Are you MX Missile proof? Or are you just aloof?

So, a lot has been up since April 1st. I'm 23 years old now, had a pretty good birthday (considering it fell on a Monday) with the Vegan Contingent on the lower east side. I've been house-sitting in Park Slope for the last two weeks, now and it saved me a lot of time from the commute. Beautiful area. The air is fresh, only half an hour from work. I got to have a nice NYC Saturday morning of breakfast out and the some window shopping in the local Barnes and Noble (with it's more than adequate sci fi/fantasy section). And I got a bunch of illustrations cranked out, though I'm a little nervous since I haven't heard any feedback from my client. I do miss CT a bit, though. It's a studio apartment, so there's no one around to say,"I'm glad you're home". Not even Stewart to beg for my food. And I miss my own bed and things. All things considered, though; if I had $1300 per month to spend on an apartment, I would live here.

I wish I could post what I've been working on, but I have to wait until 90 days after publication. So keep an eye out in August/September/October (not sure about what the final publishing date is). I have to reflect that the Paizo.com messageboards have been the best marketing tool I've had so far. The friends I've made there have lead me to work I didn't think I would get after some of my teachers in college basically said that I wasn't skilled enough technically to pursue this field. My ego has gotten a bit of a boost, which is good since I was down in the dumps for a while and struggling. And it's pretty nice that it's an almost grass roots internet thing, where word of mouth has been a greater advertisement than anything else. I'll have to invest in some real promo material soon, though.

My day job has been brutal lately, but I still kind of like it. Everyone I work with is pretty cool, it's just a really busy time and people are having babies all over the place, so the married James and the bachelor James have had to put in a lot of hours. Looking forward to when it normals off. I'm also hoping to get a permanent place in Brooklyn soon with two worthy prospective room mates. All in all, life is decent even if I wish I had more time for my illustration work.

I got kind of sad the night before my birthday. It's silly, for a 23 year old guy, but I couldn't help but think about the opportunities that I missed or the fact that my youth (the youth that came before this) seems not to have bee spent enjoying being young. I thought of all the doors that were open that are closing. I was never and will never be the bright young Apollo or Adonis of anyone's story. My time for clumsy teenaged love is (in theory) over, washed away in years of frustration until I (in theory) should be looking for something more permanent. Does that make sense? Basically, that's the fancy way of saying that I wish I had had more premarital sex. I thought about all of the people that I had known and the decisions that I had made. I knew someone that swore she didn't have any regrets or that she refused to regret anything. And I thought that was a rather self-centered way of seeing things; I interpreted lack of regret as saying,"I'm always right". How can you learn from your mistakes if you don't regret them? But maybe I'm considering regret in the wrong light. Maybe she meant regret as in dwelling on past mistakes and missed opportunities rather than squaring your shoulders and continuing. But I still regret things; I regret things left and right.

Mostly not having enough premarital sex. Cannot stress that enough.

I also thought about memory and about the way we protect ourselves. Every memory that we have is polished and altered by recollection; we always try to find different facts and facets so that no matter what the situation is in the break up or the argument, we're always the good guys. We're always right in our own memories (at least, where we really WANT to be right). So I had to consider the near relationships that I've had in my past and how I may have dressed things up in my own favor and how the other party likely did that same thing. For you and I, the only truth is in the present, because the future is uncertain and the past is doctored. I'll go my way and you'll go yours and both of us will be certain that we got the better of the other.

I dunno. I've said it before and I'll say it again: it freaks me out that my days of sniffing glue and shooting firearms may come to an end in the next several years. Well, that's enough head-up-ass time for me, I suppose.

I've been out of college for a year now and it flew by. I do wish that I was the illustration world's hot young darling, but I've never been that nor will I ever be. I guess I'm the "dark horse" as my department head said and that's fine. I may not be busting out all over the place, but I'm better off than I was a year ago. Steady employment, sporadic work in the fantasy gaming racket. Not bad.

I met a friend of a friend recently and we were talking about what we did, writing vs. art. And I explained that I do illustrations for small internet only D&D publications and that I've wanted to illustrate things like that since I was 11. And he said,"So, you're living your dream, then." And I tried to bargain. "Well, I'm trying to." But he insisted on the truth. "You are." And I realized that I am. Even if I'm not top dog, even if I need a day job to get by. I am doing what I've always wanted for 12 years. Am I completely pleased with my work? Absolutely not. I still have a long way to go. But this is a start toward really achieving my goals and that's more than what some folks out there can say. So, I'll try for less bellyaching; I'm grateful that I'm getting a real shot.

Y2K is back! It's coming for you!!

I sometimes fear the Karmic Debt that is likely following me from drawing so many mutated babies. I guess I won't really have to worry about it until/unless I spawn some offspring. My comeuppance will be here one day, of that I am sure.

I have another commission to work on in my two hours a night after work. Sketches due Saturday, finish a week after. I'm sure I'll make it and I hope it leads to more work. I need to do more color stuff, but black and white is treating me well. I'm trying to draw everyday, which is what I always say I'm trying to do and never quite do.

I got a new courier bag the other day and it's pretty great. Seems to be weatherproof, enough room for my sketchbook, pencil box and a little secret compartment for my ipod and train ticket. There's also a padded enclosure for my laptop. I may try bringing it with me on the train, but I've got mixed opinions on that. I don't like people looking over my shoulder while I download pornography in a public place. So rude. And, of course, it could get swiped. I always felt like a spazz with a huge canvas shoulder bag every day on the subway, but this one fits snug and it's just big enough for everything.

I think I'm finally on the payroll at work, so I can expect to get my paychecks on time. I can't wait to move to the city.

My glasses got hit by a train on Good Friday. It's been more than a week, but they haven't come back to life.

Sometimes I feel bad about things that aren't my fault or that I can't help; either because it's just the way I act or because it's too late. And sometimes I go in the other direction and I feel completely justified to be furious at someone and usually that's when I end up being a prick. So I find that I often don't get mad when I should or that I try to make excuses for other people when they don't deserve it. I dunno. People really treat me shitty sometimes and I either completely overreact or just take it. I want to find a middle ground because I think I need to be more assertive and not let someone put me down or treat me in ways that I don't deserve to be treated just because I want to see their side of things. I'm not someone you settle for. I'm pretty awesome, lovehandles and all. And I definitely don't think I'm someone you just abruptly stop talking to for no reason or get back in touch with because you don't feel like you have enough friends. I don't deserve to be anyone's backup or random distraction and I think my feelings deserve at least some recognition. I have a lot of long train rides to use to think about stuff like that.

So, yeah. My birthday is a month and four days from now which is cool. 23 years old, look like I'm 30. Top notch. I wonder what I'm going to do, even though 23 isn't anything, really.

I'm a skeleton in a crawlspace, Jim!

Just to prove that I'm not a completely worthless kvetch machine, here are some sketches I did at work:


Characters interracting together in a scene are what I'm after and I think I did okay. The composition may need some work, but I kind of like it. Trying to imagine how annoying it would be to have a talking box follow you everywhere, snooping and butting in while you're just trying to read and be a ram-man.


The number one hobby of men with goat legs is hugging skeletons. I bet you didn't know that, did you? Even with your grad student worldliness and Starbucks liberalism, I bet you didn't know that!

Pathetic.


More character thumbnails, some more successful than others. I swear to God I'm going to make a few of these into final pieces. I swear.


Trying to get a little specific with the armor in this one; make it look more historical than video-game fantasy, even with the Heironymous Bosch helmet thingy. I need to draw more ladies.

I'll have a new creepy giant baby drawing for you soon.

It's every man for himself on Free Bagel Day.

First of all, if you like comics and you like fucked up demons, check out Guy Davis' artwork. I really love his work and as I take my own stuff into more of a drawingy direction, he's someone I'm looking at. For $20, I got a copy of his second Sketch Macabre book, a copy of BPRD: Killing Ground #1 and a little Abe Sapien sketch, all signed to your truly. What a sweet guy: buy stuff from Guy Davis today!

My own work has, unfortunately, taken a back seat while I commute to my day job every day and, you know, I kind of like to have time where I'm just not working on anything. It sucks. I wanted to have a good portfolio together by around this time and in my opinion, I don't have that. Granted, I would have practically no time at all to work on commissions if I even landed some right now, so...

I like the most recent stuff I did for Adam's promo adventure and I want to do more like that, but I'm just so beat when I get home and I have to get up so early that it pretty well removes 5 days of the week from my schedule for my own stuff. I want to move to the city desperately so I can have some more time every day, but no one that I want to move in with is ready and likely won't be for a few months and if I stay with someone, I don't want to make a mess while I'm there and it's not really very social to hunch over a drawing while someone's invited you to their home. Occasionally, though, I get payed to draw in my sketchbook at work because (very rarely) someone may not have calendars to work on or dummies to make. I'll post something this weekend; I've got one really worked out tiny sketch that has some real potential: two characters, interacting in front of a background! Holy shit!

I feel like Billy Pilgrim from Vonnegut's perennial classic, Slaughterhouse Five, except on a smaller scale. I'm trained like Pavlov's dog so that once my ass hits the horrible MetroNorth seats, I immediately start getting drowsy. I go to sleep for a few minutes at a time and when I wake up, I'm somewhere else and an unknown amount of time has passed. I often wake up when my internal clock goes off before the alarm and I don't know where I am. Someone's floor? My own bed? New York? Connecticut? My dreams have become half-remembered messes of creeping anxiety: I'm always late, missing the train, taking the wrong one, forgetting something important, powerless to do anything. At least that's the impression of my dreams: I never really remember them. They're just half-recalled feelings of panic and unease, like a letter from a crazy person. I miss my fucked up pseudo sex dreams, to be entirely honest.

I also kind of get mood swings now. I blame my crazy schedule and erratic sleep; I don't think I need brain medicine. Sometimes, something just touches off in my head (or many things, like today: being seemingly ignored with no explanation by someone I feel strongly about, not getting payed on time; feeling underappreciated, exhausted and worried) and I'm ruined for most of the day. Sullen and pissed. It's not an uncommon thing: that's pretty much what high school was like. Other days I'm fine, even cheerful. And something little can send me in the other direction. I almost giggled when I remembered ol' George W. Bush's description of how OBGYNs will be allowed to continue to "practice their love" with the women of America.

I'm worried about falling into the day job pitfalls; that I'll get so used to getting that cheque every two weeks that I won't want to ever give it up and I'll compromise what I really want to do in order to maintain it. As much as I sometimes enjoy the job I do (and especially like the people I work with), it's not what I want to do with the rest of my life. I guess it's just something I have to keep an eye on.

Happy Easter, Jesus types.

I'm getting published.

Hey, if you buy the March issue of Kobold Quarterly, you'll get this sweet bonus adventure by Adam Daigle. It's got gnomes, kobolds, a garnet mine. Everything you could ever want from a small press magazine about kobolds. And as an extra special bonus, the three illustrations I took way too long to make will be in there. Eh? Eh?

I did these in inkwash with some white gouache and digital retouching (only really for the webs in this spider picture). Sumi ink is much, much nicer than Higgins for the purposes of making washes. Much more rich and the ink smells nice. However, it isn't completey waterproof, so if you're like me and you like to put down your hard lines and things first and then work on top, you can lift some tone where you don't want to. I like these a lot and even though I think I still have a ways to go before I can make a living with these, I feel pretty confident and I'm eager to make 7-12 more pictures for a portfolio. I need to figure out how I'll do color work, though, because it's not my strong suit but it pays a lot better than black and white. I want to start with smaller companies for sure, though, so black and white interior illustrations aren't a bad place to start.

My mother gave me a little desk easel from the basement downstairs that used to belong to my great uncle on my mother's side, who was an artist and a photographer for the local newspaper in Bridgeport, CT. Little known fact: he actually took the first photograph of Igor Sikorsky flying in the first helicopter right in Stratford. At least, that's what my mother says; I still need to check it out.

I'm still not sure if my job is going to be a relatively permanent full time or not. The meetings keep getting pushed back and even though it's frustrating, it's not really anyone's fault so I can't get too upset.

I am an eternal kvetch, but I'm actually rather happy with my life at the moment. It feels weird. I at least feel like progress is being made to realize my true potential as an absolutely awesome human being that pisses rainbows and craps excellence. I'm bone tired at the end of the day and I often don't have the energy to draw or anything after work because of the commute but beyond that I'm pretty happy. I like where my work is going, as I've said, and even though I don't know where it will go I'm reconnecting with someone special and it feels good. It kind of sucks that every woman I have a real interest in is either spoken for or lives a long distance away, but I live with what I've got and I'm past the point of worrying.

I'll be 23 in about two months. And that's nothing, of course; I have seven more years to fuck on the floor and break shit before I really need to get serious. But there's that lingering feeling that things will start to change. My friends, in a matter of years, may start pairing up and getting married. They may stop shooting firearms and huffing glue; instead they may start families and shop at Ikea. And I find myself wondering: what will I be doing? Will I be pairing up and going off to spawn or will I just be free floating, having a ton of fun from 20-35 until I realize that I really did want a family of my own and that it's far too late? I don't know and I don't ask for the purpose of sympathy; I'm just wondering. I want to travel, that much is certain. I'm young, I don't have a mortgage or anything really tying me up anywhere so now is the time to get out there and see the world, or at the very least a little more of the United States. But I also need to save money if I'm going to get an apartment independent of my folks and eventually strike out on my own as an illustrator. And then I have to wonder if I want a family of my own.

On the one hand, my weiner thinks I should have kids. My brain thinks that may be a really bad idea; kids are expensive and I don't know how reliable my income will be, nor whether or not I would make a really good father. I feel like I would regret it if I didn't and that maybe because I've been so blessed with great parents, I should pass that on to kids of my own one day. But there's a lot that I want to do and I'm not terribly confident in my ability to keep a relationship together, much less a marriage (of course, a marriage doesn't mean kids and kids don't mean a marriage, but that's the scenario that I would want if I came down on the "have kids" side). Again, not looking for anything; it's just something I've observed of my own history. The future is a vast and foreign country.

I got the Call of Cthulu campaign book "Tatters of the King" from amazon this week and I like it a lot so far, even though I haven't had any more than one opportunity to run a CoC game. I like to read it on the train to and from work. People look at me funny, wondering what the hell I'm reading. I'm just waiting for someone to ask me about it so I can look up with my baggy, sleep deprived eyes and ask if they've "seen the Yellow Sign". It's Hasturific!

Go buy Kobold Quarterly's March issue when it comes out or else I'll have to talk more about weiners and babies and shit and then Lord only knows what will happen after that!

Fish Titties

Finalish inkwash version of the icicle room drawing for my friend Adam's article. I have to do the spider one tomorrow and a few adjustments on the keys picture and then I can get going on new stuff. I like how they're going. I need to teach myself more Photoshop and I need to learn to paint better and to use color. I've learned enough InDesign to make my own invoices, which is cool, though really basic. Couple that with my just enough to get by Dreamweaver knowledge and I'm almost barely comepetent. Yay!

I worked all week; it was okay, nothing too bad. Cut myself a whole lot, but that's what happens when you use an exacto knife constantly. I like just about everyone I work with, but the commute really really sucks and it's definitely not a job I want to have for the rest of my life. I'm hoping that if I find out next week that they want me on for good, it will allow me to put money away, pay bills and keep myself going while I work out a really good portfolio so I can freelance full time. But we'll see how that goes. If I don't get it, I'm going to have to get back to the job hunt, which really sucks. I get pretty mad sometimes, thinking that I have to get up at 5:30 AM to go to work, rush my ass off for the train and subway connections and then have to repeat the same miracles of timing on my way home and still have no real security at the present job. If I miss that first subway, the 1, on my way home, it's almost certainly a half hour delay getting back because of the trains. And that really pisses me off, since it cuts into the two hours a working day I had between getting home and having to go to bed. I guess it is encouraging that they've asked me in for more hours than originally planned and I certainly dig the pay. All in all, it isn't too bad and I shouldn't kvetch overmuch, especially if my sisters let me stay at their place whenever I need to.

I was tempted to post on Valentine's Day, then I remembered that that shit is a little too 15 year old James with a Livejournal for me. So I just had the usual quiet evening at home with Rosy Palms and her Five Friends, wearing my crash helmet and weeping ever so softly. Yes, that is information you needed.

I'm considering finally taking my older sister's advice and opening an Etsy shop to sell the pieces that I don't want anymore and I unfortunately couldn't sell at SQFT while it was open. I don't know who would buy them, but we'll have to see, eh?

My mind is a fucked to death pile of burning ca-ca.

That's the finalish inkwash drawing for the kobold mine. It needs some more adjustments; more rocky texture on the walls, darker darks on the figures, maybe a few hits with white gouache or acrylic to make those light areas a bit more punchy. But I like where it's going and I've finally managed to make a piece with my ass right in your face, just like real life! I need to get these done by Friday or next weekend, thereabouts, with a full week of work ahead of me.

Work has been interesting. Some days it's pretty good and I enjoy myself, other days I wonder why they even asked me to come in. I like everyone there, just about and when I get to use my hands, I'm pretty busy at least. Printing stuff and collating are pretty abstract to me and honestly pretty boring, but even when it's a repetitive thing, I like piecing together calendars with an exacto knife and double sided tape or things like that. A little more concrete and I feel like I've done something when I go home with a lot of little cuts on my fingers. If you took the commute out of the equation and all of the crap that goes with it, I would be pretty happy with the job.

The commute still renders my mind into a fucked to death pile of burning ca-ca by the time I wake up for work or get home, but I'm starting to get on the schedule. At my present freelance post, they'll know by the end of the month whether or not they want to keep me on. At least two more weeks there, they say and then whatever my original boss has in mind for me. If I stay on it's decent pay but no benefits, but it will be a stable enough situation that maybe I can get a place in the city, finally. I need to make sure I draw for at least a little while every day, though. I can't afford to get lazier than I already am. It'll be awesome if I can actually move back to the city.