Self-Improvement: Sketches (Part Two)

I’ve now been involved with the Jesters Royale, an improv comedy team based out of the Empress Theatre in Magna – which, for the most part, has been a lot of fun. The team is full of great people, and (if I may be so bold, blunt, and boastful) we’re pretty funny, too. And that’s probably why I got so disappointed last night when we had to cut our workshop short. I’ve been in a pretty sour mood ever since.

Thank goodness for my sketchpad! I’m feeling a bit better now.

Thought I’d take a minute and share a few more sketches with you:

Pretty good, huh?

So one section of Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, the book I’ve been working out of, asks the reader to try sketching a landscape that they might have drawn in their childhood. I don’t remember much about what I actually drew. I’m pretty sure I drew the pointed roofs like that, even though my house didn’t have one. I also remember drawing corner suns, which probably means something on some Freudian level, but, frankly, screw Freud.

(Don’t read too much into that)

And here we have an exercise called a contour drawing. I drew my hand without actually looking at the paper I was drawing on. The idea is that I could better interpret the shape of my hand if I didn’t actually look at it.

I kind of see the point. If you cross your eyes a bit, the lines kinda come together and look like… a giraffe. With wings. And big, googly cartoon eyes. Which I should probably draw someday.

Well, when I actually LOOK at my hand, it looks something like a hand. Turns out it’s a pretty good technique, which is why I went on to draw… my computer mouse. For some reason.

If you look closely, you can probably tell that I tried to actually write the word on the side of my mouse, and I totally failed. I’m sure that’s indicative of the fact that I really hadn’t let my right brain take over, and I was still trying to copy the SYMBOLS of letters my left-brain is familiar with rather than duplicate exactly what I was seeing. I’m also sure that Batman’s parents were shot on their way out of the movie theater after a showing of Zorro – like that matters to you. So let’s just forget about what I’m sure about and move on.

…to more comic book characters. I decided to try the upside-down drawing thing again, this time with a character called the Immortal Iron Fist. And, you know, it’s fun to copy other pictures that look good, but I don’t feel that makes me any better an artist. So here, I finally decided to draw a couple of things by myself, without any real visual aids. I didn't get very far.

I realized I don’t know much about facial features, so a lot of the faces I wound up copying from other sources. A lot of the artwork comes from different comic artists, including Tim Sale, whose mouths always look like weird little lines (as you can see from the Boris Karloff-esque face in the lower left up there).

Sharp-eyed readers may notice that there’s a face on the right side of the page that looks a little TOO good to be mine. Well, it’s not. I copied it from Manelle Oliphant’s design for the poster for the Empress Theatre’s production of Little Shop of Horrors. Manelle’s got a good sense for how a face should look… and I don’t, so I tried copying her.

I AM kind of proud of that weird-looking hunchback guy with the pimp-cane, though. I mean, it’s not exactly FANTASTIC artwork there, but that’s MY weird-looking hunchback guy with a pimp-cane, and there aren’t many people who can say that they’ve got a weird-looking hunchback guy with a pimp-cane.

So, yeah, I’m seeing some progress, but I know I’ve got a long way to go. It’s a fantastic experience, though, learning to draw, and I’m glad I’ve started.

Self-Improvement: Sketches

I've always had a kind of passive interest in art. I took a few art classes WAAAAY back in elementary school and junior high, but I've never really done anything since. Well, I recently decided to throw myself back into drawing, and so I'm gonna share a bit of that journey with you.

Why yes, you ARE exactly that fortunate.

Since it's been so long since I've really done ANY type of drawing (and I've never really been that great an artist), I asked my friend Manelle Oliphant for some suggestions on how to get started. Manelle, by the way, is a FANTASTIC artist - check some of her work out at http://www.manelleoliphant.com/.

Manelle recommended a book called Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, by Betty Edwards. The book's full of exercises which are meant to teach your dominant left brain to let the right brain take over when attempting to draw, as the right brain has a better sense of shape, curves, and so on. I've been working through the exercises, and, frankly, I'm kind of surprised with what I've come up with. It's not exactly Picasso-level art (well, most of it), but I'm still pleased.

The first exercises are just to overcome the fear of the blank page by drawing random lines - any way you feel - across the page, like so:




Next, the author suggests copying the "face vase" optical illusion. First, you draw a face from memory, identifying as you go the features of the face (brow, nose, lips, etc.). This is a left-brained activity. Then you copy the image on the opposite side of the page WITHOUT naming the features. Instead, you let your right brain focus on the visual aspects of the image - the depth of the curves, the length of the lines, etc.:

After that, you repeat the exercise with a nonhuman face (and I must say I enjoyed this one):

The first big exercise - the one that actually had me kind of intimidated - involved copying a picture while studying it upside-down. The theory is that the left side of the brain can interpret an image when it is oriented correctly. Thus, the left brain will try to draw a hand on its own (usually resulting in a very childish drawing) instead of copying the original image. By flipping the image around, though, the left brain is forced out of the picture, and the visual right brain can take over.

Here is the original image I tried to copy (as recommended in the Edwards book) - Pablo Picasso's portrait of Igor Stravinsky:

And here's my take on it:

Finally, since I'm a big comic book fan, I decided to try the upside-down technique one more time:

That's Stan Sakai's Usagi Yojimbo, a samurai rabbit who represents everything RIGHT with comic books (I mean, he has his own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure!).

I'll admit that these sketches aren't perfect - Usagi's head is a bit too flat, and Stravinsky's hands look awful. Still, though, it's a lot better than I thought I was capable of. We'll see what else I can come up with.

Braddy Cries a Single Tear for This Poor, Fallen World

Last summer I picked up a novel called The Thirteenth Tale. I'd had my eyes on this book for a long time - something about the cover design just caught my attention and wouldn't let it go.


When I finally read the book... well, it's a new favorite of mine. A reclusive book collector named Margaret is commissioned to write the biography of eccentric novelist Vida Winters. While composing the material she will turn into Vida's last book, Margaret stays at the mansion where Vida has gone into seclusion. Both Margaret and Vida lost a twin sister early in their lives, and each is haunted by their twin's absence as though by an actual ghost. The twins' presence can be felt all throughout the mansion and even follow Margaret when she travels into the English countryside to visit Vida's childhood home.

Between the giant, empty mansion and the omnipresent ghosts, the book feels a lot like Wuthering Heights.

And I mean that in a good way. Personally, I've always liked Wuthering Heights. It's not my favorite book, but it's a heck of a lot better than drivel like Jane Eyre, which every effin' high school kid is forced to read under threat of receiving a failing English grade. Some kids very wisely choose to fail anyway.

Anyway, though, Wuthering Heights is pretty good. And The Thirteenth Tale is exactly the kind of book to excite interest in a classic work of literature like Wuthering Heights. If only there was some way to reignite people’s interest in literature of this nature. If only SOMETHING could help young people see just how great a good book can...

Wait, what is this crap?! "Bella and Edward's Favorite Book"?!?!

No. No way. Shoot my effin' eyeballs out. This isn’t worth it.

Disney + Marvel = Hardcore Brilliance

Big news in the nerd-world: Disney bought out Marvel Comics. A lot of people seem to be worried, for some reason, that Disney is somehow going to “ruin” the superhero comics. As for me… well, I’m not sure.

I’ll admit the idea of a Disney-owned Marvel Comics really got my imagination fired up. I SHOULD have spent the day yesterday working on my lines for Arsenic and Old Lace (opening September 11 at the Empress Theatre. Purchase tickets at http://empresstheatre.com). Instead, though, I started hammering out story ideas which would inevitably result from the union of the House of Ideas and the House of Mouse.

Frankly, I think there’s a lot of potential here. For example:

The stress of leading a double life has finally broken Peter Parker’s spirit, and he retires the mask of Spider Man… perhaps forever. However, a chance encounter with a rising starlet may inspire Peter to accept who he his – both sides. Hannah Montana guest stars! Spider Man: Best of Both Worlds.

Peace continues to elude Bruce Banner, who escapes to Hawaii in search of a more relaxing environment. But when a sudden alien invasion brings out the green giant, it’s up to the ever-volatile Experiment #626 to bring him back to his senses. Can Stitch save the Earth from the Hulk’s rampage and teach Banner the true meaning of family? Find out in The Incredible Hulk: Ohana.

The woods were a peaceful place. However, this winter, all that changes with the arrival of drug runner Viggo Panarelli and the ruthless vigilante chasing him. As the snow piles up, the two men must battle the cold, wild animals, and the threat of starvation. Their violent feud will tear the forest apart… and the mystery of who killed Bambi’s mother will finally be revealed in The Punisher: Twitterpated.

(Wish I could take credit for this next one… unfortunately, it was actually Dax’s idea. Jerk)

Life looks good for the Senior Class of East High School… that is, until Troy’s skin turns purple and Sharpay suddenly grows gills. Now ostracized by their former friends, the two make a new home for themselves at a very different kind of school. Meanwhile, Gabriella struggles with her feelings for Troy and wonders if she can stay true. Come and sing along with your favorite teen idols as they learn to cope with the changes life brings in Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters: The Musical.

October 31, 2010: Notorious vampire hunter Blade awakens in a strange, demonic world, populated by creatures straight from his darkest nightmares. Now he fights to eradicate them before they can bridge the gap between their world and Earth. Little does he know that the very existence of the Earth depends on the continued existence of this terrifying realm. Now it’s up to Jack Skellington to bring the Daywalker to his senses in Blade: This is Halloween.

Cruella De Ville returns with a vengeance! Now that she owns the Dalmation Plantation, all hope seems lost. Desperately, Patch heads out into the great big world, looking for help… and he finds a most unexpected hero! You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, and you’ll claw your pillow in excitement as you read Wolverine: Dalmation Salvation.

Deep in uncharted space, the mad titan Thanos schemes to once again reunite the powerful Infinity Gems and establish himself as the supreme ruler of the universe. The only hope lies with an elite cadre of Space Rangers and their fearless leader – the inestimable Buzz Lightyear. Their battle will take the Rangers to the very edge and back! Find out more in Buzz Lightyear: Beyond Infinity.

His marriage to the magical princess Giselle seems to be rapidly deteriorating, so Robert turns to an old friend from law school to negotiate the divorce. Little does he know that the man he hired is the Man Without Fear! Now Matt Murdock finds his attention divided between helping his friend and tackling the latest machinations of arch-villain The Kingpin! Can true love prevail in Daredevil: Happily Ever After?

You know, I’m actually holding back. I didn’t even get into my Ghost Rider/Cars crossover. Honestly, though, stories like these could actually be good for both Disney and Marvel – provided no one took them TOO seriously (as we nerds are so prone to do). Let me ask you: What other Disney/Marvel crossovers would you like to see?

Bubble

You know, the REAL violence here is just in how BAD that girl I drew looks.

You WILL Howl in Fear and Delight

Saw a trailer the other day for the next big Robert Downey, Jr. vehicle: “Sherlock Holmes Dies Hard.” Yeah, yeah, I know that’s not what it’s called… but it might as WELL be! In three minutes, I got more than an eyeful of gratuitous fistfights, explosions, and (WORST of all) kissing. So yet again they’re taking and revamping some old property to make it new and sexy for the rising generation. And I don’t know why. I mean, isn’t watching Holmes play the violin after a relaxing afternoon in an opium den sexy enough?

You know what? I’m not going to fight this anymore. In fact, I want in on this. I’m gonna take some crazy old story and spice the HECK out of it until it becomes the best gee-dee thing you’ve ever seen. Here, I’ll describe the trailer for you, and then you just TELL me that you wouldn’t want to curl up with a tub of popcorn-flavored butter and watch the CRAP out of it:

Fade in to a luxurious green countryside dotted with sheep. We hear Hugh Jackman’s voice: “All I ever wanted was a life of peace.” Cut to a shot of Hugh Jackman. He leans on an axe handle and wipes his brow as the sun sets behind him.

Abrupt cut to black. Another Hugh Jackman voiceover: “Then the boy came… and everything… changed.”

Close up of a young boy’s face – specifically, his mouth. In a whisper just barely audible, he speaks but a single word: “Wolf.”

Heavy drumbeats. Fast and frantic music. We now see the face of a bearded Jeremy Irons, solemn in the light of a council fire. “We’ve heard tales of attacks in the forest,” he says in a voice filled with both authority and fear. “Animals gone missing,” he says, as the camera shows the shadowy outlines of bestial figures darting between forest trees at night. “Grown men frightened by noises in the night” – and here we cut to a series of shots of men sharpening swords, fashioning arrows, and donning thick leather armor.

“And now,” Jeremy Irons’s voice continues, as we move to a shot of armed men, obviously afraid, standing in a line at the edge of the town – willing, but afraid, to die in her defense, “the boy says they’ve come again.”

Cut to another nighttime scene. Hugh Jackman screams frantically, “Don’t listen to him!” as men swarm around him, past him, yelling into the darkness. “He’s a liar!”

Cut to Helena Bonham Carter, clutching the small boy to her. “He’s my son!” she sobs, as tears leave trails in the dirt on her face. Torchlight closes in around them, and we see the boy’s face: wide-eyed, probably terrified, but still with a hint of innocence.

The music grows in volume and intensity as we are bombarded with a flurry of shots: thatched roofs burning; Hugh Jackman clutching a bleeding body and screaming; blurry shapes attacking sheep in broad daylight; women and children fleeing in terror; Hugh Jackman and Jeremy Irons locking swords; heavily-armed soldiers marching in formation; Hugh Jackman sharing a passionate, desperate kiss with Helena Bonham Carter; and then…

Silence, except for a lingering, baleful howl. And here a shot of devilish yellow eyes.

Cut to armed men, marching through a foggy forest. We hear a voice say, “I don’t understand. Where is the wolf?”

Cut to Hugh Jackman, the leader of the patrol. He turns around, and we see in his face that he has come to a horrific confusion. His eyes widen, his face pales, and he says, “There is no wolf.”

And now we see the boy from earlier, sitting in darkness, with only a candle to light his face. His face, at first blank and expressionless, soon lifts in a haunting, sinister, EVIL smile.

The screen goes black one last time. Fog rolls across the screen as the title of the movie fades into view, in letters red with the blood of countless innocents:

The Boy Who Cried
WOLF

Who’s Afraid…?
Coming May 2010

Frickin' Babies

Once again, a couple of people have pointed out to me recently exactly how negative I always am about everything. I’d argue with all these people, except I’m pretty sure they have a point. I counted one day, and I found I actually used the word “hate” more than the word “the,” so I guess you could say that I have a problem.

Well, I’ll try to remedy that by talking about something positive and unquestionably happy, like… I dunno, how about babies? Yeah, I can talk about babies. Babies are all happy and stuff, like a big, happy ball of… turkey. No, not like turkey meat. I mean a whole turkey, like you’d pick up in the freezer section at the supermarket, take home, and then forget to put in the freezer, so they get all soft and squishy and leave a great big puddle on the counter.

You know, just like a real baby.

Okay, no happy thoughts about babies here. I’ve got very little positive to say about them. Babies are just a collection of orifices, each one ready to launch a sadistic variety of smelly fluids and fluid-like substances in every direction. They’re the suicide bombers of the human race, second in their skill only to actual suicide bombers.

I might get a lot of flak for saying this, but I don’t even think babies are all that cute. Well, most babies. Some babies are absolutely adorable. I am, of course, referring to your babies, and ONLY your babies, provided you’re a mother and you’re reading this.

Seriously, though, the average baby – especially newborn – looks like a monkey with a sunburn that just ate that powdery junk that collects at the bottom of a bag of Sour Patch Kids. I don’t get why people say seeing a newborn brings them so much Joy and Happiness™. To me, the kids look like they’re pretty pissed off to even be here.

“I used to spend all my time laying around, listening to the radio, and ordering pickles and peanut butter from the room service, and now you expect me to learn to CRAWL? Well, screw you!”

Oh, yeah, those babies have attitude like you wouldn’t believe. And they’re all out to get you. Take, for example, my niece, Clarice (and if I hear a peep out of anyone about how I’m a poet and didn’t know it, I will tie one of her soiled diapers to the end of a rope and beat them with it).

Now, Clarice is pretty adorable – as far as babies go. Besides, she’s family, so I’m a bit more forgiving towards her than other babies. At least, I WAS. Then this happened:

So I’m at my parents’ house one day for a party of some sort. I don’t remember the exact occasion. I’m tired, so I just lie down on the floor. My brother shows up with his kid under his arm, who, of course, crawls right on over to the guy lying on the floor. Now, I’m not COMPLETELY heartless (they found some heart fragments floating around down by my big toe), so I pick the kid up and start throwing her up in the air. You know, the type of thing uncles are supposed to do to endear themselves to their nieces and nephews and to scare the crap out of their mothers. I’m pretty sure we do it to convince the kids to supports US in our old age instead of their parents.

Anyway, while I’m doing this, little Clare decides to go all Luke Skywalker in the Death Star Trench on me. A blob of spit falls, right out of her mouth, and, guided by supernatural forces beyond the comprehension of mere mortals, lands right in mine. I immediately threw the baby on the floor (it’s cool – contrary to popular belief, babies bounce) and ran into the bathroom, where I spat my whole tongue out into the sink.

At this point you’re probably thinking that I’m just squeamish and overreacting. But you don’t understand. I know that baby’s out to get me. Don’t believe me? Well, right afterwards, my mom comes up to me and says, “You know, you probably ought to gargle with some salt water or something, because Clarice has got a mouth infection.”

You see? You see?! That baby’s trying to poison me!

And it gets WORSE! We have not yet plumbed the depths of this knavery.* Afterwards, just as I’m getting ready to leave, Mom comes up to me with the baby in her arms. Now, I’m no fool, so I just out and called the baby on her scheme. And what does she do? She looks at me with her big eyes all wet with evilness… and she reaches out for me to hold her. Then, THEN, she nuzzles her head right up against my cheek. Like I don’t know what she’s up to!

Well, that’s about all the happy I can muster this week. Tune in next week when I write about other things that make me happy, like dating or Katy Perry. Or dating Katy Perry.



*It took all the willpower I could muster not to write “That’s what she said” after this line.