mind expanding nonsense

Archive for February, 2013

More Rough Drafts

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Sometimes the creative process becomes a touch daunting (haunting?) for me, and I’m hesitant to draw, because I get this notion that everything I crank out has got to be a masterpiece.   Really good.  A worthy showcase of my ‘talent’.

That’s why I like doing roughs of things that may or may not be developed in the future.  I’ve taken of late, to going back and working on or re-working older drawings.  Taking a second look often helps me see what I hadn’t scene before.  So these two  sketches, lacking in composition, have potential in there somewhere.  I’ll have to revisit them in a few weeks (or perhaps wait til May).  Hope I don’t forget.

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The Last Page

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There’s nothing like the last page of a sketchbook *  It’s the last one, and that signifies closure; end of story: Fini.  I like that because it means that I’ve been doing a lot of drawing.  And if I’ve been doing a lot of drawing, I’ve been doing a lot of something else, and that’s good too.

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Well these three masterpieces are the last ones (in ascending order) from an old book I had laying around with some blank pages left. I like using a brown paper with ink and colored pencils for it allows me to use a white pencil for highlighting and adding volume to my figures.

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*Actually the last page of a sketchbook should be like the first page, and all in between, unless you’re using some cheapo art supplies, or stealing Zerox paper from work.

Stealing Pens From Work

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Okay, everybody does it and thinks nothing of it.  A pen that just happens to make it home with ya after work.  Why that ain’t stealing!  It just happens.  No big deal.  Anyway, I’m not gonna keep it forever.  I’ll bring it back to work when  all the ink is used up.  So it’s more like borrowing the pen…I’ll give it back to ya, but in a slightly used condition.  Let’s call it, “wear and tear”.  Hey, nothing is permanent, even when it comes to marking pens.

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So… I have all these pens laying around now, and I gotta use them,  (cheap pieces of Made In China crap that they are), cause fine art supplies are expensive, and, hard to steal.  When ya work in a bureaucratic paper-mill like I do, nobody’s gonna miss a few pens or pieces of paper:  half the stuff ends up shredded anyway.  When I go to the Supply Room, sometimes I start to think: Might as well grab a couple of number 2 pencils, Ow, there’s a ruler, and…Oh,  gotta have an eraser.  One can always use a stapler (might as well get one of those), then I’ll need a staple remover too.  A two-hole punch?  What the hey; never know when something might need to be punched twice.  Oh yeah, better take some manila folders to carry all this shit in.  A ream of paper would sure come in handy too. Double A batteries?  Never know when they’ll be an emergency.

Hell…this isn’t stealing.  It’s more like shopping.  Wonder what’s in the Lunch Room?

Finally, Another Vision

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You know, I wasn’t having any visions there for a while.  Seemed like they all up and vanished.  But then, I closed my eyes, and sure as shit, I see another vision.  I know what I was doin’ wrong.  I had my eyes open all the time, and instead of seeing any new visions, I was seein’ the same old crap,

Wow, what a difference closing my eyes made. I’m gonna start closing my eyes more often.  Hope I don’t fall asleep though.  Closing your eyes to what’s going on around ya is one thing.  Being totally asleep is another (unless of course it’s bed-time).  Sleeping is a world unto itself.  Especially if you have vivid dreams.  I mean totally wierd-ass stuff that could never happen in real life, like all the subconscious crap we process and try to make sense of daily.   Some of my dreams are really trippy.  Boy am I glad when I’m sometimes jolted awake after an especially good one, and to my relief, find it wasn’t real.

I think what I’d like to do is spend half of my time with my eyes closed, and the other half with them open.  Wonder if I  closed one eye, would I be able to see visions, while keeping the other eye open so I don’t crash into stuff.  The hard part would be which eye to pay the most attention to, and which one ya could pretty much ignore.  I think I’d probably go for closing both eyes, so then I could see the whole vision instead of just half of it.

Rough Drafts

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If I ever got back into oil painting, like I did in college and the early 70’s, I think my paintings would pretty much end up looking like my drawings, except much bigger.  But that is a matter for conjecture, as I seriously doubt that I’ll get back into painting.  All that turpentine and linseed oil really stink.  And I don’t wanna work that hard to achieve a finished product.  But a nice “rough draft” for future reference is nice.

Feb 2013 007

I think the roughest draft I’ve ever done was in 1969.  And the folks that wanted it done to me was The United States Selective Service.  I’d just graduated form College, my student deferment had expired, and they considered my ass  1-A, prime specimen for military service.  I was sure hoping’ they wouldn’t select me.

Needless to say, I wanted no part of that, and no part of the War Machine and it’s endeavors in Southeast Asia; Vietnam in particular.  So what I did was find myself the nearest Los Angeles area National Guard Unit and join ASAP.  Thing was, just before I was gonna join, the government instituted a Lottery for the Draft, just to make it more fair.  [The good old US of A sure likes lotteries to get what they want, be it money, or bodies; nothing like peddling a loosing proposition for one and all]. The dilemma was, should I join (which guaranteed a no Vietnam ticket), or, take my chances in the Lottery?

Well I joined.  Sure glad I did!  My ass was number 57.  A guaranteed ticket to Vietnam.   So I served my Country with honour for six long years as a “Weekend Warrior”.  What a joke.  Dig this:  When The Wife and I were working as surrogate parents in a mental health treatment home for severely disturbed kids, we were watching the afternoon news.  It was during the time of the UCSB campus riots in Santa Barbara.  The students (my brothers) were having a grand time demonstrating, then rioting, and then burning down the local branch of Bank of America, when they made the announcement that the National Guard had been called in, and there before my eyes was MY  Company, armed and keeping the peace just a few miles north of me.  They didn’t call me.  I then gave strict orders that no one was to answer the phone for any reason until all this simmered down.

Hey…I was ready to serve my country.  I just wasn’t taking any calls at the time.


Bass Ackwards

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You’ve probably heard the expression “Ass Backwards”.  Well, if ya don’t want to sound vulgar or come across as being crass, you can switch the beginning letters and come up with Bass Ackwards.  Pretty clever.  It means doing something, usually in the reverse order of how it’s normally done, and suffering with a shoddy outcome as a result.  So doing something bass ackwards, is generally to be avoided…except when it comes to me and blogging.

See, I prefer to start by drawing  an ass, or somehow featuring one prominently in my drawing,  and then working forward with delightful verbiage, which may or may not have any relationship to the drawing whatsoever.  The results vary.   Some times they’re good; some times a little Uucked Fup.

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Hanging Loose

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Being peaceful.  At ease.  Happy and content. Not overly worried about what may happen in the future.  No regrets over the past.  Relaxed.  Without fear.

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Wine and Weed

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Okay…it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what kind of mind state I was in when I did this drawing.  I guess it’s not as subtle as my usual stuff.  I was thinking about going on a rant about The War On drugs.  But we lost that one long ago. [ Sorta like our little venture in Afghanistan; nobody thinks it’s still a good idea, the population over there hates our asses, yet we stay on for some noble reason or another].

Actually, I was trying to do something like the front page or cover of a comic-book, with the lettering blazing over the images.  Wouldn’t it be cool to have a comic book about a old retired guy who got stoned and then drove around and did wine tasting all day?  He could then report all his adventures, along with commentary on all the fine wines he’d purchased (and medical marijuana dispensaries he stopped by), along the way.  “Why Hansi, that’s exactly what you should be doing.”

I think Not.  If I spend over five bucks on a wine at Trader Joes, I’m thinking to myself, “I’m drinkin’ the good shit tonight!”  Plus, I don’t wanna get popped for a DUI, then I’d end up on one of the probation caseloads I help mange as a “part-timer” in Probationland.  I wonder is my boss would let me “supervise” myself on probation?

Nope, drugs can be bad news, and alcohol will tear you up (tore up, from the floor up).   Finding a happy medium is often times difficult.  A lot of my friends who were big ‘acid-head’ hippies in the 60’s never touch weed anymore, but are happily drinking their asses off.  Then there are those “working a program” and need to maintain sobriety all the time.  I admire them, cause it’s a big insight to see that one has a problem and needs to take steps to actively deal with it.

I think everybody and everything likes to get high, and experience an altered mind-state, be it drugs, alcohol, sex, meditation or whatever.  Intoxicants are the fastest way, sex takes a while and usually only happens on Friday nights.  But meditation offers insight and liberation, and, is non addictive.  Plus, it’s a lot less expensive than the aforementioned alternatives.  Hmmm…maybe I should get back into it.

Where’d My Muse Go?

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Drawing for me goes in cycles, or bursts of creative activity (sometimes lasting weeks), after which I’m totally spent and empty.  The only thing I wanna do after all that action is lay back and have a cigarette.  Well, my drawing climaxed a few weeks ago, and I haven’t been doing much since.  It was all I could do to take colored pencils to this recent ink drawing.  I think my drawing muse done up and went.


In Greek mythology, the Muses were nine goddesses, daughters of Zeus, who personified the arts, literature, dance and music, and who often inspired some of us mere mortals to excel in these areas.  Thing is, there was no specific Muse for drawing.  So, I’m without a Muse.  Thalia is okay for comedy, and Erato good for love poetry (do dirty limericks count?), but no Drawalinggus. So it’s no wonder I’m in a slump, I have no hot, scantily clad goddess to inspire me.

If I did have a Muse, I think I’d call mine something like Charlena, Betty-Lou or Veronica (sounds like a bunch of ex-wives),  Goddesses of sleaze and bad taste.  Got to be gaudy, with “big hair” and lots of cheap jewelry, kinda like fishing lures hanging from their ears.  Clothing is always optional, with big bazooms a must.

I thought I’d post a few worthy candidates that I wouldn’t mind being inspired by.

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A Letter To Ziggy

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Okay, and let me refresh your memories.  I got an actual (you know like in the mail) letter from Ziggyshortcrust.  She’s writing 365 handwritten, and illustrated, letters this year.  That almost comes out to one a day, and is certainly much more challenging than anything I do daily.  So, part of the deal was that I’d write her a letter back.

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Thing is, Ziggy has exceptionally nice handwriting, and does exquisitely fine ink drawings.   Plus she must live close to a Post Office, cause she’s gotta be going there everyday!  Any way, this whole thing presented a challenge.  And a nice challenge it was, cause it made me focus on a task at hand and do something a little different, like drawing something that someone would actually see…in person.    Whoa!

It got me to thinkin’, I follow other bloggers who do art, or write some great rants, wouldn’t it be a trip to get a piece of their work in the mail?  I think so.

So, if you are interested in trying something totally revolutionary, and get a letter in your mail box, and I’m talkin’ about the one hanging on your front-door, and not this g-mail bullshit, then sent me an email with your address, and I’ll send you a Hansi Letter.   But, and here’s the thing, you gotta write me back!  Cause I’m gonna post all my letters to you (with great care given to confidentiality) and wanna post what you send me if that’s okay.

Just think, you could have your own original Hansi, and I could have one of your creations.  Mine are on heavy paper and very absorbent, so if ya hated the drawing you could always use it to mop up spills, or, use as a coaster to place your beer bottles on, so The Wife doesn’t jump in your shit about ruining all her good furniture

Well how do we get in contact with you Hansi.  Well you mail me!  Or, you have my e-mail address if I make comments on your blog.  Email me and give me your address.  Or make a comment (that always works). It would be a great joy to write you.

Sputnik and Satellite TV

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I don’t know about you, but when the Russians launched the  Sputnik satellite in the fifties, I was blown away.  Now I have my own satellite up there in space right next to God and Jesus, and it’s not just up there making a beeping noise, but up there fulfilling all my viewing and entertainment needs.  I said enough of this cable crap, I wanted something from outer space to satisfy my viewing needs.  And now I got it, my own satellite, with dish on my roof,  so I can receive all those extra-terrestrial signals right into my own living-room.  How cool is that?

We take a lot of things for granted these days, but all the technological crap we have  available today far exceeds any expectations of “wouldn’t it be cool if” when I was a kid. Now I got to admit it, I like watching TV.  I grew up watching all the classic TV shows of the fifties and sixties, and they made a big impression on me.  From the Mouseketeers, Disneyland and Lassie, to my favorite, The Twilight Zone.  I was eating that stuff up on a nightly basis.

Now, technology has brought me more TV than I could ever see, all the music one could want, plus, you can even buy stuff on-line and never have to go into another store again.  Why it’s a virtual paradise.  Although I still don’t have my own personal helicopter in my backyard, and do miss the inflatable woman I used to have; nothing better than the feel of cool, skin-colored, plastic.

But sometimes I do wonder, what would life be like without TV?  I got a taste of that after I got busted by the Cable Company and they severely cut the number of stations I’d had grown accosted to, but not paying for.  At first I went through withdrawals, but then I noticed I was a lot more calmer not watching all that political crap on MSNBC, and had more time to read, rather than watch yet another re-run of NCIS.  Wonder what life would be like without TV altogether?

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January Twentyfive

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I love double entendres, words or phases that can have two meanings, cause if one meaning is good, two is often times better.  Take the line from the above quoted blues song, “Let Me Ride In Your Automobile”.  Needless to say, the song wasn’t about transportation per say, although it seems like the singer wanted to be enjoy some time behind the someones ‘wheel’: a double entendre.

You’ve probably heard the saying, “Too many cooks can spoil the stew”.  That’s certainly a truism, and could get your ass “Chopped” from any kitchen.  I like Robert Cray’s version better:

Too many cooks are gonna spoil the stew

Too many cooks are gonna spoil the stew

Too many cooks are gonna spoil the stew

There ain’t nobody cookin’ but me and you

A nice sentiment.  A couple cooking together.  Must be big Food Channel fans.  Robert however takes it up a notch, and Bam!

Too many cooks are trying to get in your kitchen

The first thing ya know there’s something missing

You got a real good oven, you got a hot range too

Let me butter your buns, while you stir the stew.

Nothing better than a woman with good appliances (and a finely tuned  automobile).  All goes well, as long as they ‘re both running in proper order.  Sometimes one may to check under their hood for a little tune-up.  Robert goes on to say:

The stew you’re cooking, it smells so good

It’s got everybody talking in the neighborhood

Your spice’s so spicy, your sugar so sweet

Your meat is so tender and your juice a treat.

Sounds like this chic should open a restaurant with all those ‘culinary’ skills.  Maybe even do a little ‘catering’ on the side.  But no-way! Too many cooks could spoil that stew.  Ain’t nobody cooking but me and you!

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I’m trying something new here, so bare with me.  Usually when I draw in my sketchbook, I draw up and down, holding my sketchpad like you’d hold and read a   book.  But I got a wild hair, and decided to break the rules and turn it 90 degrees clockwise, and instead of drawing up and down, I’d try drawing something from side to side (sideways).  I know…pretty far out.  I must have been a little “sideways” at the time myself.

You may scoff, but this was a big deal.  I’m basically a “rule follower” in my personal life, and was even a “rule enforcer” in my professional life (what a joke)  as a probation officer.  Following the rules was real important to me then [now I think of rules more as suggestions, whose following is optional].  So turning a sketch Book sideways was never an option cause it was a book, and you’re supposed to read books up and down, never sideways.  [It’s okay to read magazines sideways, cause then the centerfold opens up more easily, but ya still end up going from top to bottom: although sometimes I start in the middle and work my way out].

So maybe I was feelin’ a little friskie when I did this one.  I liked it; The Wife didn’t.  She doesn’t like it when I get “friskie”, for fear that it may be contagious and rub off on her.


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Okay, I think it’s readily apparent that this is not a “serious” art blog.  Nor is there much else to be taken seriously when one stops by here for a hallucination.  For me, drawing all this stuff is more of a process, that I enjoy very much, whose end result varies radically in quality.

I’m not a “cartoonist” per-say, but was greatly influenced as a Teen by the early illustrators of Mad Magazine: Jack Davis, Bill Elder and Wallace Wood in particular.  The above drawing, which is totally lacking in any meaningful subject matter, was ‘roughed-out’ in pencil, then gone over in Ink, with the pencil lines erased.  Kinda like they did/do in comic books.  This process allows me a lot more control, versus the below drawing, which was just drawn with a pen.  [I know, I can’t tell the difference either.]

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To Bundle, or Not To Bundle

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I don’t know about you, but I get a shit-load of advertisements almost daily from cable TV, satellite providers and even the Phone Company, wanting me to “Bundle” with them for great savings.  Usually I’d just throw all that crap away, having come to the realization that “Bundling ” wasn’t bi-word for sex, like “cuddling”, as I thought (or  like all the email spam I get encouraging me to meet sexy divorced females looking for one-night stands in my area wanting to chat with me), but about consolidating all my communication needs into one package.  [A deeper look into all this “Bundling” revealed that it Was indeed about sex, and I’d be the one getting screwed in the second year of this relationship when prices sky-rocket].

Let me digress.  A number of years ago I signed up for cable TV, because my old roof antenna was starting to crap out on me, leaving me to watch all my favorite shows through a haze.  Well, as much as I enjoy doing things while in a haze, having it on the old Tube was more than I could stand.  So I got cable, and when the guy who contracts with the Cable Company came by to hook me up, he asked me what I signed up for (they apparently didn’t tell him) ; I told him just the basic service.  Well he, probably  having no loyalty to the company whatsoever, as they were paying him on a piece-meal basis, hooked me up with ‘Expanded Basic’.  So instead of the dozen or so channels I ordered and wanted to pay for, I was now getting 50 plus channels of all the political bullshit, endless re-runs and reality shows one could stand.  Pretty cool.

Now you may question the morality of getting more than what you’re paying for.  Isn’t that theft?  Thou shalt not steal.   Well Hell No!  See, when I was fighting crime as a probation officer, I learned that people don’t change their evil ways unless they’re made to suffer, and if the cable company was filled with a bunch of dumb-shits who hired people who didn’t give a shit, well they deserved to suffer.

Lo and behold, all these years of  moral superiority came to a screeching halt a few days ago, when I found a placard on my front door stating that a recent audit revealed I was getting services to which I was not entitled. Damn….Busted!  And if I wanted all those all those extra channels that I’ve grown accustomed to (filled with loads of high-definition happy horse-shit), I’d have to pay an extra $20 a month more for all that viewing pleasure.

I did this little drawing for their viewing pleasure.

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