Saturday, December 20, 2008

Dancing With Myself

Above is the image gracing my 2008 year-end holiday card.

In 2007, I created a card featuring 2 dancers and the word "joyous" on the front. "Noel" was awaiting the recipient upon opening the card.

I liked the subject and the concept from 2007 so much, I decided to repeat the idea for this year's card, with a different image, of course.

I wanted to keep the colors warm and reddish, to reflect those we see this time of year. I wanted the image to say, "joyous," and play well with the energetic brushwork I planned on using.

Thanks so much to everyone who has taken the time to view this blog, whether you are a first-time viewer or a faithful follower. I'm looking forward to a positive 2009, and wish the same for you. You may always follow the year, as it unfolds, through this blog, as I update work every week or two, my website, and my monthly newsletter (please see the link to the right to sign-up).

I wish you all the best for a wonderful holiday season and a peaceful and prosperous 2009.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Bleed the Freak

Anger plus fear is a lethal combination, I've heard. Both, I'm sure, course through the veins of soldiers like the one on this page, every day and all over the world.

Bleed the Freak is a sample image, ultimately destined for my portfolio, at this point. However, I had some parameters for its completion.

The image needed to reflect a dramatic point of view. It also needed to be cold and unwelcoming. I have since added the flash of red, for warmth and added drama. Lastly, it needed to project emotion and tell a bit of a story.

Who is he? What's he reaching for? Where is he? Why is he in anguish?

These are questions a viewer can pose. They are also ones that the viewer can answer, or at least draw some plausible conclusions, based on the context.

I shot some photos and used the one I thought captured a good mix of emotion, shape, light, and composition.

I zoomed-in a bit more on the figure, than what I had shot, to make him further inescapable to the viewer. After the painting phase, I took the art to the computer, where I adjusted the local and global values, as well as the local color, bringing barely saturated teals to the clothing and helmet and the slightest bit of warmth to his skin tones.

To bring some rawness to the image, there needed to be more texture -- another layer or two of obscurity between your eyes and his. I wanted to make it less-clean.

Some radiating wood texture brought a carved look while aiding in an explosive feel, apropos to the subject. On top of it all, a spatter texture, I thought, brought a sense of debris and, obviously, blood -- also appropriate.

Illustrations like this harken to the amazingly well-crafted and complex, yet seemingly spontaneous work one can see in comics and graphic novels -- something that captivated many a young artist. It is a reminder of the pure magic of illustration.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Tickled Pink

Do you feel the red blaze lighting up your right eye socket? You surely know the feeling of your lips stretching around your dentist-clean teeth, and the strain in your throat as you release whatever sound makes you comfy in times of trial?

This image was created as a sample, for a particular purpose about which I will comment in a future post.

However, I am posting this image because it is not something often seen in my portfolio. And, for those that know me, this is not an emotion often associated with my name.

It was one of those juicy illustrations that has all the makings of an enjoyable experience at the drawing table (and computer).

"Create an illustration that is rich with emotion and drama. Make it something cold and cathartic, while you are at it."

Perfect.

I added the red, later on, to bring just a hint more emotion.

I'll admit, as I was creating it, I was in the midst of a marathon of illustrating, so I didn't fully appreciate the catharsis involved.

However, little did I know, circumstances would present themselves, later, that would allow much-needed catharsis through writing about it.

I'll just keep that to myself.

There is something powerful about channeling aggression through music, exercise, art, or whatever means does the trick for you.

At one time, I enjoyed all of the above activities as means to channel bottled-up hostility.

As an aside, I also enjoy driving...somewhat expediently...and aggressively (but responsibly, and timidly...oh who am I kidding). In an escalating fashion, throughout my driving life, I have purchased vehicles that cater to such nonsense. In another life, I might have been in a profession that allowed me to sit behind the wheel of an excruciatingly powerful machine designed for ridiculously dangerous speed.

But, today, the only ridiculous speed I engage in, is that which I offer my clients. (nice segue!)

You see, today, I can (with evidence, even) call myself an award-winning, professional illustrator who offers an above-and-beyond, dependable, and multi-faceted, client-centric service, built over years of diligence and conscientiousness, and targeted toward providing an (hopefully) outstanding product and wholehearted investment to your project, while representing you, your brand, and the reputation of your company, always, with the utmost care, commitment, and respect.

Please browse the rest of this blog and/or click over to my website (see link to your right), and drop me a line. I'd love to discuss your project -- large or small.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

Peak Oil

In 1956, M. King Hubbert proposed a peak oil production curve. It was and is a bell-shaped curve that shows the rising and peaking of oil production at the point where half of the earth's reserves are depleted, then sloping downward as further production is likely to begin a terminal decline -- marking the end of "cheap oil."

For the November/December 2008 issue of the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, I was asked to illustrate this concept.

I began by ideating -- immersing myself in images, sparking ideas, which I then jotted down in my sketchbook, sometimes accompanied by scratchy thumbnails. After amassing several pages worth of ideas, I whittled them down to my 10 or so favorites, and moved to a sketch phase.

Coming up with ideas is one thing, translating them to a visual form is another -- part of the craft of illustration.

I've been interested in symbolism and clichés, lately. Clichés are immediately recognizable, and sometimes it just takes a minor adjustment or looking at it from a slightly different perspective to turn a cliché into something unique and interesting.

Symbolism is something also universally recognized. How many stress dreams have you had? How many involve missing a final test? Maybe, you've also been naked.

Maybe, that's just me.

That's symbolism, nonetheless. It's a tool I like to explore whenever I can. Symbols are interesting in and of themselves, plus, they allow the viewer to bring their own interpretation to the illustration.

Sometimes, I will find reference, other times I will shoot my own. Sometimes I will construct models or purchase props in order to create the very best possible product I can -- after all, it's also about going above and beyond, right? Otherwise, why bother? Your clients are entrusting you to be just as invested in their product as they are.

So, after acquiring my reference, and compositing it all, digitally, into preliminary sketches, I will weed it down to about 4-6 sketches.













In this case, the client liked the oil wells (2nd sketch), but felt the image would better communicate the idea of peak oil by adding the graph, to emphasize the Hubbert curve created by the wells.

I think it adds to the composition.

This illustration happens to be one of my favorite pieces I've done for the Bulletin. I think it communicates the point, the color palette and value pattern work well together, the textures are nice, and the structure of the composition is interesting.

But, it's always the client who needs to think so.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Pleading Insanity

Here is an illustration created a few years ago for Phoenix Magazine. Unfortunately, as some jobs are, this one was killed for one reason or another. However, one of its results was this dark piece from my archives.

The story it accompanied had to do with prisoners and the potential abuse of the insanity plea. The client knew what they wanted, so it was just a matter of my translating their concept to the page.

As you see above, the intent was to depict a gruff-looking prisoner -- maybe qualified to plead insanity, maybe not -- with shadowy, dreamy figures flitting about, at least raising the possibility of the instability of his mind.

The textural quality of the charcoal on paper drawing lends itself to the cold mood and sense of uneasiness the client was looking to achieve. The harsh light, bisecting the guy's face, both creates drama and alludes to the decision between right and wrong (good and bad, light and dark) when it comes to the issue.

So, who is posing as the prisoner, you are probably asking. Since I tend to pose for my own illustrations, whenever possible, I can say, from the neck down, I am loosely represented.

But, as I'm such a non-threatening sort, my head just would not cut it.

Luckily, a friend, who taught a college-level life-drawing course at the time, happened to have a model who looked like he could have slipped through the barbed wire at the state facility.

It turns out he was a prince of a fellow, but had the mug of a prisoner...at least a prisoner in my illustration.

The end result worked out just perfectly.

Everyone was thrilled, which thrilled me, doubly.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

Carl Crawford of the Tampa Bay Rays

Carl Crawford, of the Tampa Bay Rays, World Series runners-up, was the last of a number of baseball players I painted for the 2008 MLB Masterpieces baseball card series for The Upper Deck Company.

I had posted an earlier illustration of Jim Thome, where I document my challenge of dealing with out-of-focus crowds. At this point in the series, I felt like I had hit my stride, and figured out the formula for such crowds. In this particular image, I cooled the crowd back with blues and violets to allow the warmth of the foreground to further pop forward.

This was a terrific assignment in which to participate. The original 8" x 10" paintings are sold to collectors, and reproduced for the baseball cards on a high-quality, linen-style card stock. I recently received the cards, and was very impressed with how they turned out. If you are an illustration enthusiast, and a baseball fan, you should do yourself a favor and check them out -- not just because I participated in the project, but because they are really cool collectible art pieces.

The excellent communication throughout the assignment was a measure to its success, in my eyes.

I am often contacted by students and beginning illustrators, seeking advice for starting their careers on the right path. Building strong communication skills is one such way.

When evaluating my working relationships, communication is at the very top of my criteria. How much value does an illustrator place in communication? How much value does an art director place in communication? Communication makes the world go around, and it certainly drives our profession. An assignment can be made or broken by the level of communication displayed on both sides.

As an illustrator, one of the most valuable commodities you can possess is the power of timely and thoughtful communication. In an era of email and non-personal contact, it can be endlessly frustrating for an art director to contact an artist. Making yourself available and going the extra mile to make it easy for an art director to contact you, is a first impression that will pay dividends on your reputation and separate your services from other equally talented artists.

My policy is to respond to all emails, if only to acknowledge their receipt. I feel it bridges the lines of communication, facilitates a smooth workflow, and is just a matter of professional courtesy. All positive and considerate actions will spill over to the quality of the resulting art, I believe.

Transparent and conscientious communication builds trust. Trust is the cornerstone of a creative professional's reputation. As illustrators, we have nothing if not our reputations, right?

As evidenced in the United States' recent presidential campaign, communication is a vitally powerful tool, and always reflects beyond the speaker or author. I absolutely believe this can be said for everyone who considers themself a professional -- political, creative, or otherwise. In my opinion, an aspiring creative professional will be miles ahead, in both fostering their own career, and in bolstering the reputation of their peers (and their industry), by choosing to do everything within his or her power to make conscientious communication not just an unending priority, but one of their most stellar attributes.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

The Sarah Palin Experience

Is Sarah Palin going rogue? Has she ever not been rogue? Isn't that the nature of mavericks?

This illustration was inspired by her latest rogue-like headlines combined with her tendency to, at least in weeks prior, perhaps be following a script, in both words and deeds -- like a puppet. I have also added a "wink" to the power of the story of her expensive wardrobe, with the glimmer in her earring.

While the face is composited from additional sources, her body comes from my own personal photographic reference. You see, I had the opportunity to attend a Sarah Palin rally. One week later, I had the opportunity to attend a Barack Obama rally.

What follows below is the recounting of my experiences at both.

Thursday October 23, 2008.

Clutching my Sarah Palin reference, I walk toward my studio to begin what I know will be one heckuva portrait of 1984's Miss Wasilla crown-holder and 2008's Republican candidate for Vice President of the United States. However, the phone, and its robo-call on the other end, interrupts my train of thought.

"Yello!?"

"Come and see Sarah Palin at Bass Pro Shops in Springfield, Missouri, tomorrow. Gates open at 9am."

How fortuitous and coincidental that I just happen to be in a Sarah frame-of-mind. Even though I'm a Barack Obama supporter, what good reason would I have to miss an opportunity to experience the spectacle that is a Sarah Palin rally? As a person who has found himself mainlining the political news for the past 2 years with an increasingly ravenous appetite, I would be doing a disservice to myself to miss out on such a tasty treat. My mind was made up.

At 6am, Friday morning, I wake to the radio station DJ telling me people have been camping in line to see Ms. Palin since 3:30am.

I'm out the door at 7am. The Ozark Mountains are especially picturesque this morning. Fog fills the valleys, the air is crisp, and the early-autumn sky is crystal clear and blue.

Shortly before 8am, my car is in park, and perfectly positioned between two yellow lines at the Bass Pro Shops parking lot, flanked on all sides by cars, vans, and trucks, many with bumper stickers screaming "McCain/Palin '08", with an occasional "Drill, Baby, Drill!" I could sense the heavy affection for Ms. Palin in the air.

The sunny, crisp day quickly turns to overcast. The brisk wind becomes a bone-chiller, as I come to the realization my light jacket over a t-shirt is not going to keep me comfortable.

I come upon 2 lines. One for ticket holders, and one for non-ticket holders. The rally was originally an invitation-only event. Supposedly, 4,000 tickets were sold out in short order, so the decision was made to move the rally to this larger public venue.

My line, for non-ticket holders, was already about 150 yards long, one hour before the gates were scheduled to open. The line eventually strung out several blocks.

The volunteers, wearing white t-shirts (over layers of clothing), screen-printed in red with "McCain/Palin," directed the steady stream of arriving people toward their proper line. Occasionally, a volunteer would walk by, informing us about the no signs policy -- some would be provided for us. Cameras were okay -- shoot as many photos as you'd like. And, they made sure we were all fired up to see Sarah!...Sarah!...Sarah! There was also a volunteer to see if line-standers would like to volunteer for the campaign -- work the phone banks, knock on doors, and so forth.

Then, there were the buttons. The first guy was selling for $5 per button.

"No, thanks," I said.

Luckily, I refused that guy, who was obviously trolling for suckers, since the next guy was selling for $3 each, and a discount for multiple buttons. Union-made, to-boot. What a deal!

"No, thanks," I said.

The buttons were printed with all sorts of slogans. Some were straight McCain/Palin, blue and white typeset badges, while others were more brash and all about Sarah -- usually with pink hearts, girl-power anthems, barracudas, pit bulls, lipstick, high heels, and even the stylishly-framed, glasses-wearing Vice Presidential hopeful.

Good Lord, it was cold. The wind would blow and erase all doubt, if someone had any. The lack of sun was the problem. 43 chilly, windy degrees fahrenheit, for what turned out to be five hours on my feet, with insufficient bundling, is bound to border on at least feeling cool-ish to even the heartiest of fellows. I asked myself, more than once, was it really worth it to see someone for whom I had no intention of voting? That's when my weight training experience kicked in and my somewhat-trained mind remembered how to endure beyond this minor discomfort. I would kick myself later, in warmer environs, for not sticking it out.

Aside from the air being thick with affection for Ms. Palin, it was also thick with neoconservativism, or at least some form of it. Subscribing to a "progressive" political agenda, I was apparently outnumbered. The people in front, behind, and just about everywhere I cared to look, reminded me, with enthusiastic conversations riddled with variations of the words, "socialism," or polite and not-so-polite ridicule of the smattering of sign-weilding protesters, this was McCain/Palin Country, or, at least, the McCain/Palin parking lot. I didn't want to get into a debate with anyone, and luckily I didn't. However, a reporter for the Springfield News-Leader, Missouri's third largest newspaper, just happened to approach the 65-year old, rain coat-clad woman in front of me, asking, "What brings you here?"

Looking out from under her hood, she launched into the popular talking points of the day. The family of multi-generational women behind me also had some thoughts on why they were here. Theirs were much more reasoned -- not against anyone, but rather for particular policies and how each thought the policies would best benefit their lives. Also, as women, Sarah provided many levels of inspiration to them, and their children.

While it would have made an interesting sidebar, I didn't offer my reasons for being there. I'm kind of kicking myself for not doing so.

Glacially, sometime between 9am and 10am, my line started moving. With my plastic American flag attached to a dowel rod that had been handed to me at some point, I inch forward, toward the gates, with the rest of my fellow non-ticket holders. Out come the contents of my pockets, as I step through the metal detector.

I'm clean.

Big and Rich is pumping through the huge concert speakers perched by the stage. The VIP section had bleacher seats directly next to the stage, which was set up "in-the-round."

"I'm Joe, too!" and "Sarah Barracuda" and "I (heart) Sarah," were three of the signs I spotted from the VIPs. Each was quaintly painted in red, blue, and pink on white cardboard -- certainly homemade by those holding them. However, my sources tell me even those signs were provided by the rally organizers. There were plenty of blue McCain/Palin signs. The crowd became a sea of blue during the applause moments as those signs rose and shook. Perhaps the most curious sign I saw was a white, handmade pig drawing, attached to a popsicle stick. The pig was wearing red lipstick and the wording read, "Can you hear me, now?"

I'm not the smartest guy, so I'm probably overlooking the obvious, but I still can't quite add that one up. Surely it's a reference to an unfortunate statement made by Mr. Obama during the early weeks of Ms. Palin's tenure as V.P. candidate. But, is that the best symbol of her candidacy? Is it a defiant symbol? Is it an ironic statement? I'll probably take those questions to my grave.

At this point, my focus turns to my job, which is shooting photographic reference. I park myself among the crowd -- about 35 yards from the podium with a face-on view of the speaker when she takes the stage. To my right is the press stand with photographers and news media personnel. To my left is a tent with organizers. Behind me is a growing crowd. By my estimate, it was maybe around 5,000 people. News reports estimated up to 20,000, but I would question that figure.

Pierce Arrow, a local band, sings a few songs to fire-up the crowd. Missouri's Republican candidate for Governor, Kenny Hulshof, acts as emcee, bringing down-ticket Republican candidates on-stage. Each gives a 5-minute spiel. Back comes the band to do a couple more songs. Then a couple more. It seems as if Sarah is hung up at the airport, so how about a couple more? "No," squeal a few of the impatient red-staters around me.

"Mama Judd is mad," Naomi Judd, one-half of the Judds, and introducer of Sarah, begins. Ms. Judd goes on to defend Sarah from the demonization she has perceived as taking place via the media. One thing was for sure. Mama Judd meant Sarah was only minutes from replacing her on the mic. The people around me were ready to get to the main attraction.

"There she is," remarked a father, on my immediate left, to the 4-year old sitting on his shoulders. After witnessing the angry mob-scenes on TV, I was expecting an eviscerating attack on the Democratic nominee. However, in my opinion, it was a fairly tame speech. There was no mention of "palling around with terrorists."

"Experimenting with socialism," and "spreading the wealth" were the buzz words of the day. It seemed like a well-orchestrated ceremonial event -- not meant to be substantive, but a forum to say some things, give the crowd a chance to cheer and boo at precise moments, and let people feel as if they might be leaving with more than they brought. She spoke well, was very charismatic, and came across as quite likable. She brought a rock star quality that people wanted to experience. I'll leave fact-checking to the non-illustration blogs.

Afterward, she descended the platform to the sounds of Shania Twain's, "She's Not Just a Pretty Face." Shaking hands and signing autographs with the crowd nearest her, she snaked her way around the stage, eventually exiting from where she came. The atmosphere was that of a celebrity walking the red carpet, with cameras hoisted above the crowd, following her every move. Also following her every move were the sharpshooters poised atop the nearby building. Faces all focused in her direction, craning their necks just hoping for a glimpse of her. I moved closer to the stage, investigating the area in hopes of maybe getting some more photos. James Brown belted out "Living in America," as I passed the speaker, which became the new home for my plastic American flag. I looked for a crowd opening in which to sneak.

No luck.

With low temperature-stiffened joints, I returned to my car around 2pm. I brought with me a first-hand experience of what is being analyzed by the best and brightest journalists, every day, in print, on TV, and in photographs and illustrations. My perspective is clearer, as, at least for this day, a piece of the political process was filtered through my mostly fair and often balanced eyes.