INKTOBER 14.15 - Andrew WYETH (Y-eth) 100 years. Watercolor god of god gods, and egg tempura (yum, not)

It may have been the root canal, but I feel WAAAAAAAY better. 

 I really love Andrew Wyeth.  Some say his work is cold and lonely. I say peaceful and full of emotion.  There's an exhibit at SAM through early next year (2018). see it if you can.  It's accessible work.  See if you can make a story from the image with your kids.  

ALso- I have always hated ballpoint for writing...and drawing.  And the hatching technique just exposed my laziness. But I was inspired by a Russian/Seattle artist whose ballpoint work (sketches) made me say, "I want to do THAT." Katrina something something...I can't find a link right now.

These stink, really, in person.  I bought a Rotring Rapid Pro and replace the OE ink tank for an easyFLOW Schmidt. so smooth.  I can go on.... 

Didn't know he had stamps!!!!  -------->

 

I always hated the sheen from the ink....

SEE??!!  Bugging me, even made a note about it.  and seriously fucked up spelling.  Maybe I do have a tumor. Would explain away things for lazy-brained people.

More ballpoint practice....

INKTOBER 08.09.10.11.12.13 - How pleasant to sit on the beach

Green Ghost Crab

Didn't ink it.  graphite'd it. 

Fucking NRA shitheads. 

 Average NRA member terrorist

Jackie-Pooh

INKTOBER 05.06.07 - Despite having a brutal reputation she never killed or harmed anyone that he held prisoner.

You can always trust the untrustworthy because you can always trust that they will be untrustworthy. Its the trustworthy you can’t trust.

--Cpt. Jack Sparrow

INKTOBER 04 - Smokey the Bear's idiot redneck cousin likes things that go boom.

Turns out 'Mountain Formal' is code for no fucking kids. So me and my half-bloods are holding down the insane asylum called our home and drawing, some on paper, some on the floor with fucking nail polish.  Hell, I wouldn't want us either...

Remember, "Only YOU can prevent lush green forests."

INKTOBER 02, 03 - ARRRRRGH, Me Britchees Be Itchees

Pirate, ho.  Ahoy there my internet strangers!  Take a look.  My beard beads, War Hog and Cpt. Teach  gave me the kick in the pants to draw some more - holy shit am I behind!  

I gots a new ballpoint pen.  I hate ballpoint, but this one runs pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty smooth and consistent.  It's an A.G Spalding - there's a different design of the same pen I already have (just more texture, details, same guts) but the replacement ink/roller I found isn't the same as whatever they ship it with.  Which is annoying.  

INKTOBER 01 - RE: Las Vegas; Was it pop.pop..pop or was it poppopopopopopopopop?

The NRA is an Terrorist Organization.  

Light at San Fransisco is none of your East Coast light

Palace of Fine Arts - Those are supposed to be Dementors

One of two bldgs remaining from the 1915 Panama-Pacific International Exhibition. 

 same.

Ghirardelli Choco Facto from Hydr St. Pier.

SS Eureka w/ Morgen and Maren on deck. Life saver.

Rope tie-off for ferry

Tug Boat HERCULES

 SS Eureka Anchor

 The Utah

Knot of some sort on deck of SS Baraclutha

Alcatraz Island from shore.

Alioto - Lazio Crab - one of 2 remaining crabbers on Fisherman's Wharf.

some bridge.

Piedmont - Men's drag shop on Haight

Jimi painting on the side of his "Red House' in Haight/Ashbury

Fisherman's wharf Sign

Crab sculpture at Pier 39 entry

 Philadelphia streetcar on San Fransisco - they restore, operate, and maintain streetcars from around the world.

Pier 43?  I heard this was originally built for a big PR thing when Capone went to Alcatraz.

The Changing Light

Lawrence Ferlinghetti, 1919

The changing light
                 at San Francisco
       is none of your East Coast light
                none of your
                            pearly light of Paris
The light of San Francisco
                        is a sea light
                                       an island light
And the light of fog
                   blanketing the hills
          drifting in at night
                      through the Golden Gate
                                       to lie on the city at dawn
And then the halcyon late mornings
       after the fog burns off
            and the sun paints white houses
                                    with the sea light of Greece
                 with sharp clean shadows 
                       making the town look like
                                it had just been painted

But the wind comes up at four o’clock
                                     sweeping the hills

And then the veil of light of early evening

And then another scrim
                  when the new night fog
                                        floats in
And in that vale of light
                      the city drifts
                                    anchorless upon the ocean