xtinction agenda - final stretch

final graytones.  going to plug this fucker in gimp & see if i can turn it into colour, now

that'll do, pig, that'll do...

this india ink is a quarter century old

 

the typographical agenda: mea culpa, maxima typos

like how i keep forgetting xtinction agenda doesn't start with an "e"

 

anyway getting it laid out at last

inking xtinction - 1

Finalized linework except for the cover.  Still have to revise that.  Starting brush & tones today.

 Landed an interview tomorrow, too.  Good start to a good day.

inking stryfe - 3

fuck this galactus dildo motherfucker

 

pardon the ruckus & bring the motherfucking brushes

inking stryfe - 3

This phase could be called "sugaring Stryfe".

Because I am workin' to tidy those eyebrows, believe.

Bonus pod s/t:  Jordie Bellaire, talking 'Redlands' & her meteoric career in colouring.

inking stryfe - 1

 

Taking my sweet time now because I don't want to have to fix any fuckups on Stryfe's preposterous headgear.  Most of this drawing has been an effort to be faithful to the o.g. designs of these stupid-ass latterday x-villains, but on the subject of Stryfe's headdress, I dropped tabs & went off the reservation.

Do believe I've crafted the absolute dopiest version of that iconically idiotic helmet.

There's not much I credit Liefeld with, but when it comes to Stryfe?

He fer shure came up with a thang.

inking sinister - 2

 

finished face & filigree on sinister

 

*soundtrack* 

(the whole positioning of hands & groins thing, james t.,

that's what's known in the industry as the Corben Stance.

everything from being Oversexualized to All Hell to our team of olympic

class athletes landing backflips looking like they just shit theyselves)

inking sinister - 1

  

Gettin' my Silvestri on, part the first:

with bonus soundtrack:

 what I (k)inked the rest of the costume to

& how i am left feeling (jangly with success)

inking apocalypse: 3

Trash linework for trash characters.  Trying to take my stumbles in stride.

inking apocalypse: 1

You can tell I've never drawn this dumb character before.  But note w/ dim satisfaction that my hand remembers how to apply lines.  Got the shakes after ten minutes.  Prob'ly blood sugar.  Adjourning session for tonight.  I'll attack it again tomorrow.  Maybe start colouring as I go.  Still thinking that aspect out.

Was listening to the fresh ep. of Weird Studies as I worked.  Left off precisely here, as the hosts really delved into what it means to make marks on paper.  The physical process of it?  Dunno.  Listen & see if you pick up what I'm putting down...

Art is hard to talk about.  And frequently intimidating to experience.  Which honestly is why I got the shakes, as much as the lack of pie in my stomach.  Which I'm remedying now.  It's good to start again.  This is the first work I've begun since re-establishing my studio.  The lifelong project begins anew!

And this time?  I'm gonna fucking rule.

ALPHA FLIGHT vs. Howard the Duck's Severed Penis (NO)

 Maybe I should change the cover of the comic.

What does dominating the industry even mean anymore?

The zeitgeist is a dumpster on fire rolling down a hill.  The motto round these parts is 'Mea cultcha, mea minima cultcha.'

Thank fuck I've never had any interest in making anything involving superheroes.  I quite enjoy reading books that involve them.  But they've never been the sin qua non of the form, for me.  I grew up on trash Warren horror mags & 70s Heavy Metal magazine.  So there's bound to be some adolescent Art Comix spurt on here, and for any of that, I apologize in advance.  Not everything is gonna be gold.

On that note, I finally found all the advance sketch materials for DENIZEN and AZURE PANTRY, today.  Only took a few weeks of frenzied shuffling of paper & repeated flickthrus of spiralbound sketchbooks containing more tattered edgepieces than actual pages.  Had just started to become dispirited by the effort when everything turned up.  And what was I searching for, anyway?  Three pages of scrawl resembling Paul Pope's used tissues.  I'm that good.

PROMISELAND continues apace, scriptwise.  The project seems to be writing itself the way DENIZEN wrote itself: steering with one hand & the other out the window, the crumbled remains of a roach between forefinger & thumb, relishing the current as my brain careens toward intellectual extinction.

Have I mentioned I finally kicked my sole standing addiction?  Now that I live in the land of legal weed it's been over a week since I smoked any, and my lungs are reminding me why I softpedaled kicking for years.  The coughing fits rival the crankover complaints of a junkyard chevy vega on cinderblocks and then I expectorate objects that look like Warren Ellis's orgasms.  You're welcome!

"Why are you typing shit like that?"  Fuck you, it's 5am.  That's why.

Today I'll take a swipe at inking an olllld banner illo I promised the Xtinction Agenda, like over two years ago.  Because because because because.  Nothing ever occurs as promptly as promised by this optimistic nihilist.  But you knew that already.  Didn't you?

Closing this thing out with the final image of my beloved husbando and his best friend & I, on the day we left Atlanta.  Ayy Tee Ell just endured a presidential abortion on speed doing a stopover, now they're gearing up to get whipped by galeforce storms.  Thank Xaphan we left that place.  They had two major water main breaks last week and every other day I read about some luckless soul being filled with bullets.  It's incredible how everyone I knew in that shitburg warned me that Chicago was the worst of all worlds, when Atlanta was held together by nothing but graft & desperation.

Goodbye, Atlanta.  I never knew you, but I knew you in my blood.  From one abuse survivor to another?  Try voting in some actual humans for a change.