Here's a handful of errant panels that didn't even make it out of the pages of the sketchbook to the drawing board, much less to the official submission stage. Not so much issues with insecurity and lack of self-confidence (which may or may not be a learned behavior for many artists from de/formative dating rituals in highschool), but just prudently knowing full well in advance you'll get rejected. Join me below the fold for the risqué, ribald and rude.
This was a serendipitous convergence while indulging in some libations at the bar of America's Farthest North Southern BBQ: sitting eye-to-eye with a thoroughly (in)appropriate and lewd custom-made tap-handle for Kassik's Morning Wood IPA.
Here's to warm + fuzzy thoughts of winter and snuggling up to, ahh... nevermind.
Speaking of tacit acknowledgement that you may as well not even bother trying, I'll probably give this concept sketch a pass when it comes time for the annual Alaska Railroad poster competition. After I'm done traumatizing Thomas the Tank Engine fans, I'll need to add-on the regional variation of a "moose catcher."
Idle inspiration for this came from watching someone attempt to play with Eskimo yo-yos. Incidentally another example of when a cartoonist spontaneously busts out laughing it might not be a good idea to ask them "what's so funny?"
As an art teacher, nothing beats the soothing cadence of a roomful of drawing students all diligently engrossed in learning how to successfully give forms the illusion of depth and volume through the meticulous rendering of gradations in value via hours and hours of stippling. Absolutely inspiring.
Doodled this out sitting in a waiting room, while, well, waiting. Eventually noticed a really young kid was intently watching me sketch from a couple seats over. Went to finish waiting (and the drawing) out in the car.
Also recently scanned a few nostalgia doodles from an older sketchbook dating from the DownEast residency - this one in particular caught my eye. Sure have been missing that place: I think an olfactory trigger happens when the humidity + warmth is just right and the sap starts to flow with breakup in our neck of the woods, which in turn triggers all sorts of associations with memories of the place. Sure hope to migrate back sooner than later - especially now that I actually have a book's worth of material to peddle perhaps at another MeCAF gig.
Lastly, I seriously think I may have found the name of my next business venture: Tappen Studios®™