentive, problem solver, and who can make decisions without hesitation." - Why Teach Art

Toiling away in relative obscurity in a tiny cabin in the woods of Alaska can give you so much insight you lose perspective on the big picture: spending time in other people's studios and in the classroom is a healthy way to stay grounded, an antidote to the ingrown artistic myopia of another long, cold and dark winter. In the classroom I get to look over what a bunch of previously unexperienced (by varying degrees) people have managed to crank out over this past fall and take part in the educational and creative osmosis. Being an adjunct is kinda like keeping a toe in the tub, but with one foot firmly planted in the surrounding community, which is a balanced perspective on the local art scene.
Concurrent with the end of the semester there's the Pottery & Print sale in their respective department studios. From the News-Miner:

"The learning curve of University of Alaska Fairbanks student potters and printmakers goes beyond their artwork.
The fledgling artists also earn a little cash and engage in an economic lesson by selling their wares at a pottery and print sale at the end of the semester. Buyers also benefit, purchasing original art at nominal prices."

Put into context of the two oldest galleries in Fairbanks closing down, there's grim irony in the lesson for "fledgling artists." Still, the teaching goes on, and the art gets made. That's the lesson.

I've tossed many quotations into the mix for all these blog posts, but if there's one that could be considered a mantra that I've adopted, it'd have be a line from one of Shel Silverstein's poems:

"Put something silly in the world
That ain't been there before."

I think that just about sums up my whole philosophy behind cartooning and drawing, even the "serious" stuff. It's what I say and demonstrate daily to my students, family and friends: even if it's been done before and maybe even done by someone better, it's still yours, a unique original. Maybe I'm easily amused, but the pure pleasure of making something up that isn't there and drawing it into existence never gets old.

"ART IS ALL OF THESE THINGS, BUT MOST OF ALL, ART IS ART: It allows a human being to take all of these dry, technical, and difficult techniques and use them to create intense beauty, and powerful emotional response. This is one thing that science cannot duplicate, mathematics cannot calculate, foreign language cannot translate, history cannot legislate, and physical education cannot replicate.

THAT IS WHY WE TEACH ART! Not because we expect you to major in Art. Not because we expect you to create art all of your life. Not so you can relax or just have a hobby." - From Why Teach Art?

Just like the extreme individuality of creating a unique piece of art there are as many differing opinions on how to go about teaching someone to make art as there are on how to make art. The results will speak for themselves come final portfolio time this week, and that will work both ways. It's already been well worth it.

"Few things in life are more satisfying--or more frustrating--than teaching. The rewards can't be measured in money (not with the kind of pay a teacher gets, anyway) but being remembered by another person as one who made a difference for the better in his or her life is a good reason for feeling proud." - Brian the Angry Art Teacher

"What's important is finding out what works for you." - Henry Moore