Cold... so cold.

Well it feels like minus 25 out there tonight – actually it IS minus 25 out there with the wind chill. I thought I'd take this opportunity to post something appropriate. This is a half done (quarter done?) illustration I did of Mr. Freeze. I don't feel at all interested in finishing it, so what better way to dispose of it than to post it here.

The look on his face just about sums up my mood.

How could I have forgotten?

In regards to my last post, my wife reminded me that she says "Hi" to me all the time and not once has she forgotten my name. I would even go as far to say that if I didn't see my wife for 17 or 18 years, she would most likely remember my name no matter how fat, grey or wrinkly I got. Of course I'd have some serious 'splainin to do about my whereabouts for those 17 or 18 years.

But the reality is, I probably wouldn't last more than 17 or 18 hours without her.

Redemption

You may remember my earlier post about starting the new year off right, with one of my patented bouts of social awkwardness.

Well, today redemption was mine.

Once again I was making my way through the underground PATH system and thinking about doing a blog on my inner monologue of my travel that morning through said underground. I happened to turn my head to the left just in time to make eye contact with the same former high schooler I mentioned previously. This time the interaction went much smoother, although I think that was partly due to the fact that we were both being swept along in opposite directions by two opposing rivers of commuters.

She said "Hi" and called me by my name.

I said "Hi", and the rivers carried us away before I had a chance to muck things up further. Ahhh, the sweet satisfaction of a job well done.

I think I was most impressed that she remembered my name. Not because I am completely forgettable. It's just that on the very rare occasions when I do run in to someone that I peripherally knew in high school, I'm usually addressed by the name of either of my two life long pals. The person usually gets me right on the third try.

Hmm I should ask my pals if the same thing happens to them. Fellas, care to weigh in?

Anyway... today I'll bask in my small victory of not making an ass of myself again.

Tomorrow... well that's another day.

Ah've got blisters on me fingers!!!

Yep, me and John Lennon... blisters on our fingers, which is probably the only thing our guitar playing has in common.

My dear wife got me a gee-tar for Christmas. Had I asked for one? Nope! Do I love it? YES!!! Is it possible for someone with hot dogs for fingers to play the guitar with any kind of proficiency? I sure as hell hope so.

Actually I've been fiddling with it for about two weeks now and I feel like I get better and better all the time. Although I still have a long way to go to be considered a "terrible" guitar player, but I'll work up to it. Once I get there I'll shoot for "poor", then "barely adequate" and so on.

Learning an instrument as an adult is a bit of a cruel twist of fate. Generally by adulthood you have more patience, you're willing to practice without being nagged and can be satisfied with small steps in progress. The down side is that adults don't have the same ease of training the memory of their muscles, which comes in handy when both hands are doing two different things.

Practice makes perfect I guess, but I'll settle for "barely adequate".

Oh... and if you don't get the "blisters" remark I opened with, have a listen to Helter Skelter off the White Album.

I'm off to pluck and strum and fret.

Starting the new year off right...

... with a healthy dose of social awkwardness!

Before I get to that, I just have to explain that I haven't posted anything for 2 months because, well... I had nothing to say. But y'know, material just has a way of finding you.

Take this morning for instance.

On my way to work through the underground shopping labyrinth, I was remembering a conversation with my good buddy Chris (you may remember him from such posts as "jumbo can of mini ravioli"). He was chastising me for not posting anything on my blog in a while, so I was giving some thought to what I could put up here, when lo and behold I ran smack into my next post.

I had looked up from my mini brainstorm session and saw the face of someone familiar, someone I went to high school with. She caught my gaze, and I saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes (not sure if she remembered exactly who I was).

I smiled and said, "H-eyyyyyyyy!" and she said, "H-iiii?".

Her gloved left hand happened to be sticking out, and my left hand was free, so we did some oddball left-handed Bizarro world handshake. All of this was done while we kept walking in opposite directions from each other.

Then she stopped and I half turned and kept walking. I said "Gotta go" (actually I think it came out "guhg-o"). She looked at me puzzled and said "Oh you have to go?". I nodded and smiled, and kept going.

Awwwk-ward.

What the hell? I can be so socially inept at times. I'm surprised I ever got married.

In my defence though we we're both being swept along by rivers of opposing human traffic. And 20 years of catching up definitely demands a slightly more tranquil setting.

I think I'll wear a bag on my head in the underground tomorrow.

This is a chestnut

See those things up there? Those are chestnuts.

Twice in the span of one week, at 2 different stores (2 different chains in fact) I had run-ins with teenaged cashiers who had to ask me what the things in the plastic bag were.

Chestnuts.

I know they're usually available only at this time of year, so it's not something they see everyday, but c'mon... You work in a grocery store... your job is to know the food, take five minutes and look around... read the signs, if you can. I know it's "like so hard" to remember "like" everything, and "eww that stuff is like so gross."

Same thing happened two weeks ago with fennel. My stuff was being rung through and the girl at the next cash asked the customer what the thing in the plastic bag was. He said anise (technically you can call it that), then she asked my cashier who shrugged her shoulders... I told my cashier it was fennel, who then told the other cashier it was FUNNEL. No dear... a funnel is for something else... Not only do you not know what fennel is, but apparently you don't know what a funnel is used for.

It happens all the time... sweet potatoes, brussel sprouts, or any herb... if it doesn't come in a box with a UPC on it, a teenaged cashier is completely stymied.

Somebody give these kids some damn produce, before I'm forced to smack one of them in the head. Forget it... they deserve a smack in the head just for being sullen.

Harumph!!!

And... I'm back.

I just haven't been feeling the urge to write or post anything on here lately. Nothing much to say and I certainly have not done anything creative with a pencil for quite a while.

But the urge is back... at least for today.

Our story opens as I travel north along Bronte Road to my home, my wife and my dinner. But wait! What's this? What's lying in the middle of the intersection of Bronte and the QEW on-ramp? Why it looks like a giant cylinder... can barely make it out. Wait.. getting clearer... yes I believe it is a sod flattener. A giant weighted metal roller used to flatten freshly laid sod. Quite a dangerous object to be laying in the middle of the intersection.

The scene it set.

The police station is conveniently located about 150 metres from that intersection. I decide to zip in and let them know about it so it can be removed before it gets too dark and hard to see. Let's pick up our little play from here.

ESS (that's me) approaches the desk where a policeman sits puzzling over a crossword puzzle. ESS waits for acknowledgement. And waits.

The policeman (let's call him Constable Grouchy) slowly looks up at ESS and drawls "Can I help you?" in a slightly annoyed tone.

ESS: Hi, yeah I just noticed a sod roller lying in the intersection of Bronte and the QEW.

CONSTABLE GROUCHY: Southbound?

ESS: Well it is sort of in the middle of the intersection.

CONSTABLE GROUCHY: NO! The southbound ramp?

ESS: Uhhh?

CONSTABLE GROUCHY: IS IT NORTH OF THE QEW?!?

ESS: Yeah yeah north of the QEW.

CONSTABLE GROUCHY: Hold on! Thats OPP jurisdiction.

Constable Grouchy picks up the phone and suddenly his Grouchy persona melts. "Hello upstairs... We have a report of a steamroller in the middle of the interesection of Bronte and the QEW north of the bridge. Oh you have? oh ok great thanks." He hangs up the phone and with that Constable Sunshine disappears and old Grouchy returns.

CONSTABLE GROUCHY: The OPP already know about it and are taking care of it.

ESS: Oh ok thanks.

And..... scene.

WTF? Why was this guy acting like I did something wrong. And don't make me look like a jackass by saying there's a steamroller in the middle of an interesection. A steamroller and hand pushed sod roller are two very different things. I've been able to tell the difference since I was six.

I wasn't looking for medal or Commisioner Gordon to come down and say "Job well done Batman, you've saved our collective asses again!". But maybe a "Thanks" would have been nice or perhaps making an effort to not treat me like some kind of stupid little pest.

And this was only a minor incident... Is it any wonder why people don't want to talk to the police when they witness a crime? Don't bite the friggin' hand that feeds you.

I know quite often the police have a thankless job and they've been burned more than once by people not being truthful, but too bad... that's your job and you have to treat every member of the public as an individual and not as a collective of feeble minded morons.

Harrumph! Now I'm grouchy.

GONE FISHIN'

Be back later.

It's been a while

My posts of late have been somewhat shall we say... non existent. All apologies. It's just that I haven't had much to say, or felt like saying anything at all. Just couldn't muster the effort. But I may be coming out of it.

Part of that has to do with the 4 hours of Japanese Taiko and Samba drumming I did the other day. Extremely therapeutic. There is nothing like taking your frustrations out by repeatedly hitting something with a stick, and being encouraged to hit that something as hard as you can.

The whole drumming experience was part of a work related getaway day, and there was a general concensus that hitting drums was good, and that there should be more hitting of drums more often.

As well as being therapeutic, it was incredibly physical, especially the Japanese Taiko drumming. It's been two days and my biceps still hurt the good hurt. If you have the chance to do this in your area, I highly recommend it. It doesn't take alot to pick up the basics. We took our classes at the Royal Conservatory of Music here in Toronto, but I'm sure if you're in any big metropolis there are similar resources available.

Well, time for me to go, I hear the drums calling. But I'll be back soon.

Shit rolls down hill... and sometimes from the sky.

As I dragged my sorry ass to my car in the parking lot last night, I was assualted.

But the attacker wasn't human in nature. No... this attack came from the air. Yes that's right... I looked up in the sky to see not a plane, not Superman, but an ordinary bird.

SPLAT! Hot fresh birdshit on my collar. Cue canned studio laughter.

Apparently I can't win the lottery, or count on the healthcare system, or hope that the police might trouble themselves to respond to numerous calls about drunken teenagers smashing beer bottles, pissing and puking on my house... but I do have enough "luck" to be in the path of a seagull with the runs.

I've heard it said that being shit on by a bird is good luck. Well then Lady Luck, lay it on me. I could use some right about now.

Sex on Planet X

I can't explain it, but I'm on a real Bullwinkle kick. Maybe it's nostalgia. Maybe I finally understand it. I don't know. The fact is, I just can't get enough.

While watching an episode the other day I started looking in the backgrounds because... because, well I don't know. Anyhoo, I happened to notice a book with an interesting title on a bookshelf in one scene.

Now bear in mind, this is 1959 and a children's program. This little hidden gag wouldn't be out of place on the Simpsons or the Family Guy, but it defintiely wasn't the norm in '59.

See for yourself.

Odd, odder, and odder still.

Truly truly odd.

As I was walking back to the office, I was thinking about bringing in some of the photographs I've taken, and framing them in large frames. I thought about the one I shot of the kid leading a group of people in a Christmas carol at the Santa Claus parade a few years ago. And I thought about the shot the I posted in the entry below... and as I looked up from the sidewalk, the subject is standing right there in front of me. He had the hat on... he had the bag slung over his right shoulder and resting on his left hip, and on the middle finger of his right had was a big ass gold ring.

Now I realize that I am only a few blocks from where I shot that image last summer, but I had never seen this man before... or since. That is until now. And odder still is that my last post on here was of this guy.

A happy distraction... and I really needed one today. Maybe I'll post more photos.

Window Shopping in Chinatown

Which way do you think this guy is leaning... blonde? Or blonder?

A luke warm solution...

The new cartridge arrived yesterday for my leaky shower. I installed it (yes I remembered to turn the water off) in about 10 minutes... No drips... no drops... and all the luke warm water anyone could want.

I just don't have it in me to take it apart and adjust the setting so that we can have hot showers. That's a weekend job no doubt.

I wet my pants... Or... How not to fix a leaky tap.

I'm not the handiest man of the house that ever lived, but I figured I could hold my own against any ordinary Joe when it came to minor household repairs. Apparently... not so.

It was pointed out to me a week or two ago that the shower head in our bathroom was leaking. This past weekend I finally got around to taking a look at it. I started with the obvious and pulled off the whole shower head. Water was trickling out in a slow but constant stream. That meant the problem was not with the shower head.

I moved on to the shower knob, a great big faceted piece of finely crafted clear lucite. I had seen these taps removed before. you have to pry the facing off. No problem... had it off in a second.

"This'll be a cinch" I thought to myself.

Next came a couple of plastic and brass gears that regulate how far you can turn the knob. Got those off and the tiny little o-ring as well. I had a little trouble with the brass collar but eventually figured it out too. No obstacle was too big for me to overcome.

The next piece was in there pretty good, but I was confident I could pry it loose as well. I got my screwdriver in and started wedging the piece off. Just as I started to pull it out with my hand I got hit in the face (and chest and legs and crotch) with a firehose-like blast of water.

The moment it hit me I realized I had forgotten one minor detail. I hadn't shut the water off in the house.

Luckily it's an enclosed shower stall, so I shut the door before anything disasterous could happen. I ran down to the basement looking for the shut off. I was reasonably sure I was looking right at it, but I noticed it had a ground wire connected to it. Indecision hit me. I'd already made one mistake, but I wasn't ready to gamble on grabbing hold of some thing that may or may not be electrical in nature while soaking wet. After a little back and forth in my mind, I gambled and grabbed the handle and gave it a not so mighty twist. The water was shut off. Half an hour too late... but off nonetheless.

After finding what I thought was the problem and a quick trip to Home Depot, I fixed the tap. It no longer drips... instead it trickles a steady stream of water.

Drip drip drip... splash!

Hmmmm... maybe a little too primitive

I wanted to see how far I could go with abstracting things down to simpler forms... And who better to do that with, than the modern stone-age caveman we all know and love... Fred Flintstone.

It's just not working for me though. He looks like a child drew him. I do like the tie though, that's really working for me. The rest.. well let's just never speak of it again. Although... you never know I may just have another go at it.

We'll see.

The Dark Knight Returns

This is my take on Batman from Frank Miller's "The Dark Knight Returns" as done in my faux paper cut style. The image I used for reference had Robin in it, but as you can see I have not drawn her yet. Yes I said "her". If you want to know more about the Dark Knight Returns and why Robin is a girl, take a look at this.

Addendum: And because I can't leave well enough alone... I did version where he is lit from behind by the setting sun.

Bear naked... except for the hat and tie.

Am I big fan of Yogi Bear? No.
Am I bored? A little.

I'm getting the drawing bug again. I thought I'd continue on with the faux paper cut studies I did of Superman, Batman and the Flash, which you can find here and here.

I took it a little farther and allowed myself to use curved lines, but only on the background. Once I had the basic illo done, I took the whole thing into Photoshop and really saturated the colours to give the piece a soft backlit look.

The goal is to try and get primitive with the shapes and still capture the essence of the subject. I don't think I got primitive enough, but it's kind of hard when your image is something that has already been ecomomized in design.

Maybe I can get more primitive with Fred and Barney. Pun intended.

NOW MORE ART THAN BEFORE!

I had about 3 minutes on my hands while I waited for my computer to create a monster sized PDF today, so I picked up my newly sharpened pencil and sketched this (I added the colour in Photoshop while I waited for my next train). I bet if I practised I could get really good.

But alas I hate practising. I can't stand doing anything more than once. As a matter fact I have trouble even doing things just once.

Well, my train is a-comin' so I really should...

This used to be an art blog...

So here's some art. Mostly doodles I did while on the phone, because it's not enough for me to just focus on one thing. If I did that I wouldn't forget things or make mistakes and how interesting would things be then?