mind expanding nonsense

Archive for May, 2012

Going to the Doctor

I’ve been going the the doctor lately.  Not because I’m sick or anything like that.  I’ve been going to an orthopedist to get shots of hyaluronic acid  in my left knee. [ Good thing it’s not the only knee I have left].  It’s a treatment for arthritis, and is administered in a series of three, once weekly injections.  I wonder if stepping into the medical system can have an impact on ones artwork?

I’ll let you be the judge as to whether life events have long term effects on one’s psyche.  All I know is, going to the doctor is a pain in the ass (literally), and I don’t like it.


Holding onto things that bother you, or even worse, really piss you off, is a form of attachment.  And when one clings onto something and forms an attachment with it, the possibility for suffering arises.  For one is never happy or content,  That’s because with attachment, comes the desire for more and the fear of loss of what you have.  “I want that thing badly; can’t live without it.  Oh my god, what would I do without it?”

Besides only gaining suffering, one also looses something with attachment.  And that is your mind, or rather your peace of mind.  Contentment and well being flee when a bad case of attachment hits.  When I got totally pissed at someone recently, I couldn’t let anger go.  I was wronged.  I was the victim, and not the bad guy as accused.  But instead of feeling any the better for it, I felt bad; both physically and emotionally.  I was up-tight, frustrated, everything turned to shit with endless re-runs of how I was wronged running through my mind.  There was little room for anything else.  Damn, instead of grasping on to all this anger, I should have been fleeing from it.  Running for my life.  Cutting it loose.


I know…How egoistical and overflowingly (like when the sewer backs up on ya) filled with one’s self than to title a Post  with your own name.  Maybe, but this isn’t really about that, although I personally feel the name Hansi has a nice ring to it, and a real clang, if said with a German accent.  That’s the way I heard it when growing up, especially when my mother was jumping in my shit for some misdeed or another.  Ah the joys of being a Little Hansi.  But hey!  I’m still a Little Hansi, but a lot more since I retired, and am no longer wasting my life fighting crime in the fucking probation department.

Well, profanity and  introspection aside.  This is more about drawing than any weird shit passing through my brain.  See, subject matter really doesn’t matter so much with me and in my drawing.  It’s more about line, form, and now color.  And subject matter (the crap I actually draw) is just the vehicle to explore these things.  It’s all about process for me.

Well here’s the stuff I processed a few nights ago.  Hope it doesn’t cause ya indigestion.

Inside Your Head

Being inside your head means being totally wrapped-up in an inner dialogue wherein you’re an active participant (really the only participant but you don’t know that because the consuming story is far too interesting), or at least that’s what it means to me.

When I’m inside my head all the time, the sad thing is I’m not outside my head where the world is going on.  I’m in my own little world.  It’s like checking out for a while: “No thank you world, I’ve had enough for a while; I’m checking out.”  Sometimes checking out is great, kinda like when ya leave  a shitty motel, after a night where it was noisy, unclean, and ya couldn’t sleep.  Boy am I ever glad when I check-out of one of those.  They suck.

Sometimes its beneficial  to check out from time to time and get inside your head.  The question is: How much is enough?  Guess that depends on how shitty your mental motel is. [ Mine has a spa and great room service with excellent refreshments].   It also depends on how deeply you go inside your head; you could get lost in there and never come out.  That’s way too deep for me, not to mention scary.  I prefer to leave the keys at the front desk way before then.  What’s sweet though, is when inside your head, you can tap into some creative juices, and that can be just plain refreshing.

And speaking of refreshments, I was inside my head when I had this great fantasy about the little boy on the cover of Time magazine, standing on a chair nursing from his mothers breast right after a workout at the gym.

I sure wished I was that little boy.  Taking a drink,  nonchalantly doing what comes natural without a care in the world.  Maybe a touch salty if Mom hadn’t showered after her workout, but  that’s  kinda  like having  a Margarita with salt on the rim of your glass, a nice contrast to the sweet flavors inside, but instead of being ice cold, it’d be body temperature.   How refreshing.

How’s that for being inside ones head?  Much more satisfying to me than watching Fox News or something like that.  I probably ought to get a copy of that Time issue to see what the real story is all about.  Somehow I don’t think it has anything to do with old retired guys.  Maybe it’s a right wing conspiracy to get little kids to wear camouflage pants early in life so they’ll be ready to fight our next war to protect corporate interests overseas.  Nothing like a bellyful of breast milk  to make ya wanna go off and bring democracy to the world.  But then again, I was inside my head, not inside Time magazine.  And you’ve been inside my head far longer than what is normally recommended as being safe.

Have a nice day.

Drunk Driving

Whatever you do, the one thing you don’t ever wanna do is get stopped for drunk driving.  Because if you’re caught driving under the influence of alcohol, or while intoxicated, or just generally messed-up on booze, well you’re screwed.  So unless you’re in the market for a good screwing, ya never ever wanna get “picked up” on a “deuce”, DUI, DWI, or what ever ya call it where you live.

And here’s why.  You may think old Hansi is just some retired guy who sits around the house  all day loaded and drawing weird shit to post on his stupid blog.  Well that’s true 99% of the time.  But a couple times a week, I go back to the House of Pain and work for my former probation department as a extra-help Probation Officer.  There, I assist two full time P.O.s who supervise two massive 2000 person first time DUI caseloads.

People convicted of driving Under the Influence are put on formal probation in my California County, and that means a Probation Officer is checking on you to see if you’re paying your $3000 in fines and fees; doing your work program (which you gotta pay for); and  attending your three to nine month drinking driver program (alcohol school, which ya once again gotta pay for too).

And if ya don’t, and one of us finds out ( here’s where the fornicating begins), then I’m writing a Violation of Probation declaration (no wonderful illustrations on them puppies), and sending you a nasty little letter telling you when your ass better be in court to avoid having a Bench Warrant  issued for your arrest.  Pretty cool.  Now I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t stand having someone like me, jumping in my shit and creating a world of hurt for my ass  just because I didn’t do something I was told to do.  No Sir.  Fuck that shit!

Pretty bizarre huh?  And one might even wonder, “Why the hell are you doing what ya did for thirty years now in retirement?”  Well, it’s simple.  See,I like having money (vaporizers and good medicine don’t come cheap), and fucking with people and being an asshole are the only marketable skills I have; ain’t no money in blogging.

So, next time you’re out n the town getting wasted, think about old Hansi.  Call a cab, it’s much cheaper than three years of probation.  Like they say in my neck of the woods: “Come to Ventura on vacation, leave  on probation”.


I love cartoons, the hand drawn type, and have a lot of awe and respect for those who can do cartoons well.  I’m even following a lot of people who are posting their cartoons.   You know who you are, and I can dig it!

I don’t consider myself a cartoonist as such, although most of my work is very “Cartoonie” in nature.  Maybe because  Mad magazine had a big impact on me as a youth in the late 50’s.  Mad illustrators:  Wallace Wood, Bill Elder, Jack Davis and more where my artistic idols, and blew my young mind with their illustrations.

I also like ‘comic-book’ art.  The highly stylized action comics and illustrated novel types.  Wish I could draw that way, but it’s not me.

The other art-form that blew me away, was the psychedelic art of the 60’s, such as a lot of the work on concert posters.  Trippy stuff.  An art nouveau redux if you will (also way cool art-wise, as are Pre-Raphaelites).  So why the Afro-centric feel to the last two.  Maybe it’s the Treyvon Martin shooting, I d0n’t know.  Pretty psychedelic don’t cha think 🙂


In order to be creative and keep your stuff fresh.  You gotta take chances.  For if you don’t take chances (with ones work, whatever medium it may be in), you’ll never have any break-through m0ments.   I know that at my age, I should be totally risk-averse; don’t know how many more chances I got left in this life.  Gotta play it safe.  But maybe I still have a shit-load of chances left, and could risk having a wealth of unused chances laying around, which will only be squandered by my heirs.

Oh well, you can see I’ve been reading Yahoo Finance articles way too much.  Kinda makes one paranoid with out the joy of having gotten high first.

So…if ya wanna be creative, you got to take chances, and with chance taking, there’s the  risk of failure.  I hate it when that happens.  I’d prefer to just throw what I was working on in the trash.  Cause that’s were it belongs.  But, if one looks at their failures straight on, there’s a multitude of lessons to be learned, besides the “I’ll never do that again”.  [Famous last words for me.  What I really mean when I say that  is: “I’ll give it just one more try, but I gotta recover first”.]

Finally, and getting to the point.  You may not believe this, but not everything old Hansi cranks out is  a masterpiece in crayon.  Some of them are real bombs; turds that just need to be flushed down the drain.  I’ve posted a couple of these losers before I forever delete them.  I tried some alchemy here, trying to turn shit into Solid Gold.

The night I did most of these, my artist Mojo just wasn’t working.  I tried to work into the first one.  It turned into four small sketches on one piece of paper. Had a vision about the second one featuring my name, but didn’t pull it off to my satisfaction.  [I’ll never try that again.]  The third one is just bad. Naked women and an ice cream sandwich just don’t go together (maybe naked women first, Then ice cream sandwitches).  But, staying at it, the one below turner out Okay.  My medication probably just finally kicked in.


This morning I was opening my e-mail, as I do every morning, to see if I got any comments on my blog. When I opened one from alan of tbaoo, instead of getting a cheery, upbeat bit about how wonderful my quirky drawings are, and what a great wit I am, I got a request for a guest post, featuring a drawing of what I thought he looked like, along with some commentary to match.

Well, drawing comes naturally to me. And commentary is a breeze. But making the two cohesive with some degree of sense to it all; that could be a problem. Also, I don’t do portraits. Doing likenesses is difficult, and I tend to shy away from all things difficult at this stage of life. But during a brief flash of lucidity, I thought, “Hey, I’ve never seen this guy (bloke) before in my life, and there’s no pictures of him on his blog. “No Problemo”.  And besides, if he wants me to do a likeness of what I think he looks like, then if it don’t really look like him, that’s his problem, and he better get to work on starting to look like my drawing.

Now,  I’ve been following tbaoo for well over a year, and I don’t really know much about alan (besides his first name). I know he lives in Australia, somewhere near the beach. But the whole place is just one big island, so that don’t help. He has some kind of mysterious job, that he alludes to, and even  goes to sometimes, or is in between. He does have good taste in music; seems fairly progressive; and supports our President Obama. So he’s not a total wanker. Then there’s his on-going story about Moony (a bloke) and his wild R-rated adventures (an alter-ego?).

Anyway, I don’t know why I drew him as being bald, maybe that’s the way he sounds to me from his blog. Strangely, when I read him, I don’t hear an accent of any kind. Must be all them lower case letters he uses, and his refusal to capitalize anything.

So there you have it and there it is. Pretty cool for old Hansi, to have now gone international. Be sure to check  tbaoo out. Hansi will be there too. Hopefully on the same day, but today for him is tomorrow for me, so if he posts his today, I won’t be able to post mine till tomorrow.  Evil date line

Now how’s that for for one big happy daisy-chain? Hey Alan, what’s buggering?

Old School

I really hate that term: Old School.  Maybe because it describes me so well.  Maybe because I am Old School (better than being  Old Fool); a relic from a former era.

In this day of chronic attention deficit disorder, where whole new worlds are just a ‘click’ away, anything older than fifteen minutes can be considered “Old School”.  That’s why I took this opportunity to slap together some older (school) stuff I did in March.

Hmmm.  One may even consider all this pencil stuff  I’ve done the Golden Age of Hansi

Cutting Off Your Nose

When I was a little kid, I was really into knights and all that medieval stuff.  Even had a Robin Hood set complete with tin castle and figures.  Richard Greene, who starred as Robin on the TV series, was the prominent figure.

So, having drawn this one, whilst in a deep state of nostalgic regression, I had to come up with a story.  And since it obviously looks like Prince John is about to slice off someones nose, I decided to write about cutting off your nose.

Now I don’t know about you, but I’d sure miss my nose were it to be cut off.  Not only does it keep my glasses up on my face, but I often times use it to discern danger.  When something is about to go south on ya, oftentimes there’s an odor emitted.  That’s a warning signal.  If it smells like bullshit, it probably is.

Some folks pierce their nose with jewelery (golden boogers?) and some intentionally cut off their noses, in an attempt to spite their face.  Guess I showed you!  Both practices seem rather silly to me.

While avoiding nose severance, something else ya wanna do is avoid having it grow on ya.  Lengthy noses are a sure sign of lying.  And if you fib too often (not just enough to get by), the old snozola is gonna grow.  Snorting lines of Viagra will do the same thing.  So watch out.

On a Tear

I’ve been on a creative tear (not tear) since February of this year.  Drawing a lot, adding color (a la coloured pencils) and posting more often.  [Don’t want to get into that daily posting boogie.  That would consume a lot of my time, not to mention all the hell I’d catch from the Wife for plopping my ancient ass in front of the computer all day].

I gotta say though, it’s been a trip.  Finding one’s creative groove is a wondrous thing.  And being able to immediately send it out into Cyber-space for general consumption, is something that artists have only recently been able to do.  And with all this speed in exhibiting ones work, I’ve found that I’ve been drawing faster, and maybe quality is suffering?

Creativity, for me, comes in busts. And it’s exciting when that’s happening, cause it’s the process, rather than finished product, that’s exhilarating for me.  But today I was thinking that maybe I’m ‘trying too hard’ to be a better artist (draftsmen really).  I even went to the Library recently and checked out some drawing and pencil books: how to draw types.  And sure as shit, creativity and spontaneity took a nose-dive.  I don’t need to learn how to draw better, but I do need to learn how to keep it fresh.

Hey, I Forgot These

I case you’ve been reading this with your eyes closed, Hansi has gone over to full color.   I know, pretty cool.  Well, these gems almost slipped by me.  See, I’ve been spending a lot of evenings not watching television but drawing, or in this case, coloring in old drawings.

Well there’s no turning back now, especially since I’ve raised the bar sorta speak.   Maybe it’s part of my new life-style design, except instead of designing it, I’m just illustrating it.


Optical Delusions

Things are often not what they appear to be.  Sometimes, something might look a certain way, but it proves to be otherwise.  That happens a lot in politics.  Some folk would like us to believe they hold the answer to our economic salvation, when in reality, they were the fools that got us into this mess in the first place.

Delusion is an interesting subject.  For me, it’s like thinking you know everything about of subject, when in fact you don’t even have a clue.  An “Optical Delusion” is when it looks like you know, having all the outward trappings of knowing, but are clueless (yet again) and further off target.  Optical delusions are fairly common everyday occurrences.  You see em all around ya; if you know what to look for.   That’s the hard part; discerning truth from delusion.  Illusion, thrown into the mix, only adds to the confusion.  Check this one out for an infusion.

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