It seems like everybody is getting sick lately. Despite my efforts to avoid it, Mr. Boy managed to give me his head cold, icky crud. It’s that lame kind of in-between sick where you feel like crap, but not bad enough to stop you from feeling guilty about taking a day off. I feel like I should be working, but my brain feels all blurry and my face is full of mucus. I finally decided I probably shouldn’t work, because I don’t really want to make germ filled plushies. I just imagined my innocent little creatures going out into the world like so many tiny small pox blankets.

My guilt being assuaged, I decided to fill the gaps between napping sessions by continuing to fill my moleskine sketchbook. Since my attention span is a bit short right now, I’m filling a page with tiny little 2.25″ square drawings. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it yet, but I am still quite in love with my new markers. It doesn’t take much encouragement for me to break them out and doodle. Even if I don’t feel like doing anything else.

Anyways, Mr. Boy said something about a “chibi Hellboy” and somehow I ended up with Hellboy chumming it up with an octopus. I’ll pretend it’s because I’m sick. Then I tried a self-portrait. I didn’t mean for it to look like I was disgusted at the mushy cephalopod friendship above. It turns out it’s somewhat difficult to draw yourself disapproving of your own hair cut. (I got pissed off at my bangs the other day and because I’m a cheapskate, I trimmed them myself. I have sort of “seventies, Farrah Fawcett” bangs as my friends kindly informed me. I suppose it could have turned out worse. I could have ended up with a Flock of Seagulls do.)

Now I have four more little squares to fill up. Instead of coming up with the rest of them on my own, I’m offering up some little mini commissions.  Judging by the duration of Mr. Boy’s illness, I’m going to be at this for a couple of more days at least.  So for the low, low price of only $5 you can tell me what to draw in my little book for the rest of the week. If you are interested you know where to find me.

I think it’s about time I go back to sleep on the cat. And I swear the next post won’t have anything to do with markers. For reals.

Farmer Green had enough of Bert’s attitude. There was something unsettling about that chicken. It was always strutting around like it owned the place, putting on airs and looking down on everyone. It never associated with any of the other chickens. It turned it’s beak up at worms and never once had he seen it fly. It just wasn’t right a chicken acting that superior. He was in charge of his farm and no chicken of his was going to get away with that sort of nonsense. Bert was going to learn to fly or die trying.

Bert (who was actually Betty–Farmer Green wasn’t really a very smart farmer) actually did think she owned the place. From the moment she hatched, she had been secretly coddled by the farmer’s daughter. She was hand fed, petted and groomed daily, and carried around like a princess in a basket. It was perfectly obvious to Betty that she was a superior creature. All that scratching around in the dirt was beneath her. That flying business was just undignified. As if she should propel herself somewhere! So it happened that Betty was most unpleasantly surprised the day she found herself tossed out of the hayloft into the empty air. With sudden clarity, and much flapping about, she realized she was in fact, just a chicken.

I am still quite in love with my new markers. So in love with them that I’ve actually been drawing on a regular basis. I even attempted to participate in Illustration Friday, which I’ve been following for years, hence the chicken themed picture.  Of course to actually participate I should have submitted it yesterday, but I was terribly busy drinking beer and meeting lots of cool new people. Click here to read more »

Courageous Tillie and his faithful steed George set off to seek adventure. Who knew what exciting foreign lands and heroic deeds lay before them? They would cross the treacherous River of Eels, slay the terrible monster of Gila, and they would rescue fair Hilda. Songs would be written about them, they would be showered with untold riches, and they would get to have tea with the Queen. All the neighbors would be envious. And as long as they were back by dinner, Tillie’s mom promised they could both have cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles for dessert.

Do you remember being a kid and you just got a brand new set of markers (or colored pencils, or crayons) and you were consumed by a need to use all of them, at once, on one glorious picture?  Click here to read more »

At last!  The exciting conclusion to my heartwarming tale of road-trippery and family.  I totally lied about how long it would take to post this, but by now you should know better than to trust my time estimates anyways.  To be fair, I didn’t expect it to take quite this long.  I had this idea that I could somehow finish and post it over the holidays as some sort of holiday gift to the masses…while also road-tripping across the country, battling the elements, visiting family, and boogeying down with my friends New Year’s Eve.

So picking up where I left off:

Click here to read more »

Haha!  You thought you were going to get the next installment of my enthralling road trip, but instead I pull the old switcheroo.  Man I love that trick.  Instead,  I’m going to write about something very important to me: the creation and consumption of tasty things to eat.

I really enjoy cooking and I really enjoy eating.  Every now and then I have these yearnings to pretend I am some sort of cultured, sophisticated adult.  The kind of adult who throws lavish dinner parties, and wears swanky dresses.  So I clean up my cramped, awkward little apartment, buy a bunch of nice booze, and make a lot of fancy food.  Then I tell my friends they better come over and pretend we are classy people.  The illusion doesn’t work unless you have more than two people.  Click here to read more »