Comics Online! Weird Strip # 654

Weird Comics Online

COMIC BOOK BLOGS DRAWINGS OF TREES

COMIC BOOKS BLOGS Drawings of TREES

Now that the weather is getting nice and hot and finally dry enough for some outdoor sketching I've been making my wayround the city getting some strange ideas down on paper. It's kind of like working the streets but a lot more introverted and a lot less stuff to carry. Got to love the hot summer for people watching, city watching and unusual inspirations... READ COMIC BOOKS ONLINE!

WHY THE UNIVERSE MUST END a not so WEIRD TALE

HEY APATHY! Weird Tales

I woke up a bit early this morning in hopes that the cafe I sit at had recovered my lost knapsack. It is the only place I went yesterday and they are often pretty good about returning articles that get left on their bench. No luck though I really hope that whoever got the bag ate my groceries and is using the brand new sack as opposed to savagely investigating it in hopes of finding money or drugs before tossing it in the garbage. Very likely the latter of the two scenarios.




So I had to abandon all hopes of retrieving my new backpack and artist's supplies (notice I'm reposting old drawings these days can't make any new ones) and got myself a coffee. The young girl behind the counter proudly announced that she was going to the WEED march today and my heart sank. If it was a march to support hemp products and medicinal usage I could get on board, but it isn’t, in all honesty it really isn’t but I’m not even going down those thought processes right now, I couldn’t handle it.



The bench is outside but is covered by an over-hang and heavily decorated with No-SMOKING signs in compliance with both the city's bylaw and common sense. There was only one seat left beside a fairly respectable looking and recognizably regular member of the community, probably between the age of 45 and 50, who sat there with his beatnik hat on backwards smoking.



I approached him politely as I prepared to take my seat and said "Excuse me sir, you are not supposed to smoke on the bench there are notices everywhere".



"I know" he replied continually smoking.



"I'm sorry I don't understand, does that mean I have to sit beside and inhale your cigarette smoke"



"I guess so," he responded bluntly puffing on the fag.



I sat down and as calmly as I could and continueed, "If you don't put that out or stand out on the walkway like everyone else I'm going to get the owner." For the record the owner of the cafe is a tough cookie, often referred to as the coffee Nazi a la Larry David, and is not fond of smokers because as odd as it may seem he is the one who will receive the $1000 fine if the officers catch people smoking on his property.



"Get the owner."



Was he trying to call my bluff?



I got up and went to get the owner. Now in all honestly I was rather upset and disrupted by the utter disrespect this individual showed me. I was a little shaky; I mean this was almost absurd except that it happens everyday. When I returned with the owner the man had fled the scene. He had certainly been through this before but for some reason had chosen confrontation over common sense. I read a page of my book without catching a single word before I was able to calm down enough to restart my day. Just another reason why the universe must end. ( at least writing it out feels fairly therapeutic though taking that cigarette a putting it out in his eye would have been a lot more fun).

Comic Book Art "In the Trenches

Last week's late webcomic. Drew the damn thing a week early but never lettered it, got busy, and well the dogs ate the aliens who stole my quill pens ... more comics soon

Comic Book Animation tests

HEY APATHY! Comic Book Art

The CITY OF GEARS! From a distance the city reveals itself as an ominous gear propelled by an endless sea of faceless denizens. Who are these people? What is the metropolis? And where do I fit in? The “City of Gears” 3d animation (test shown above) is the first digital installment my animated artworks. Working with graphic wizard Laurie Ronne, we have started to bring the ink drawings to life. I have been working simultaneously on a hand drawn stop-motion version of the Gear and the two finished artworks will be displayed as a diptych. One of the most interesting aspects of the two interconnected projects is the real time comparison between the differing processes.

The hand drawn animation is a time consuming and labor intensive activity involving thousands of hand made drawings and a sort of improvised approach and aesthetic. I do all of the work for these animations myself, giving me complete control over the output, though that also means total responsibility for all menial tasks.

The 3D process, from my perspective, is almost the total opposite to the hand drawn production. In this case the majority of my process involves conceptualizing and describing the movements/ideas to the artist, like a film director, with absolutely no hands on work. Laurie then takes my instructions into computer land, makes tests and consults me. It is also an extremely precise approach and aesthetic in which little room is left for improvisation. The frame rates and movements must be mathematically configured to the finest detail in order for Laurie to recreate what I see in my mind. In the meantime I go back to the drawing table and two things happen at once.

Not only are the two drastically different approaches to animation being developed congruently but they are also moving towards a cohesive juncture. By using the same image for both the hand drawn and 3D graphics compositions the two pieces introduce a public conversation between the past and the present while also expressing a shift in my own artistic progress and ultimate acceptance of technology. The amazing outcome of these experiments so far has led me to insurmountable and indescribable ideas, plans, even schemes for future artistic assaults…

Comic Book Art

HEY APATHY! Comic Book Art

Some artwork from the past 10 hours...I'm hungry

Weird Tales and Online Comics

Weird Tales & Comics Online 

A monstrous plant, an elevated city, the amorphous glob macroverse all merely precursors to the penultimate alien invasion!!! Read the 13 Stories, Forbidden tales of the impending apocalypse! Or at least enjoy the illustrations. I still haven’t edited the stories yet and things are pretty messy over there. Nevertheless it was necessary, as part of my new years website clean-up, to make some adjustments and take the stories out of the NEW WORKS section and give them a page of there own. As if I didn’t already have enough on my plate as it is. Well you just go wherever the inspiration takes you and I really enjoyed re-presenting these weird tales online over the past few days, plus I’m not one to leave things unfinished. Feeling a little bit of computer-burn out after hours of posting put was really digging the new calligraphy and illuminated text so I figured I’d share it here too. New WebcomicsTomorrow

Alternative Comic Book Drawings

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comic Book Drawings

Damn Toronto was cod today, but the sun stayed on strong enabling me to enjoy my morning coffee sitting on the bench outside.  My fingers barely even froze. Otherwise I spent the entire day (and possibly a few more hours still) slouched over the computer doing menial design tasks I neither enjoy nor am suited to or trained for in order to update my NEW WORKS page on the website. It has been almost six months since I’ve added anything other than the weekly webcomic and things go stale online really quick. So I’ve been scanning, resizing and adding titles to my 2011 output and should have the thing up and running within the next couple of days. The image posted above is of a Neuroborg, a telepathic avatar projection of the human psyche as it exists in our current technological age. The term “Neuroberg” is the name of the place where these strange electric astral citizens currently reside. It is going to be a part of the new new works page. More Comics



13 Stories, Forbidden Tales of the impending Apocalypse

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics

In even the most pessimistic of tales, therein lies the brilliance of hope. For the act of putting pen unto paper is expressively optimistic, presenting others an opportunity to grow. That being said, I made a goal for myself to create 13 short illustrated stories before this upcoming New Year. I’d no real intention towards developing such nasty and hopeless fables as I did, in fact I’d no inclination towards writing anything at all,  it just sort of happened. Having abandoned street art performances as a means of promotion/communication in favor of working online and with arts councils & committees, I discovered a sudden and urgent dependency on the written word (stumbling through these poorly conveyed thoughts it’s a wonder I’ve survived this long!).

At first this meant endless hours of essay writings attempting to explain myself and persuade investors or patrons to give me money. That got boring but I knew my writing needed a lot of work so I started making things up. I decided to practice writing the same way tht I approach the development of visual artworks and decided on a series of 13 stories which, theoretically, could be compiled as a print publication. The process then involved a lot of sketching, unedited writing done directly in this blog. After a while some of the stories sort of stuck with me so I’d proceed to do drawings and prepare them for the “online book”. I went through a number of my drafts this evening and think I’ve all the shorts sorted now. Very early this January I’m going to take a few days to edit the h—l out of them and post all the work in it’s intended  format. Inspired by the prospects of completing this little experiment I laid down a quick pen and ink illuminated text drawing and a couple of weird faces (above). The rest of my day was spent working on animation stills and thinking about the “City of Gears” cartoon show pitch.
Here's an index/blurbs of the 13 stories:

1) SEEDS A commercial traveler searches the world over for new and marketable anomalies. His investigation eventually leads to a tribal village hidden deep within the jungles of Africa. Here he learns of secret vegetations capable of unimaginable feats. The discovery may prove enormously profitable, but can these surreal vines be safely transplanted back in the City of Gears?


2) THE ELEVATED CITY A sociological imperative to exist beyond earths’s capabilities has driven the soil barren and left the air void and toxically malodorous. In our infinite brilliance, man has moved upwards, away from his mess, developing a new architecture sprawling heaven bound. Levels upon levels of strange apartment communities annihilate the skyline as the sun fades into myth and nature is a forgotten word.

3) A TALE OF TWO TREES As the all encompassing MAKINGLIFEPERFECT Corp. reaches new scientific heights, useless and manipulatively destructive lifestyles rein supreme. However the industrial success has attracted unexpected enemies. Hear the cries of nature for two trees have assimilated a mechanical foliage battle armor in order to survive these terrifying technological times!

4) A SHOPPING SPREE NIGHTMARE A Surreal shopping spree incites strange nightmare visions of an amorphous globular macroverse. Enthusiatically overwhelmed, an unsuspecting shopper engaged in a world of unobtainable satisfactions becomes psychically imprisoned in a sanatorium padded with buyer's remorse!

5) BRIDE OF THE WORKHORSE An unusually surreal comics adventure involving a genetically modified centaur romancing a artificially ameliorated runway model. Can the fated love affair consummate or will mechanical deviations consume the once illuminated passion? Another strange and unrealistic interpretation of the way things actually are.

6) SHADOWS A young artist experimenting with shadow and light accidentally unleashes insidious creatures of the night. Are these nightmarish forms a merely imaginary brushstrokes or has the painter depicted something far worse?


7) THE AMORPHOUS GLOB MACROVERSE An apparently insignificant opaque puddle spilt in the night malignantly mutates proceeding to commit horrific telepathic invasions. The irregular and intrusive messages sent from the glob, reveal the most damnable and unforgettable of all unwanted insights, agonies and revealing reflections.

8) FASHION SHOW NIGHTMARE A Fashion shoot turns monster as the latest trends reveal mutilated depravity, terrifying trims, and people turned inside out. A step by step must read for all young upstarts entering the fashion business!


9) DIARIES OF A DEAD MAN An excerpt from an anonymous diarist regarding an extraordinary and hallucinogenic experience as a devout atheist witnesses firsthand the power of the almighty. A frightening account of religious awakening and the prowess of true faith.

10) NOTHING MATTERS An aging litterateur reaches an inexplicable enlightenment through a life time of meditative studies. Having finally read all there is to read and written his dissertations, the man becomes ill and for the first time, realizes how lonely it actually is inside the old and extravagant library.

11) THE BRAIN WORM THING Following an exclusive invitation a skeptical consumer attend the unveiling of an intriguing new digital breakthrough. The MAKING TECH PERFECT company is introducing the worlds smallest, most advanced and intelligent, virtual serfing technology. But will this new device impress our disgruntled protagonist or simply turn out to be another scam.

12) ANDROID MAN In the span of a few short weeks a successful landscape painter finds his business and his life going digital. With the aid of modern computers the artist rises to fame and fortune discovering, piece by piece, that he no longer needs his paints or even the landscapes he once rendered.

13) AFTER THE HARVEST Surreal Aliens invade earth only to question whether or not our planet is fit for assimilation! What will these beings make of mankind and what are their diabolical plans for earth’s future? Beware, these extraterrestrial vegetations having been plotting for millennia from way-outer space to the skyscraper skylines of our monstrous metropolis!

Just made this as a personal checklist but it's kind of interesting so why not share. I didn't actually "finish" all these but I do have at least solid 1st drafts and artwork  for every one. A few of them have been polished but I am happy that I got 13 of them done, I've had so many more important ( less amusing/ more lucrative) things to do over the past 10 months. Lot's of editing and more than likely a few new fables before I try to put the whole thing together proper like. See more work Heyapathy!

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

Eyes in the Sky - Diaries of a Dead Man

HEY APATHY! Pen & InkDrawings

Though my limbs continue to sway, it is only the conglomeration of larvae and vermin scurrying beneath my flesh which keep this body in motion. Once a young and hope filled enthusiast, I threw myself into a world of optimistic activism. In this world every action, thought and deed was designed to satisfy an overwhelming concern and impulsive revolt which had permeated throughout my logic. I couldn’t understand existence but could see how a few simple changes, like a strategic twist of a rubix’s cube, would bring the whole thing together. So I fought the good fight in every respect. From the simplest of gestures to the most elaborate of affairs every move I ever made was a plea for change and an educated attempt to incite such occurrences.


For years my struggles went unimpeded. Each new season brought new success and the movement I’d become a part of grew stronger. Although at this point I see little reason in preaching of the various methods and means through which we’d achieved such successes, I will mention that the numerous enterprises involved had assimilated many of the techniques invented by our consumerist opponents. We had discovered a means of production and promotion equally as profitable yet completely void of all the manipulative and damaging aspects associated with commercial ventures. Absolutely no hazardous materials, inhumane labor conditions or corrosive advertising were ever implemented yet still our products flourished. As a result the project began to attract attention from a multitude of investor’s, producers, agents, Hollywood stars, writers and critics. A mainstream breakthrough was undoubtedly on our horizon. However time and again, the outside interests proved detrimental, forcing us to abandon seemingly endless avenues of opportunity to avoid the risk of turning into the very thing we despised.


All of this, of course, was to be expected and frustrated us little. We’d been fortunate enough to find smaller opportunities in abundance and were never truly tempted by manufactured success. Do not misunderstand this, for our mission depends on mass communication and every possibility was examined to the fullest. However at the first hint of corruption all negotiations ceased. It was through this process that we were able to discover many people in favorable positions who were not only willing to assist, but truly believed in the cause. So it stood that, around the winter of my fifth year in the organization, things were going according to both or plans and ambitions.


It was a late November evening that I decided to go for a stroll. I had completed a lucrative summer schedule and was nearly prepared for the upcoming winter event. This “event” through not necessarily crucial, was definitely a pinnacle accomplishment in the progression of my work. I was confident and pleased, knowing full well the potential advancements that this particular project might incite. It was by far the most intricate and intelligibly developed of all our attempts. I felt a plausibly invincible and had little fear of any complications. As I wandered the streets filled with decorative lights and shopping hordes, a sudden tingling inspiration struck me not unlike a mild euphoric shock. .All of the hairs on my neck stood up in attention as I stood on the walkway in unexplicable awe and excitement.




Now before I continue it is important to understand a little more about my personal beliefs. I am not a spiritual or religious person in any right. I do not believe in the supernatural, fate, unicorns, honest politicians, Santa Claus or pop music. In fact it has been a particular devotion to logic and reason which has propelled this mission to unfathomable heights. Yes, the things I have been striving for are not unlike those taught with such emptiness by people who claim to be godly (or in the service of deities by any other name). However those of us involved are motivated only by the world we live in, the quality of life and our children, not by any other worldly rewards or punishments.



So there I was a devout atheist, anti-spiritualist, ultimate-realist with little imagination for intangible apparitions, standing in the middle of a glistening windy metropolitan street. Struck by this inspiration, I looked up to the sky and impulsively posed a question unlike any I’d ever considered before. My thoughts ran as thus “If there is something out there watching over us, whatever you are, I wanted to say that this place is a real mess. I’ve done my best to fix things down here and well if you give me a voice I will use it to help.”




I didn’t have time to analyze the absurdity of my thoughts before the sky opened up strange above me. There, as if superimposed between the opaque clouds and glossy sky, appeared two giant red eyes. They were not those of a feline or serpent, but they were not human either. The eyes closed and faded instantly, almost as if I never saw them. Yet in that brief second the mocking glance had, like all eyes do everywhere, told me a story. The eyes were laughing and had said something like ‘boy have you got it wrong, this is not a world for those who’d help, this is the playground of evil. As long as you follow the subservient laws, you are destined to a life of suffering and torture.” I couldn’t hear, nor visualize the castrating cachinnation bellowed by the beast but believe me I felt it. Beyond embarrassment, beyond humiliation, beyond hope, it was like starring in the mirror only to realize that you don’t look anything like you did in any of your dreams or memories.




I tried to put the experience aside and thought very little of it at the time. Even to this day I believe the vision was nothing more than an idle thought which found it’s profanity in my excited exhaustion. Not even for a moment have I accepted the hallucination for anything more than that, yet something terrible has been growing inside me ever since that weird walk. At first it manifested quite slowly like some terribly acidic consumption easily mistakable as some physical ailment. However this repulsive hollowness thwarting my innards soon spread throughout my veins. The perpetually evolving sensation now inhibits my entire being.





A record snowstorm hit the city shortly after the aforementioned incident. This terrible storm hit hard annihilating our winter event. Not only did the snow shun our attendance and shut our doors, but an accident involving several of our transport trucks all but destroyed any hope quick recovery. The winter that followed was plagued by destitution and the mission failed to progress until late the next spring. By that time I was able to recoup to some extent, but had become restrictively ill after a long and poverty stricken winter.



To make matters worse another company moved in on our market, only they were not doing it right. Though they had plagiarized our public appearance and boasted our ideologies for promotional purposes, the competitors were still producing products in an unredeemable fashion. In essence they had staked a claim to all of our innovations but were in fact still selling cheap sweatshop plastics. Before long that company started exploiting the corporate and media relations we had been forced to reject. Within a matter of minutes they had risen to international acclaim using our titles and image whilst belittling all our ideals. Broken by fatigue and corrupted by a despairing stomach I began to lose initiative and shortly thereafter resigned from the revolt.





I’ve spent years now wandering and the world seems perpetually worse. All of the different old buildings are gone and the new ones appearing are organized. I can no longer stomach the sound of new music and even in starvation I can’t find anything of value to eat. Sometimes I muster enough energy to read, but here there is nothing that can rekindle my once passionate pursuits. No, despite all my efforts and foremost ideas, the wound inflicted upon me that November night was a fatal one. My life ended there and then. Still the maggots and rats push me about and around; feeding on meats and seasoned remorse, but do not let these movements fool you, I am merely a staggering carcass. These routines, my remains, all the ruins, are nothing except fitting, for this is truly the world of dead men.





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