Thursday, December 27, 2012

Seasonal scribblins

Twas all about the tags this year, with linocut ones for presents, and other hand drawn ones to adorn muesli mah boy made to give to our respective relatives (incorrectly spelt, as I realised not soon after handing them out. I am a moron).

Friday, December 14, 2012


Down into the infinite loop of sore eyes and swearing at photoshop you go, little fella.

On another note, I got into the roof of the auditorium of my alma mater the other day. I'd been up there before, but never quite so high. 

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Rumble in the jumble

Couple o' things from recently. 

Slowly emerging from a dry/not-so-fantastic spell. 

Hopefully the rolling of the ball, now initiated, continues for a reasonable amount of time. 

Decorated a Christmas stick. 

Drew this guy I found at a market shooting puppies at orphans. Badly (the drawing I mean - his aim is clearly fantastic). 

Made these earrings and photographed them on a 1947 guide to "sexual hygiene for mothers and daughters". It's a good book. I learnt a lot about the sexual duties of a wife, and the benefits of eugenic sterilisation.

Go, ball, go!

Thursday, November 29, 2012


If the testtube rack looks wonky it's because I made it. God it was good to drill and sand and swear at timber again.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Fiddler on the roof

All I seem to do these days is "fiddle" and "doodle" and other verbs that allude as much to inconsequential activity as they might to something dirty. But as long as I don't think about it too long it's okay.

So anyhow, here are some doodles arising from fiddling with watercolour and a new 0.05mm felt tip.

Mmm. Felt tip.

If you know what I mean.

(Also here's some shots of the party, including the sole one I got of my pasteups. T'was a fun night, an amazing venue, but also an obligatorialy painful few days after.)

I'm too old for this shit.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

In cinemas this summer...

I had a bad day at work and had to relieve some tension. (Significant levels of crazy have become apparent in my cafe job's management.)

I'd go on, but there's already enough vitriol on the internet. And I can't go to sleep if I'm angry.


Saturday, November 17, 2012

Copy down

Paste up.

(For a party in a disused WWII bunker tonight. I'm excited!)

Thursday, November 15, 2012


A poster that evokes kind of mixed feelings. Illustrator is a beast I am yet to properly tame. Along with, you know, composition and colour and stuff.


Saturday, November 10, 2012

Long time no see

What a strangely truncated phrase. I wonder how it originated?

Anyway, le fuckwit and I are slowly, slowly settling into our new place.
(I actually drew this over a week ago. Fuck you, lack of internet and scanner at home!)
We got some cookware, crockery, cutlery and, most importantly, groceries a couple of days ago, so I was able to make our inaugural home cooked dinner (the tinned tuna sandwiches we'd been living off up until then don't count) - huevo rancheros and barley cornbread.
Southern style with a side salad. Nomnomnom.
Setting up a home (mostly) from scratch is a lot harder than I thought it'd be. I feel a lot more invested in this place than I have elsewhere. I don't just want a couch, but I want one that looks decent. And maybe bowls that match. Things like that. It's... very odd. I am feeling a frustration at my house not looking the way I'd like it to that I would have scoffed at in the past. What have I become?


Anyway, here's a photo of a selection of toy handguns we now have adorning our kitchen wall. Just 'cause they look cool. My favourite's the second from the right, a wooden rubber band gun. While it has neither accuracy or power on its side, it's pretty boss to look at and would probably still get you arrested should you take it out at an airport. 
Also here's a drawing of some gawky teenager I saw who I'm a bit in love with. His locks were incredible. 

I'm still not creating as much as I'd like, and it's kind of frustrating. Working 6 days a week is beginning to take its toll. I need to work something out. Maybe a timetable, or some self motivation technique, or a cheap speed dealer or-zzzzzzzzzz

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Sunday, October 28, 2012


I'm sorry I've been so neglectful recently, blog. There's been too much working and too much house hunting-related stuff for me to be as attentive as I should.

But now I'm back, with some good news. My fuckwit and I have found an apartment! It's actually a nice one, too. It's big and light, and the stove even works! Soon we'll be all set up, and I can stop working six days a week and get back to actually making things.

Though, to be honest with you, this lack-of-making hasn't really been that bad so far. I've been so tired that my main concerns have revolved around sleeping, eating and making the house presentable enough to find new replacements for us here over the past few weeks. I know that once I'm well rested enough to think properly again there will probably be some sort of disastrous artistic crisis, full of regret and navel gazing at my inactivity, but at least when it does all happen you'll be here for me, dear blog, to absorb all my whining, my self flagellation and my existential questioning.

You're a lucky blog, aren't you?

Good blog.

Have a biscuit.

Also, behold, the only thing I've finished in the last couple of weeks.
It's a picture of my mate.
Because he's a sound technician.
And I care about him and shit.
(And he sent me a picture of a dragon fucking a car.)

This is just embarrassing.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Doodle your noodle

Or this guy's noodle at least.

This guy doesn't have a noodle at all. 

And this guy did have a noodle, but I'm not sure what was going on inside it when he started talking to me at the bus stop. 

In other news, it was over 30 degrees today - our first proper taste of summer, god help us all. I spent it at work being kept good and cozy by a dishwasher and a coffee machine, going between the angry Greek mother of the main barista who was telling me to "listen to no-one but the shop", her 80 year old husband, the sole cook, who was telling me to not listen to his wife and buy him some chips with money from the till, and the deadpan Canadian barista, who was telling me just to smile and nod in response to both of them.

The place is a madhouse. A different and preferable  kind of madhouse to my office job, but a madhouse nonetheless.

Hopefully when my fuckwit and I find a place of our own all this painful madhouse double teaming will be worth it. Nap time.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Untitled prologue

Running distraction from anaglyphic animation for a moment, the fine, furry fellows from here make a return (or one of them does at least) in this, the first page of a comic I plan to build on. Eventually.

I say this every time, but goddamn do I hate digital colouring.

Saturday, October 6, 2012

One step forward, two steps back

I feel like I've used this title before. Oh well.

Life has been a tad exhausting lately, with artmaking mostly being relegated to before and after work. As such any progress is slow, and slow progress is generally not good for the morale.

However, if one good thing has come from all this (besides having a lil' more scrilla and being employed in a place that I don't actually hate), it's that I've, in a roundabout way, been coerced into being more focused. Considering my average focusing abilities that isn't really saying that much, but I am now trying to make the most of whatever free time I have (present blogging excepted). Which means working on the stuff I give the most shits about.

Which, in a rather convoluted and verbose way, leads to the following - the trial and terror of anaglyphic experimentation I've decided to subject myself to. 

Y'see my specialpersonthatIlivewith runs this little cinema, and mistakenly ordered a shitload of those red and blue 3D glasses for some films he wants to screen later in the year.
So I thought, "hey, cool, maybe I could do some 3D shorts to show before the feature. It'll help me get some practice with animation. Plus it's bit gimmicky. I fucking love gimmicks. It should be quick and easy, over in no time. Right?"


First experimentation with anaglyphic shiz:

Hey, it works. Awesome! I have so many ideas now. 
And so...

Round 2 didn't work so well, and I have no idea why. Let's cover it up with something that moves.
 Then made this thing to shoot, set it up all nicely.
Making measurements, trying to be a little bit exact. I want this to go well!
But then...
Why isn't this lining up properly? 
How do I background? So many of my ideas hinged on separate backgrounds being used... oh god my brain.
It was then I realised that I hadn't been lining up the two cameras I was using to shoot simultaneously properly. And that each camera was so bulky I wouldn't be able to do that without building a rig of some kind. And that anaglyphic images are a lot less forgiving to work with than I was expecting. And that photoshop is a horrible, horrible bastard.

So I took a break and fiddled with a skull for a bit.

The shooting angles are still all fucked, but learning curves. And things.

This is not how I was envisioning spending my day off, swearing at a computer and drinking copious amounts of tea.

Oh, who am I kidding?

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Just call me Oscar Twojobs

... that sounds a lot more euphemistic than I was intending.

Anyway, I've just acquired myself a second job. In a scramble to cover potential moving costs, I am now more employed than I ever thought I would be. Ever. Because I'm a lazy butt.

I am also unprecedentedly time poor.

On the upside, my new place of employ is really close to my studio, and my shifts generally end in the early afternoon, which gives me time to go there and work.

On the downside the start of said shifts require me to leave the house at 6:00am, making some of what should be studio work time nap time, and what should be a painfree back a world of ouch, owing to the makeshift cushion bed I'm using for studio naps.

Another downside is that this new job is behind the counter of a cafe, and I'm shit with people. Good thing the owner is wonderful and forgiving when I stuff up orders. For now at least.

Early days.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Splitting skulls

Taking names

 There is a lot of my face on this blog right now.
Sorry about that.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

'Well at least she's doing something with her life'

Thanks, bro.

I keep forgetting, that even amongst my circle of friends, the things I do and enjoy doing don't necessarily seem meritorious. I guess because a lot of the time my fiddlings don't result in some widely advertised public showing, or perhaps they don't even realise I'm doing things because the majority of the time what people are hearing from me are complaints about my shitty job on facebook.

I'll admit, I don't have the output of a lot of others, that I'm lacking in focus and direction and have so many loose ends to my 'practice' that some sort of hilarious anal sex analogy* should be made here, but I still find it infuriating when people I value the opinion of either aren't paying any attention or, even worse, are and just don't give a shit about (/just don't value in the same way, hopefully) what I'm choosing to devote my time to.

Back in those years of teenage ouchiness my friend, in the midst of a pseudo-suicidal fit of existential insecurity, once asked me "what compels a person to stay alive?" It was the wee hours of the morning, and my sluggish brain, at that time confounded, could come to no other conclusion but "biology" - the human body as a machine that compels us to function, that should then be taken as evidence for our need to "live" in a more philosophical sense. It was a lazy answer, which I realised at the time, and so did my friend as she quickly brushed my answer off to return to her ontological questioning on MSN Spaces.
Months later that question came to mind again, and with it many similar evenings of overthought teenage angst. Memories of infuriation, of clashing opinions, of wounded pride. Then I realised, perhaps for me at least, the compulsion to stay alive might come from a need for acceptance, the quest for validation of those things that you hold to be true, of finding some place, some mindset, where you feel at ease with yourself and are valued in a similar way by others^.
Albert Camus, in his writings on suicide (I think, I'm fairly rusty) said that it was an individual's feelings of being divorced from their environment that would drive them to take their own life. This makes sense to me - a person needs some framework within which to arrange their concept of self, and existing in a world makes it an inevitable part of this framework. You need to feel that you 'fit' somewhere in your world, that you have a place that you can function, or else what are you but an entity without context?
As I sit here as an 'artist', or whatever the fuck it is I am, it seems for a lot of other people meaning-giving frameworks are easier to find. Naturally, everyone is prone to existential exasperation, painful paradigm shifts and all those other things, but sometimes I find myself fantasising about what it would be like if I'd taken a more pragmatic route - one clearly marked and with handrails. If I'd been able to find an enthusiasm for, perhaps, business studies (if not out of interest then out of a need to buy a house as part of a fixed 10 year plan or something similar), I could have studied for that exact HSC mark that would get me into that exact course, gone to some networking meetings, applied for internships advertised to my faculty at the same time as the rest of my cohort, and spent the rest of my days working my way up through that company, or perhaps rotating around a few different companies using the same managerial skills at each. I say again, there is plenty of room for existential disasters in this area, but at least if you step from outside your own insecurity there's a hierarchical external structure, as defined by your organisation, that can be moved within.
Where is that when you just want to make shit, constantly being torn between being different enough to seem original, or consumable enough to be shown? Art practice is so dependent on self motivation. Creative people are constantly being told to stick to their guns, do their own thing and so set themselves apart, but which way is the best way when you are, to be original, cutting yourself adrift? Will there just come a point where you originality attains a level of 'good' that is enough to be recognised? Where is the commanding meta narrative for the artist`?
So, this brings me back to Camus again. In 'The Myth of Sisyphus', he tells the tale of Sisyphus from Greek mythology, a king, as divine punishment, forced to roll a boulder up a hill, only to have it roll back down to the bottom again, for the rest of eternity. He uses this as a metaphor for the Absurd universe the individual finds themselves in, one without that grand scheme, without that meta narrative I mentioned before. However, to him this is a positive thing, for within this meaninglessness the individual is then made master of his own fate. With no great scheme to conform to, you can find your own path.
I try to remember this, but as with everything it's harder in practice than it is in theory. Especially when you are bendy and indecisive. But I try to remember this.

(AAah! this was badly structured and poorly written. If you bothered to read it, I doubt that it made much sense. But I ain't no essay writer anymore so it doesn't have to. Though I do apologise for wasting your time. And mine. I just got out of the shower, wrapped myself in a blanket and started writing this thing without getting dressed. Now I'm too cold to move. But I need to meet someone to go to the zoo! So many crises!)

*'Analogy'. Hehe.
^Of course, this is not to exclude the importance of being challenged from life, for there is always room for improvement. Rather that acceptance etc. is sought regardless of whatever stage of belief you're at.
`I could get into a whole thing about what constitutes 'art' and so 'artist' here, but I'm not going to.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Glitches and twitches

Pictorial evidence of making some gifs, and trying to upload them to Tumblr. What an ordeal. In a good way. I guess.

Monday, September 17, 2012

Sunday, September 16, 2012

This seems pretty... HANDY

Not to POINT ANY FINGERS, but it seems like my GRIP on marker usage here has far from NAILED it.
Uh. Sorry about that.

Anyway, here's an A5 thingy that began as a doodle, turned into something more and then was terribly scanned for your viewing delectation.

I have to say, I'm feeling a bit lost now that the game project's on an indefinite break. There's all this stuff I was dying to do while I had deadlines for animated aliens to meet, but now that I'm at liberty to do it, I'm so apprehensive at doing something new it's difficult to get going.

What a familiar tune. Boo.

On the upside, my fuckwit and I will be moving out of our sharehouse, into a place of just our own soon! How crazy and real life sounding. I've taken up an extra day of work to help get together enough funds for bond, furniture etc., so that's a bit of a bummer (okay, a real fuckin' big bummer), but I'm mostly just really, really excited.