COMIC BOOK DRAWINGS and VIDEO GAME ART

HEY APATHY! That's me playing the new comic book drawing HEY APATHY! Video game at Nuit Blanche. Special thanks to the collaborative team of Michael Richards (programmer), Dan Morphy w/ Tor-Q (musicians) as well as Alice Dixon and the Urban Space gallery for the opportunity to show! THANKS ALL it was awesome! 

If only I needn't sleep, Alternative Comics and Animations in progress ...

HEY APATHY! Free Comics Online

Spent the better part of today working on the webcomic, probably the most fulfilling of all my chores. I I don’t know but there is something really fun and rewarding in creating panel to panel narrations. I also did a bit of work on the “Faces” ink drawings (above). These are just quick studies I’ve been doing when I haven’t got much time for other projects. This usually occurs in the time between meetings and at the end of the day when I want to wind down after concentrating on the bigger projects for extended durations. It is the end of one such duration that I am approaching now. Although I still have some scripting for the kids cartoon, and piles of hand-drawn animation to get done,  I am exhausted and am going to scribble only a little more before I call it a night.  MORE DRAWINGS 

The City of Gears Kids Comics and Cartoons

HEY APATHY! THE SERIES STARRING

Robots, Monsters, Superheroes and the City of Gears! A group of artists and musicians battle strange technological terrors in the City of Gears! I spent a few hours this evening working on these character studies for the imaginary television series. I did a quick concept sketch for this before Christmas and promised myself that I would work it up a bit after New Years. Well it’s already the sixth of January and I hadn’t found anytime for this yet, which resulted in a guilty little nagging voice acting out as a constant subconscious reminder of my unfulfilled commitment. I finally caved, boiled up some coffee a made the time I’d committed to, to work on the pitch. I made drawings of 5 of the 7 team members and did a lot of meditative orginazation of their origins and the story,. Anyways I’ve got some commission work, and appointments to do deal with tomorrow and I am so close to finishing a scene in the animation that I’ll probably won’t get to finish this roster ( and all the villains) until early next week.

Here’s a quick breakdown of the kids comic book characters shown above

1) Instructor Howie- art teacher, zen master

2) Timmy- young artist, tablet can project 4-dimensional avatars the Timmy draws on the screen

3) Argenta- computer witch can communicate and gets along with any electronic/digital/ artificial intelligence. In the City of Gears everything from the sewer system to the skyscrapers is automated, giving Argenta abilities surpassing the greatest of history’s sorcerers.

4) The Robot- a strange computer chip is corrupting peaceful robots. When Argenta discovers and removes the chip the Robot tells her that it not only had the device made him do bad things, it also made him feel bad. Thankful for his freedom the Robot re-programmed himself to join and protect Argenta and her friends.

5) The Flutist Gale- music instructor and majestic flutist whose notes conjure nature and whose music battles the machines….

That’s it for now, damn it 3:49 am and I have to be a train station tomorrow by 9! Good night. HEY APATHY! FREE WEBCOMICS

Surreal Artist FACES and BODIES

HEY APATHY! Surreal Artist Ink Drawings

Introducing the HEY APATHY! surreal “Face” pen and ink drawings, a series of disproportionate silhouetted metamorphosis’ depicting the transformation of man to machine and the telepathic ramifications of our artificial millennia. The images illustrate a strange comparison between the human psyche, the running teleplay behind ours eyes, and its detached relationship to our mechanical bodies of flesh and bone. The ballooned portraits reveal a dark omnipotent force meddled with an array of simultaneously emotional and technological features. The astral interpretations manifest themselves as large bleak forms hovering above and beyond the small vessels from which they originated. These separated bodies, though somewhat autonomous, perpetuate routine existence by means of mundane mannerisms and meaningless interactions with miniature electronic devices. “Faces” is an all new attempt to expose the modern man as neurological cyborg, who, though devoid of actual robotic body parts, exists entirely amidst a virtual construct.

NOTES ON MAKING THE INK DRAWINGS

These abnormal drawings of people represent the first body of fine artwork illustrations that I have worked on in over two years. The “Faces” are being produced through a creative process I tend to refer to as a “formula series” in which a restricted set of visual symbols, material, and techniques are repeatedly examined in order to develop a cohesive set of images. This is probably the most traditional approach to creating gallery works and one I used extensively from 2000-2008 prior to my increasing interest in comics and animation. There are several advantages as well as disadvantages to the “formula” approach as it offers an invaluable means of artistic exploration but often results in creative limitations and ultimately the commercial entrapment of the participating artist.

For the better portion of my career, leading up to the end of 2008, I utilized the aforementioned “formula” method to develop a series of large gallery installations. At that time I would decide on a particular theme, format, drawing tool and technique and proceed to experiment with multiple variations in a singular style. A good example of this can be seen in my 2004 works, “HARD RAIN”. In this collection I developed an unusual comic borders made of scratchy shapes, weird buildings, and ominous orifices. Within the strange borders I would then drawing little scenes of solitary chaos. The entire series featured over 300 illustrations all done using the same drawing technique, a large pen for borders and perpetually smaller pens for the comics themselves. By using a single approach I was able to masterfully explore all the possibilities of this particular visual vocabulary and eventually obtain a sort of meditative state while creating the works. Once the formula is achieved the artist no longer needs to struggle with his/her materials but may concentrate more fully on the ideas, messages and symbolic aspects instead. This meditative state of experimentation proves especially valuable when the formula involves minimal technical maneuvers and rapid production.

This manner of artistic processes proved especially useful during my live street art performances as I had little worry about my materials or approach and could give my full attention to interpreting the audience and determining the imagery accordingly. However it was also while working the streets that the formula style started to reveal several limitations. Starting from very simplistic visuals, each year I seemed to add more and more element to my drawings. This ultimately led to single bodies of work exploring multiple themes, characters, and narrations as opposed to one unified symbology. As time passed I started to bore with repetitious drawings and really wanted to produce work that moved through images, processes and concepts quickly rather than extensive studies of a particular theme.

At the end of 2008 I decided to forsake gallery style works and the “formula” method altogether in favor of producing comic books. Here I could weave my way in and out of themes, techniques and parables much faster as a comics page takes far less time to make than a large scale drawing. The comics also offered varied formats allowing for offshoots or impulsive changes in the creation that would not work well in a series of drawings. The comic can flash-black, change scenes or even intrude upon one another permitting, even necessitating the use of different techniques and approaches. In gallery works, the commercial representative tends to request a collection of replicated works at a marketable size and often similar to previously saleable images by the artist. This method of presentation can present infinite restrictions towards the artist’s whim and ability to progress.

Circumstances, mostly financial, put a hold on my intended devotion to comics and graphic novels last year as I was awarded some grant money to work on animations. In many ways this new direction appeared even more hampering than creating formula works as animation is the most repetitive and tedious of all artistic processes. Not only do cartoons require thousands of duplicate drawings but the production can leave ab artist working for weeks at a single scene of concept. Basically this turned out to be the exact opposite from what I’d planned for myself, nevertheless the opportunity to animate is certainly a rewarding one.

So it stood that I was trapped in one of the most extensive “formula” works of my life when all I wanted to do was dance through a barrage of surreal vignettes and strange dreamscapes. Well subconsciously all these creative desires started swelling and without realizing it I found my self, between hours at the animation stand, writing stories, sneaking in a weekly webcomic, and finally working on a new series of ink drawings. All of these little asides occurred naturally, without intent, and likely a result of the undeniable urge permeating throughout my existence.

I just started these new artworks a few days ago but was able to jump right into the meditative state, drawing freely and fluidly. I’m using two nib pens and a brush for flat washes. The works consist of a large tribal portrait and a small modern figure drawing. That pretty much the formula. The work seems far less restrictive after working in animation and the little non-formula-formula, in which one images is repeated and the other open-ended, allows for endless investigations. At any rate I plan to use this technique in small batches, 20 drawings maximum before attempting another new style. Though I’d grown weary of this way of drawing, I have found it useful again primarily because these quick studies can be produced with little set-up or effort and let me play around a bit after long hours of rigid animation work. Everything else I’m doing right now requires so much attention that whipping off a few creepy ink stains at the end of the day is proving rather relaxing and possibly even therapeutic. VISIT HEY APATHY!

Thirteen Stories, forbidden tales of the apocalypse

HEY APATHY! Independent Comics and Art

A plant has attacked a corporate office, a mad scientist and his twin assistants have set about replacing people of varied societal positions, a centaur is still chasing the supermodel, amorphous nightmares runs rampant through the streets and the city of gears spins on! The past year has been, well different, but it always is. One of the most significant of these “differences” has been my dedicated, though feeble, attempts at writing stories. As a street artist, 2004-2008, I had little use for the written word managing all my interactions verbally and with an experienced eye for unspoken communications. The streets are all about the eyes and body language which I would then perceive and create a verbal approach accordingly. Around the fall of 2009 I started building a website and all of a sudden there were none of these options forcing me to use the only means available for online communication, words.

I made a number of failed attempts at essays and descriptions for my site but found the work overwhelming, scattered and ultimately poor. I put that project on hold and started with something smaller, little blog blurbs, but on a daily basis. I made sure to do about 200 words everyday and started working with little structures. I’d do 100 words on the story in the art, and 100 on the story behind the processes. Soon the word count doubled, and while still not satisfied with the finished paragraphs, the ordeal slowly became easier and was soon a regular in my daily routines.

Prior to this it must have been 10 years and the only writing I’d done was papers for an art school. Nevertheless what choice did I have? On Tuesday April 12, I ran out of things to say and started making things up. At this time I’d never actually written, or properly considered writing, a stories with words. When I “write” graphic novels I do so directly with the ink on paper. They are basically composed like silent films and the dialogue/text are the last thing on my mind. Animations are made the same way, I just make it up as I go along. Telling the stories on the streets is again, entirely contradictory to the written version. For example I can change my choice of words on the spot depending on the demographic of the viewer. You can’t do that online or in printed text.

The process of making things up proved immediately gratifying. Although I have been putting a some efforts into producing drawings this year, my primary focus has been on developing new animations. These things take for ever and you don’t really get to think about the narrative developments because so much attention I required for every 2/22 seconds of the film. Basically in the same time it takes to illustrated a single panel artwork telling a world of stories, the animation might only get the characters from one scene to the next (if I draw fast). Knowing full well that I can’t make animations and comics at the same time, the written stories really fulfilled a need to produce ideas rapidly while engrossed in such a technical process.

So I decided to write 13 stories with illustrations to use on my site. I think there are 7 posted and few more hanging around the blog. I maybe only edited 2 of them properly but I won’t start inserting scolding coat hangers in the veins beneath my toenails if that doesn’t happen before the new year. If I can get all thirteen ideas into pages, I’ll be satisfied for now. I’d love to see the work published in a little black hardcover entitled “Thirteen Stories, forbidden tales of the apocalypse” or something like that.

WEEKLY WEBCOMICS

Toronto Artist

HEY APATHY! Toronto Artist

Getting ready for a long winter in the studio.

What a beautiful winter’s day for a stroll. The winds are blowing a white dust around. The ground is slippery and slushy but repeatedly painted white, as was I after ten minutes with a coffee on the corner bench. The computer says it is – 8 with 44 mph winds but it doesn’t really matter I made my way obtrusively through all my chores. These obstructions slowing my route had nothing whatsoever to do with the weather but merely mistakes and poor planning on the part of myself. I made way to the pet store to get crickets for my lizard forgetting of course that they are closed every Tuesday. Half way to the art store I remembered using up my supplies but realized at that moment I’d not brought enough money. I made my way home through the snow and back to for the supplies, another quick coffee and I was settled in the studio by three. I actually enjoyed the mild weather making the travels rather pleasant. I hate being cooped up no matter how productive it can be. At any rate yesterday my face froze in minutes and I couldn’t travel without a protective hood.

The rest of the afternoon was spent cleaning and organizing all my upcoming projects. Throughout the pleasant seasons I tend to carry very few supplies and travel around creating work. It is really keep track of my materials this way but obviously affects the kind of work I can produce. Now, as the freezing imprisonment approaches, I find myself working on multiple tasks and all the equipment gets scattered. Today was my third three hour session in three days of tidying and I’ve finally got all this stuff together. When you need a ruler or eraser, it is really convenient to know where it is.

The next few months are going to be divided between three primary tasks. The first is more animation. For this I use two pens, two brushes, a light table, one stack of 8.5 x 11” blank paper and another with finished drawings. Because of the magnitude of this project I have (now) a small area dedicated to this production. It is always set up so anytime I feel inclined I need only pick of the pen. The second endeavor is the ongoing weekly webcomic. For these drawings I use the same two pens and brushes but work on larger illustration board. I only do this once a week so I’ve got the boards and long rulers stored in a easily accessible and visible place. The third, and somewhat terrifying, winter project is working on the website. I cleaned out my computer and have all the hard copies, photographs and drawings ready by the scanner. Found piles of unlabelled cd/dvds to go through also. (The picture above is from one of the mystery discs) I’ve got a lot of rebuilding to do. A large portion of my site was built before I even knew what miniscule bits I now understand about the computer. Anyways it should look a bit better than it does now.

That’s enough about my boring life. Probably a little hyper from all the coffees today but I think this little ramble helped me sort out my own mind. Hopefully tomorrow will be consumed less by trivial duties and more with the new animations. In the meantime check out the HEYAPATHY! comics online.

Strange Stories - The Deceptive Window

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics & Art

My miniscule and angular apartment boasts no luxurious features and has only one small window overlooking the outside world. The window is exactly 2 feet 8 inches wide by 3 feet and 6 inches tall except for when it is not. Sometimes the window is much smaller though it has never been any larger than it appears. The varying size of the portal is however manageable and of little concern. The truly disconcerting qualities, the sensations of uneasiness and disorientation, are coming from the things I see on the other side.

The view is a clear and basic one, facing an empty skyline with few buildings or really anything at all. Oddly enough I am located in the heart of the big city, surrounded by corporate skyscrapers, condominiums, clubs, restaurants and malls, yet the placement and dimensions of the window have left me staring at an empty sky. There is however the top of a maple and a grouping of electric wires. At night the moon sits in the corner but the sun herself never passes me by. As such the scenery offers little more in it’s usefulness than a representation of seasons and possibly the weather.

The particular alignment of the buildings facade in conjunction with the sloped major road ways and metropolitan tower labyrinths has obscured not only my vision by the ability to listen too. With one of the few open passages amidst the entire urban landscape, the window sits directly in the center of a strange wind tunnel. The gusts travel to and from all ends of the city carrying unusual signals in uncertain waves. The sounds, combined with the rumbling from traffic below, sing through the apartment but bear no semblance to sense. It may sound like a massive parade going on but when I’d inspected, the street were all bare. Sometimes crystal clear conversations take place in this room and on other occasions I could’ve sworn my neighbors were partying excessively. Of course in each of these cases, the noisy culprits were only riding the winds.

Like the sonics it carries, the winds also move deceptively around. Often dancing with the tree just outside as well as stomping throughout my room. The patterns are so erratic that once with a swoosh I’d been blown off my chair. In another instant I battled with a pounding rainfall only to find a mere drizzle occurring outdoors. The opposite is also quite ordinary and days that appear still and beautiful turn out to be frozen by storms. Occasionally the window properly predicted the true conditions, but only often enough to keep me confused.

Even at this very moment things appear quite and the sun is shining. There is little noise and no winds blowing, even the tips of the tree are standing still. No, I won’t be fooled this time, I can see that misty stream of smoke. It is almost invisibly faded, yet most certainly there. That opaque smoke is from a furnace, and the speed with which it vanished must mean angry northern currents. I’ll stay here where it’s warm and cozy, but what if I’m wrong? What if it is s beautiful day? Maybe the streets are paved with music or spring blossoms and I am in here, trapped indoors? You never really can tell from this window. At least there is one thing certain in all this trickery and that is that the window always wins. No matter how I examine or analyze the situation, it incites in me an inspiration to get up, dressed, and outside to gaze firsthand into a world in which one never knows.

Don't forget your weekly dose of surreal art comics! New webcomics every week!

Alternative Comics Halloween Masks ...

Alternative Comics Online 

 WHEN THE MASKS COME OFF

It's almost time for all the witches,

wolves and creeps to show their faces.

With each rising and racing moon,

more and more people are revealed as ghastly ghouls,

Come the Sabbath, 

and all it's holy praises.

 Landing late in the week this year,

 the gathering has excuse to begin early,

so the streets are half transformed with fear

 and will be worse for the better in mourning.

 After a full and busy and proper life,

 suffocating behind masks,

we finally have a call to breath,

for the children have all crashed.

 Fallen from sweet toxins

they are all out like the light,

 so no one will be the wiser

when the masks come off tonight.

Also check out the latest WEEKLY WEBCOMICS! (which are not written in ryhme, sorry can't explain?) 

ALTERNATIVE COMICS ONLINE

HEY APATHY! Alternative Webcomics

A short comic following the dissolution and near instant replacement of an alcoholic hobo. Part of PHASE 1 The Replacements in which a series of unrelated peoples of varied societal positions are secretly and systematically replaced. New pages every Friday ( a little late posting here but I’m always on time over at heyapathy.com.

Haven’t been posting much stuff online lately kind of busy with some commissioned work and alas, it’s grant writing season again. That means I’ve got to hover over the keyboard excessively for hours of essay writings. I admit I enjoy the process when it goes smoothly, but me and words don’t always get along. Sometimes writing becomes a telepathic battle between what I’m trying to say and run on sentences, misused-nouns, the-the and other backwards, mixed up, and perverse ,misuses of grammar. Nightmares of a giant type face V or W threatens to stake it’s pointed extremities through me while I sleep. However I’ve no choice now but to dig in and give it it (just kidding) my best shot.

ALTERNATIVE COMICS New WEBCOMIC

HEY APATHY! Surreal Webcomic

This is page 2 of the new Surreal Webcomic I'm making over at HEYAPATHY. The series is set out as a bunch of one page weeklies that sift in and out of a bizarre and terrifying larger story arc. New oneiric experiments  every Friday ( or early Saturday Night).   

Alternative Comics

DRAWINGS


ANIMATIONS

I hace been learning to write some html by decoding the codes in the Edit HTML section of this blogger site, then using them to fix the HEY APATHY! homepage. Thus this weird assortment of unrelated text links and photos. I'm just going to leave this as is and call it a post.

ALTERNATIVE COMICS Surreal Monsters of Time

HEY APATHY! Surreal Comics

Today was a day of revelation. Often times in our lives we mark occasions with celebrations as a signifier of growth, change, existence or triumph. Although us westerner’s seldom openly attach the quest for satori to our festivities, like a first nations adolescent seeking a spirit guide our rituals also conjure new perspectives, thoughts and ideas. Does the newly appointed CEO not feel a surge of super-humanity following the announcement and subsequent round of drinks? Strangely enough though these ceremonies seem to have an equal tendency to resurrect feelings of despair as they do joy. Take for example the New Year’s Eve ceremony. While many look forward, shedding past misfortunes and breeding future prospect, other’s still are forced to wallow in shame for missed opportunities or paths mistakenly taken. As the ball drops lover’s mingle, entrepreneurs plot, children stay up late and a few of us who can’t take it anymore send the old year off the side of an unguarded bridge.

As the surface water breaks with a crescendo splash, one can only wonder if the party was actually so dull as to instigate the early exit. However, from what I have observed it is seldom the physical affair but rather the psychological implications regarding the celebrations which initiates despair. Of course there are many whose social anxieties and fear of coloured balloons have sent them over the edge ( Party Clowns seem also to be notorious in this fashion), but for the most part it is the comparative significance of judgement exemplified by a predetermined ideal lifestyle which brings about the darkness. That is to say that each festivity marks a certain stage in the subjects life whereas a certain number of specific achievements should have been accomplished. A two year old should talk, the eighteen year old should drive and the twenty seven year old must be wealthy.

These sorts of standardized expectations are intrinsically attached to almost any celebratory event, whether it be consciously or otherwise. Enter the more horrific of them all the dreaded birthday. On this lovely day several people get together to share stories, gifts, and marvel at the fact so and so hasn’t been hit by a bus yet as so many of us had anticipated. Here the victim of nature gets an entire day with which to grade his or hers success in life up to that point and in comparison to others who’ve lived as long and done well for themselves. At first these days appear joyous but as the years role by the weight of ones past failures begins to gain mass. And this is where I have found myself and unsettling revelations, today.

I was born on this very day at this exact moment 159 years ago. Obviously I’ve not lived my life accordingly as one, I’ve been alive far too long, two I am not yet showing my age, and three I never followed the rules known and accepted by society. No instead of following the regular treatments, my life has been entirely devoted to the pursuit of dreams. Not once, in all of those years did I compromise my hearts desires in order to achieve what most claim as success. I never studied anything I wasn’t interested in, I’ve never worked a job I didn’t want, and I have never succumbed to the mass systemic programming which passes for satisfaction in the guise of purchase. I have taken and extended all my of life to practice and perfect my dreams.

As rewarding as this may sound, it has also become of the most terrifying significance on this my 159th birthday. Despite all my dedication and devotion today I have finally accepted the final fact, these dreams will never come true. For all my hours in the studio I still cannot write a poem, sing a song , paint a picture or star in a movie. I’ve tried, lord knows I’ve tried, but in 159 years of attempts not a single success. Not even in private. In fact rarely did I ever see fit any of my “talents” to introduce them to the outside world. Not that I’ve ever cared about fame mind you, only in the perfection of the art. The attention could only be a resultant of exceptional work and never the goal itself. Perhaps therein lies my downfall? Regardless no matter how skilled I became a small voice in the back of my mind kept repeating “ you’re just not good enough”.

I never really listened to the voice nor assigned it’s criticism any merit before but today, today, my bliss has broken and my ignorance shattered. I’ve seen people rise and fall, and even rise again, over and over while, stubborn as I am, I kept practicing, hoping to someday live out my dreams. I don’t know why but today the dreams passed and I came to an intolerably monstrous revelation. It’s like for a long duration of my life all the people of importance were older than myself and I would one day grow to be one of them. There was potential in my youth. Now, and seemingly suddenly, I am over 125 years older than almost every person of note and have never done anything noteworthy, or at least I shunned to share any of it with the outside world.

So the deep dark revelation that has overwhelmed me as I stand on the edge of this unguarded bridge is age. Time has passed me by regardless of my decided inability to acknowledge it. Today I have a wrinkled forehead and tomorrow I will be dust. Today I am no one and tomorrow I’ll be even less. No stage, no band, no movies, no museums. There is nothing to be done about it though for I’ve tried everything I ever wanted to try. It simply didn’t work. 

more alternative comics

ALTERNATIVE COMICS Mad Science

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics

Another panel from the surreal comics slowly manifesting itself within the pages of my apparently innocent sketchbook. This one's about a twisted doctor, his two assistants and some terribly mutated experiments.

ALTERNATIVE COMICS Ornamental Talismans

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics

Most of the day was spent hovering over the light table and animation stand, although I still did some comics sketching in the park and finished these little ornamental talisman's designed for wrap around like on a mug or a biohazardous chemical waste cannister. From top to bottom the symbology is as follows; the machine as being, the black arts, the face of the metropolis, a surreal incident, and life and death in the city of gears.

ALTERNATIVE COMICS Technologically Natural Mutations

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics!

On the left two people can be seen growing and flourishing among the plants and foliage, peacefully moving through wondrous cycles. As a distorted reflection their counterparts lay entangled, dressed in suits, amidst a metallic cluster of technological tentacles. Each side embraces it’s unusual predicament yet in the center the two worlds collide with evolutionary results. The vines and computers meet head on, mixing and mutating into a strange new form. As the opposing developments amalgamate in bizarreness, one of the electric tentacles breaks free from the form. Swinging uncontrollably through the air around the newly conceived creation the wire persistently spews black liquids throughout the open sky. more at http://www.heyapathy-comics-art.com/

Alternative Comics Another day at the public office...

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics!

Just finished up another Toronto Outdoor Art Exhibition. The show was a bit slower than previous years as we lost Friday to rain, had to compete with the World Cup final and quite simply that tourists don’t come to T.O. anymore. Having said all that I still had a great time and met hundreds of people and nearly talked my head off. The highlight, as I mentioned yesterday, was meeting all the kids and it was nice to see people from Queen street and new faces as well. Oddly enough I only sold one painting but the comics, prints and t-shirts put me on par with the success of other years. I consider this a real accomplishment because it takes a lot of small sales to make the kind of money one get’s for original artwork, but in the end I did well and was really excited to be moving the books. Many people were really excited to get a copy of my third comic despite the fact they had already read the first two. Anyways the story that sticks out most in mind is my conversations with Braiden, one of the neighbourhood kids. Braiden used to come and see me at least once a week out on Queen street when I was still there regularly performing on the streets. I put him and his dad on the back cover page of HEY APATHY! Book Two and gave it to them a few weeks ago at the comic convention. He was really excited but had a small request. “Put me in a comic!” asked the little crazy kid. “You are in the comic” I replied and showed him the picture again and he said “ I know about that, but I want to be inside the comic!” I laughed but totally understood what he was saying and we spent about a half hour going through my sketchbook together. I love the public festivals and all the unique experiences but it’s back to work in the studio tomorrow and on with the animations… more at http://www.heyapathy-comics-art.com/

Alterantive Comics Toronto Outdoor Art Exhibition

Just got in from day two at the Toronto Outdoor Art Exhibition. The annual public festival takes place at Nathan Philips Square and features about 500 hundred artist’s from all over the world ( except this year there are only 400 due to a portion of the grounds being under construction). Yesterday morning I set up my portable gallery in the pouring rain and didn’t see much action the until late afternoon. Today’s weather however, was perfect and the open air festival was busy. I met hundreds of people, many new and many old acquaintances. The most inspiring of all were the countless encounters with those little monsters we call kids.

Basically I spent the whole afternoon freaking out parents when the youngsters wanted to visit my booth. All the parents see is some guy dressed in black with a whole bunch of scary pictures and the reaction is generally one of apprehension . It didn’t matter today because if anyone even glanced at a drawing I had them trapped. I kept jumping up from working to explain the creepy creatures. I’d share a few tales eventually winning the attention of both the adults and kids. When their eyes bug out at a punch line I get overwhelmed by a strange sensation and somehow life seems that much less intolerable.

The show brings in tourists (though not as many as it used to) and all sorts of all ages and all walks of life. I met people from Montreal, Spain and had fun explaining the weirdness to some Hungarians who spoke absolutely no English at all. I talked with lot’s of other artists as well as with three Torontonians who had been imprisoned during last weeks protest. Damn this weekend has been fun and I get to do it all again tomorrow. The only thing that sucked was the sushi bar closed by the time the show was over and now I am home, sunburnt, exhausted and making my self a crappy pasta dinner. more at http://www.heyapathy-comics-art.com/

ALTERNATIVE COMICS from outer space

ALTERNATIVE COMICS A Robotic Romance

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics

In this part of world, a strange as it is, there is little room for anomalies and everything is pretty much the same. All the houses are similar, the cars and the schools. And since the library only has online books now a days there is little left to remind us of the past. There is however one odd piece of land north about an hour drive through the suburbs from the city. Up there the whole landscape has been developed into homes with the bizarre exception of a few tiny acres. Surrounded on all sides by new homes and backyard fences sit’s a little farmland untouched and still used. An aging old man gets up every morning and works in the fields as though nothing has changed. He doesn’t care that all our food come from laboratories nor does he mind that he is able to produce very little. It seems that it is the habits and chores that he loves and has stuck to his calling for longer than I remember.

The man rarely leaves the grounds except for a Sunday mass and breakfast. Only a small convoy of trucks have ever entered which transport his goods to the hills. No developer, nor lawman, or even a guest was ever welcomed into his small private land. That is until recently. Lately the farmer has been seen relaxing a bit in the company of a young woman. Rumours have it they met at the diner after church. She was a charmer and apparently from a family of farmers so the old man was taken and took up a friend. Within weeks of her presence the farm started changing, the grasses grew longer and certain area’s turned unkempt. The farmer and the lady were seen more often in town and the eventual marriage came of little surprise.

After the wedding the farmer resumed his regular chores while his young wife seemed to scold him secretly and spent all her time on the phone. It was a hot sunny morning when the situation had escalated and the whole town had known of the newly weds incredible fight. Witness, and there were a lot of them given the houses around the farm, saw the women running across the fields yelling after the man as he near unconsciously ploughed. She was citing certain legal phrases no one else could understand and the farmer snapped out of his daze looking fearful and angry. That is when the accident occurred. His wife fell forwards and landed close to the plough which caught her hair violently shaking her about. When the farmer pulled her out there was no blood, nor bodily damage but her face had removed revealing a mechanical shell! The wife was made of metal and wires! Nothing more than a machine! Some of the witnesses claim that she even had electric tentacles under her false wig of human hair.

Nevertheless the couple have been in court ever since attempting to sort out the details of their inevitable divorce. It would appear that with out prenuptials the robot women is entitled to the farm though the farmer has taken up arms and refuses to finalize the divorce. At best he may win half the land but these proceedings get quite complicated and his case is a rather difficult one as the laws of robot right are still vague and open to interpretation. But for now the farm is quiet and still sitting in place. The farmer is tending his fields and the neighbourhood is watching curiously and wondering if the new houses destined to grow beside them will be bigger and better equipped than the ones they already own.

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