Hello Kitty Desk Stand

I made this Hello Kitty desk stand. I'm very happy with it. I hope you like it too. :-)

Tattoo #2

 

Man, this design is just Mad. There’s no dead space at all in this tattoo. There’s something going on everywhere. The largest areas of nothing are the red parts of the flames. I like the rim-light on the flames. It is high contrast and rich in color. The hat is brilliant too. Again with the rim-light. The big splash with the 13 in it fills the whole top of the hat. There could have been a detail on the hatband. I like the shading on the brim of the hat too. Again, it’s a rim-light.

It’s interesting that the skull has hair, eyebrows, and a mustache. The hair is stylized too. It sticks out from the head in a straight line, strange. I would have thought that being a tattoo, the skull would look mean, but this one looks sleepy, with a cheesy grin. Eyeballs and eyelids along with the red lips make this a strange skull indeed. The goatee is stylized too, being a diamond shape. Again the skull has rim-light shading.

Interesting that some parts of the crossbones are not rim-lit. The ends of them are however and I guess they’re the important bits.

The lettering is amazing. I have never seen a scroll flopped over anything in all my years of looking at tattoos. It’s a wonderful new take on an old icon. Again the scroll is heavily shaded and rim-lit.

It’’s interesting how the flames turn into dripping blood at the bottom. Playing cards are very hard to draw effectively as they don’t offer the artist much to work with in terms of natural opportunities for shading. Here Karl has given each card a boarder, which is something. And then he’s gone for the opposite of a rim-light. I guess you could call that a “fill-light”. It fills the centre area but leaves the edges of the cards in darkness. The club on the Ace of clubs is very wonky, but it works and doesn’t look out of place. When I draw things, I like them to be “correct”, this is often a bad thing.

Most of the tattoo’s background is filled with the spider web. It’s a chunky, fully rendered one, not just lines. I haven’t drawn a spider web before, but it appears that there is a rule to the shading. Each diamond shape is shaded the same way. If you look at it diagonally, one corner is in deep shadow, while the other one is rim-lit.

Flaming dice on each side, fill up some open space. The shading on the dice seems complicated, so I’ll leave it for the moment. Below the spider web is a great pattern of dots and stars. The dots are all uniform in size and there are two different kinds of stars. One star is the traditional five pointer and the other one looks almost like an asterisk.. almost.

The top of the design is crowned with darkly rendered swirls. They don’t seem to be representing anything, like wind or water for example. They just seem to be a nice pattern.

I missed that the skull has a cigarette in a holder. I missed it because in my opinion, it’s too thin, and needs to be chunkier. There is also a lovely plume of smoke rising from the end of the cigarette.

The nose of the skull is a spade. A graphic element in an unexpected place.. nice. The teeth are represented with a simple grid. There has been no attempt made to show different shapes in the teeth or different kinds of teeth. The gap at the front is quirky and a strange inclusion. I like it though. Also a gold tooth to put detail in where it can be fitted.

WOW.. Now that I’ve looked at this design so closely, I REALLY want to do my own version!

Tattoo #1

 

I have a lot of tattoo magazines and when I flick through them I enjoy what I see very much. I have wanted to draw more tattoo designs for a long time and there’s some cognitive thing that’s stopping me. I am just not clocking what tattoos I like and why I like them. I went through a very large tattoo book and only found about 40 tattoos that I liked. I photographed them. What I want to do is look at each and find out what it is about it that pushes my buttons. Hopefully this will lead to me being able to draw my own designs. Knowledge is power.. I guess..

I like the overall pattern of dark and light in this design. The skull is warped and not at all in drawing, but that doesn’t bother me. The style is so strong it makes up for that. I like the way the skull is nested in amongst the waves. I like how the waves turn into dots on the upper left. The waves don’t really look like waves much come to think of it. I like them just the same. The skull has deep indents on it’s surface that wouldn’t be there on a real skull. There seems to be an internal logic that there should never be much space that doesn’t have dark and light tones in it. The only exception to this seems to be the eyes.

The design just finishes in a slightly blurred line at the bottom and the top finishes with the top of the skull’s head.

Inhale Cheers in Color

I drew this Charlie Sheen Cartoon and finished coloring it today. I hope you like it :-)

Inhale Cheers

Here is a cartoon of charlie sheen I'm working on at the moment.

Diamonds

In the beginning, when I was first born, did I have an ego? I wonder about this. I really don’t know the answer to that question, but I do know that I had a brain and a mind, and where the mind is, the ego surely follows. I feel I am on safe ground to say that God made me with a mind that was built to form an ego.

This ego is the primary way people interface with each other . Sure, we can all sit in a circle and experience each other “being”. We can stare into the faces of our sleeping children, or hold a loved one in a tender embrace, all without accessing the ego. But if you want to get any “real world stuff” done, then you’re going to need an ego and it’s accompanying little story.

The way all these egos dance with each other across the planet is beautiful and the inspiration for this sort of interplay is nothing short of divine. We were fashioned to mix with one another in this way and it is good.

It is important to note that when we experience another being’s ego, we are not experiencing the other being. Just as when we shake hands with another, we are merely experiencing a small facet of the physical diamond, that may indeed reflect the brilliance that shines within, but it is not that brilliance.

When this fact is understood, when we understand that our ego is a good and natural part of our body, just like a hand or foot, then we can truly use it as a tool to display ourselves and to experience another being in a very unique and fascinating way.

When you hear another being talking, you are hearing ego. When you speak, you are speaking ego. And that is a desirable and wonderful thing. Your ego is not you and their ego is not them. The ego is a way that these seemingly disparate life energies can interact in a practical setting to achieve some concrete result in the world of form.

I think the most beauty can be found when a being, conscious of the fact that the ego is merely a tool, interacts with a being that isn’t. It provides all manner of opportunity for love and selfless giving as well as a forum for the nurturing forth and worship of the other egos inner brilliance.

But real bliss is found when two souls meet through the near transparent veil of consciousness.

The Games of life

So I made this story. Well not by myself. I had help. Much of it chosen, pre fab and tested for street cred. I have tweaked and chiseled this story for 47 years. I’ve worn it in too. It fits me like a glove. The stickers on the back of my car show the others who I am.

I’ve put a lot of work into it. The entire package, from fashion choice to a salad bar of opinions and beliefs, show everyone how well I’ve coped with existing in the unconscious world, which is situated somewhere between a rock and a hard place. I am the swiss army knife of answers to life’s questions.

How could anyone not like this wonderful creation? Hard to believe, I know, but it happens. Mostly I try to ignore the ones that have made a shitty job of their own story. But sometimes they end up as co-workers or my father in law. Then i have to stop ignoring them and raise the defcon a notch or two.

Then the games begin. Some civilized like, “conceptual chess”. Some not as civilized like, “You said that she said”. And everyone’s favorite, “ Is this just a game to you?”.

Sure, the answer is to leave all this behind and just “be”. Disconnect from the ego and the little story of me and be present, conscious, aware, in the now.

So you no longer associate your self with the story. But that story took a lot of time and effort to make and although it’s not perfect and it’s not actually real, it’s still pretty cool. And now everyone else is still playing the games, only now they’re playing, “Hey he’s left his sandcastle unattended, let’s flatten it.” Although I’m no longer playing, how can I watch them trample all over my lovely creation?

The creation of the little me

In the beginning there was a name. It was set upon a formless void, and it yearned with unrealized potential.

The world said, “Let there be light”, and there was light, and it shone down on the name, dividing it from the formless. Evening came and morning came: The first day.

Then the world said, “Let there be a dream and let this dream be all it could ever want.” It set this dream in the sky, out of it’s reach. It called the dream, “Fulfillment”. Evening came and morning came: The second day.

The world said, “Let there be a stage. Let it be the place where things happen. Let it have a past full of regret or halcyon days. Let it also have a future full of phantom possibilities. And the world saw that it was good.

The world said, “Let the stage produce all manner of consumer products and electronic devices”. And so it was. The stage produced all manner of Time Planners and flat screen televisions and portable music players in their several kinds. The world saw that it was good. Evening came and morning came: The third day.

The World said, “Let there be lights to highlight the many benefits and features of the consumer goods. Let the lights make them sparkle and gleam to mesmerize all who gaze upon them.” Evening came and morning came. The fourth day.


The world said, Let there be a firewall between the name and the other names so as to limit the possibility of open source and illegal file sharing. The world called this firewall, “the self”, and saw that it was good. The fifth day.

Then the World said, “Let the name have a story. Let it be a soap opera, peppered with advertisements for the consumer goods, and let it available for a short time only, while stocks last.” Evening came. The sixth day.

On the seventh day, the World rested from all the work it had done. It sat on it’s leather sofa to watch the show. It saw what it had done and called it good.

Southpark and Kathryn’s Father hates me!

How could I have been so naive? But I never saw it! I’m amazed!

For 15 years now I thought my father in law liked me, well kind of. But it turns out he hates me! Can’t stand me. ...My engine has stalled.

He is a Politically correct, Baby boomer, hippy loving, socialist voting, inclusive, Loving, nurturing type of guy. Unless of course, you’re not like him. Well, I’d better back up a bit. You can be different from him, as long as you are “weaker”, than him. Like a refugee or a retarded person, homeless or poor, Lesbian or gay ( even better if you are conflicted about it and vilified for it), or maybe even an Aborigin.. sorry indigenous Australian. Be any of these and David will Love you and worship you in your specialness.

But if you are an amazing fellow, with a stellar IQ, and happen to be married to his daughter and be “different” in a way that challenges his complacency. Nup, He’s fresh out of warm fuzzies for you pal. Oh! he is so conceited and complacent! His little clique of friends think that the sunshine emanates from his venerated posterior.

FAKER! TOURIST!

How do I attend family gatherings now? How do I attend them when I’m carrying this smoldering “Fuck you!, you mean, pompous old man.” wherever I go?

He is dead to me Kyle.

Larundel

Abandoned Mental Asylum in Melbourne Australia.


 

The Sleepers

I had a vision. It was about three years ago. Some would say it was a dream. Still others might call it a “Lucid dream”, but I know what it was.

I found myself in a lecture theatre. Everyone was there for a purpose and everyone had a seat, except for me. I was an interloper. I have no idea what brought me there or how I was able to continue to be there as I had the strongest of feelings that I was where I shouldn’t be.
There was a speaker, addressing the group, but I couldn’t hear him. It was like I was deaf, but only to his voice. I knew these people were special. I didn’t know why they were special, but I knew I wanted what they had. I had a strong sense that they were better than me.

I began to try to get the attention of some of the people around me. They ignored me. It was like I didn’t exist to them. I started to cry. Not tears of sadness or frustration, but the deliberate, contrived tears of a child who can only articulate, “I need”.

My tears went unacknowledged for the longest time, until, finally a woman got up and held me. She told me that this place was not yet for me ( and yes she did talk with the “not yet’s and you shall’s” that we only hear in fairy stories). I pleaded with such despair and passion that I can’t be sent back/away. I begged.

She thawed a little, but I was still acutely aware of the chasm of unconsciousness that separated us. She quietly said that, “Tokes will....” I still remember her message word for word, but she told me that I must never tell anyone what I had learned.

I understood that these people had a rule. “You don’t mess with the sleepers.” I was a sleeper.

Today, I doze on and off. And when I’m awake, I know not to mess with the sleepers. Sometimes I do mess with them and I’m ashamed of it. Recalling times when I have I felt like a cruel child pulling the wings off an insect. Ignorance, arrogance and pride in the new born mind of a child.

The conscious ones ( of whose number I am not part), will be examples to the sleeping. They will simply, be. As the sleepers begin to stir, they will look up and see their destiny.

Moving forwards

It’s nice to move forwards, progress, grow. It’s a wonderful thing and universal. There is even a strong tradition in literature exploring this theme. One tale that comes immediately to mind is the story of the search for the holy grail. A tale of a journey and a search for something valuable.

The part of the story that catches in my memory is the notion that a knight had to be pure of heart to succeed in his quest. There’s a basic truth there I feel.I have been thinking about that and how it relates to my own endeavours.

I have felt like I have been spinning my wheels often over the years when it comes to developing my art and creating products or starting business projects. I have often asked myself why, without any hope of a real answer. Until today.

I have many things that I do. My creativity takes me in many different directions and there’s always a want to make my ideas come to fruition. So often though, I can feel a wall between me and what I want to make happen. Not just obstacles, that can be dealt with and overcome, but a wall, barring me from going ahead.

Why? Today the answer came to me.

Many of the things that I choose to focus on are desires of the egoic me. Things that will gain me esteem, money or simply further the story of the little me. I thank God that these things fail or just stagnate. I need to be clear about what motivates my endeavours and push ahead only when I am sure the motives are healthy.

It seems each question answered offers another question. Some would say that is the way of the mind and they would be right. If I am using my mind as a tool, on a job it was designed for, then there is no problem. In fact this makes the process an elegant one.

Why do I want to do this thing?, whatever it is. This question can’t effectively be answered unless the question “Why would I want to do ANYTHING” is answered first.

The answer to that question, (although I don’t know the answer yet), I feel will be found in quiet consciousness. I don’t feel it can be arrived at by thinking about it too much. Although you can think about what is revealed in the silent spaces and gain insight.

What do I want to do? What am I called to do? Why would I want to do anything? These are questions for tomorrow.

Any pointers gratefully accepted :-)

Learning to whistle, learning to fly

Remember learning to whistle as a child?
An older brother or sister, maybe a parent tried to guide you to making the noise. But how to make a whistle happen is beyond words. It cannot be described, only pointed to with inadequate phrases like “kinda hold your mouth like THIS ok?”.

So you try to whistle and all you hear is rushing air. You maybe try so hard your head starts to spin from too much oxygen and you feel it will never happen. Perhaps you wonder how anyone worked out how to do this strange thing in the first place. It seems so alien.

You keep blowing air. It doesn’t seem like you are practising because practising suggests you are actually DOING the thing repeatedly to improve. But you’re not doing it, you’re just blowing air. There is a desire in you to be one who “whistles”, so on you go, blowing air. Till one time there is a quiet “tweet”. You pause and become giddy with the realization that you ARE going to make it. You too will be able to whistle like the other kids.

So it is with our spiritual growth. It seems so BIG and important. But it’s not.

I remember the feeling, but not the situation. It was years ago. I was in an argument, or to put it more accurately, someone was in an argument with me. They were saying things, implying things, that should have made my egoic self rise to battle, but no. I flew above the content like an eagle on a thermal current. I heard my voice saying, “ oh I see”, and “you make a good point” without my heart rate rising, no adrenaline, no connection with what was happening.

This was my first little “tweet”. It exists only as a memory now, and daily, I blow air, confident that one day I will fly again.

not ANOTHER journey!!

I really just want it all now. I don't want to have to watch videos of eastern mystics with funny names for the rest of my life. I don't want to become a hippy. I don't want to drink herbal tea.

I want to be present and live consciously in amongst the collective insanity. I choose that. How do I do it? Just tell me what to do and I'll do it immediately. No regrets, no second thoughts but PLEASE, no more mooji!

It's Bad, but that's good!

I am producing a small plastic article for a project I'm working on, so yesterday I went to a plastics fabrication company near me to get a quote.

Everything wend badly from the beginning. The receptionist was distracted while she was dealing with me. Then a sales representative came to meet me in the foyer, which is where the entire meeting took place. He didn't seem interested and the meeting was short. He was to get back to me today with a quote. It never arrived.

How do I feel about all this? Absolutely fine. I understand that I'm perhaps not meant to be producing this thing or at least, not with this company. No problems there. Yet I feel an urge to write to the managing director of the company to point out how shoddy my treatment was.

But I'm thankful for God directing me away from there for whatever reason, how then can I feel I want to set them straight over their customer service?

I is confused

Back to the toilet, is my one ambition :-)

That one moment in the bathroom. Now the entire focus of my days is getting back there.. and staying there. Why?

To tell the truth, the feeling I had in that moment wasn’t that great. No euphoria, no Angels’ choir. Actually it was more of a void, a nothing. There was no profound sense of peace and well being. Just that, for a moment, life had stopped bullying me. There was quiet, and there was nothing.

Feeling that moment so briefly, was like trying a new food, and spitting it out before the full lexicon of flavours could be experienced.

Why would I want to go back there, to that moment? Not because it was so good, but because unconsciousness is so unbearably bad.

I have a real sense that I need to be back there, that it’s somehow in my best interests to be there. So now I have stopped thinking so much. I sit for ages and nothing at all enters my mind. Am I back there? I don’t know.

I’m reminded of learning to sight read music. There is a time when one is not sure if one is really reading and playing the notes or if one has simply memorized the sequence of finger movements. If worry enters the student’s mind at that point, it is needless worry. The answer is to persist and as if by magic, one begins to truly read.

My first moment of consciousness

I remember the first time I felt the "Now". I was sitting on the toilet.

Oh Jesus, God why?
I look at the gold and brown seventies tiles, cold under my feet. Head in my hands I try to force tears. They come but I feel like a faker, and they don't last long. More like a wave of emotion than crying, with not even a solitary teary line on my cheek to punctuate my sadness.

How? How could I be here? Not, "here", in the bathroom, "here", but in this dreadful place. Such pain. My essence seems to be an amalgam of every tortured line from every country song that's ever been. "I AM country music", I sob. I HATE country music.

It's not really important what events brought me to that situation. Dog died, wife left, I really don't remember. There's been so much sadness. But I remember being there and I remember the sadness and dread I felt. And there, sitting alone on the toilet, I had a thought. It was an epiphany, though I didn't know it at the time.

"What problems do I have right here and now, alone in the toilet?"
"Why, none."

And there I sat for many moments prodding and poking at this curious notion. The cold tile walls and skylight seemed to vibrate in agreement. And then it was gone.

In hindsight I know that I thought, "Well that's all great, but I can't spend the rest of my life in the toilet."
But back then all I knew was the moment had gone.

I flushed and walked back to my misery.