Apr 10, 2015



My art site is here:

My buddy Chad asked me to write again because he liked this site.  When I moved to LA two years ago, I knew no one.  I decided to go to school, acting school, and sure I became friends, with my first partner, then roommates with my second, but Chad and me, we seemed nothing alike.  And that's me being incredibly shallow.  Because he quickly made me realize one some weird level he was the only other guy who thought like me.  About art and will power and storytelling.  When I barely knew anyone he was my only friend who would cruise the long roads of LA at night and listen to music. And his whole family are just total sweethearts(his brother and me struggled to talk about the super massive, super confusing epic fantasy series, The Malayan Book Of The Fallen, but even we failed at explaining that..thing).   He is one of the best actors I've met and one of the funnest dudes around, and he's probably the most focused intelligent person I've met.  Since he reminded me to write again, getting me out of a slump for a second time(maybe more than that), here's his site: 

Last summer I needed a job and my buddy Glenda hooked me up.  Five days up at Lake Arrowhead doing sound for a horror movie.  I got paid, fed, and a bed.  And of course I had a great time hanging out and shooting and decorating and ducking blood spurts(I said it was a horror movie).  A met a bunch of new friends there.  Practically the whole cast and crew knew every Friday The Thirteenth movie off the top of their heads.  They really love that old style horror and it shows.  I always used to love the atmosphere of horror movies, especially eighties ones because I watched the late at night by myself on cable, hoping for scares(and nudity lets face it.  There wasn't even a fucking internet yet).  So actually being on a horror set, all dressed up like that was sort of fulfilling that experience.  Especially having to spend the night with scar mannequins everywhere, sometimes they were actually the main bad guy standing still between scenes scaring the shit out of us with that scary mask(he was a sweetheart in real life).  And yes there was a lot of cleavage.  

Anyway, here's a link to the website with a trailer:  http://www.allthroughthehousemovie.com

Game Of Thrones

I saw the first episode of the new season of Game Of Thrones a few minutes ago.  It's starting to get to some non book stuff which is different.  There were portions of the last season that were new(some white walker stuff) but most of it I knew well.  The Tyrion and Oberyn stuff was my favorite of all the books so I loved season four(which was half of book three).  I remember a lot of the stuff in the new episode from book four and some from book five, but there is definitely hints of some tangents from the books coming really soon.  I'm almost all right with the idea of the book and the tv shows to be different stories.  Whatever the case, I'm liking it so far.


Okay.  So Daredevil is fucking excellent.  It's what we comic readers see in our minds eye.  We don't see the dots of color as strictly dots of color, we translate them to more than just a few simple hues.  The static images move in our minds.  It's a different feeling from looking at a bunch of sequential photographs because your brain is doing more work translating the image to some strange form of reality in your own minds(not that photo comics don't work, they just usually do not).

Comic movies have long made the mistake of literally translating aspects of comics like garish colors or ridiculous costumes.  Batman Begins by Christopher Nolan helped start a new era of comic movies of a higher quality by doing the atmosphere literally, not the garish elements(that were really different based on artists, some like Brian Bolland drew nearly photorealistic Batman comics, so I don't want to demonize the comics as a whole).  We are not looking at these heroes and thinking smelly leotards and inseams and flop sweat.  We pretend thats not going on.  We pay attention to the scene, the action, the beauty of the art and the flow of all those boxes.  We never hear them talk yet we all have an idea what Batman sounds like regardless of any movie or tv show(I only saw the 1960s Batman as a kid, yet the one in the comic never sounded like Adam West in my head, or Michael Keaton, when that version came out).

Daredevil feels and looks like what we see in our minds.  Unlike the movie(and most comic adaptations), the cast gels together in a natural, slow way.  A status quo is set.  And thats important. It's the seeds of a tree.  The ones that become roots.  without this status quo, you have nothing to veer away from.  In the movie we get a friendship, a romance, and a villain.  And it all seems a little empty and fake.  Because it all needs to fit into 90 minutes.  The Daredevil tv show does not have this problem.  It's twelve hours.  All of it out at once on Netflix.  No need to quit because you don't want to wait another few months to find out what happens at the end of the season.  You can breeze on through and watch them all.

And with all that extra time, You'd expect fluff.  That soap opera, after the next commercial, watch the next episode bullshit that wastes your time on network tv.  Daredevil has next to no filler.  All those scenes build on each other and are useful to character development.  Not filling minutes or begging viewers to keep watching.  Its the all at once Netflix format.  It makes this show extra great.

The acting is great.  The Kingpin and his girl Vanessa's relationship is beautiful and scary.  Stick, Daredevil's mentor is fucking phenomenal.  Foggy and Karen are great, anchoring the show.  Matt is solid, somehow selling all this super hero stuff like it can really happen.  The fighting is realistic and brutal and great.  None of that Agents Of Shield patty cake bullshit for kids.  Hell, I think kids drink twice in this show without any moral lesson in sight.  It's a dark show.  But it is so filled with the joy of being a rich character in a rich world of stories. 

It is the definition of the term "earning it".  By the time Daredevil gets a real costume it feels like it is really earned.  But so does everything.  Just built and built, with so much more to tell, so why rush.  They don't. They do it right.  

Flesh And Blood(1985)

I saw this on cable when I was around eleven.  And it blew my fucking mind forever.  As in, it influenced my entertainment eating habits to their core.  I would have never read Game Of Thrones if a customer at the comic book store I worked at hadn't overheard me railing against fantasy books, and suggested that GOT might be my jam.  This was the mid nineties and the state of fantasy was a dumpster filled with old sea food.  So something different was needed.  I checked it out because I had exhausted my at the time obsession with science fiction(I had just read the best, too.  Hyperion, my favorite book, Use Of Weapons, the most confusing genius disturbing book, and Forever War, the best book about time dilation ever.  But what I wanted out of fantasy was not what was being advertised.  Mainly Tolkien derived, and at this point, beyond derivative and all the things people thought about fantasy.  What I wanted was gritty, realistic, and by that turn, sad, and not very magical.  Game Of Thrones was that.  But I was only looking for that because I had seen it in a movie once, and imagined it when I went to Europe.

And Flesh And Blood was the movie.  That's why I was obsessed with that sort of medieval realism.  Now it's old hat, but then it was the only one playing the game.

It is about a group of mercenaries traveling the countryside looking for anything, food, work, money, raping, pillaging, the whole horrible bit.  They are led by Rutger Hauer, from my favorite movie Blade Runner, the late great Brion James, also of Blade Runner and The Fifth Element, it even has the scarred nazi from Indiana Jones as a mercenary priest.  Also traveling through the country is a King looking to marry his son, the Prince, to a Princess, played by Jennifer Jason Leigh(who was in the original and amazing Hitcher with Rutger Hauer).  The Mercenaries, now betrayed by the kingdom run into the Princess, and some bad things happen and hard decision are made.  And yes, some Game Of Thrones kind of things happen.  Sex, sometimes not quite consensual, and either way, always kind of fucked up, many times sort of perverted and sexy is rampant in this movie.

I think this movie fucked my mind up.  I was just that age where sex was very appealing for the first time, and so was Jennifer Jason Leigh.  I mean one of the first scenes in the movie a maid seduces a knight to fuck him in the bushes to show the Princess what sex is.  Then they go up to a hill and find a   hanged man who has been dead for a while.  The maid tells the Princess that when a man is hanged, he releases his bowels and bladder and fruit.  That all seeps into the ground and makes mandrake root.  So they dig it up under the corpse and the maid tells the Princess that eating it will make you fall in true love with the next man she sees.  And of course that man is the Prince.  Romantic?  Sort of.  Then the mercenaries happen and love becomes very different.

The mercenaries then overtake a castle with the princess in tow.  It's all chaos and revelry.  And more sex.  They live it up.  Until the Prince arrives and lays siege to the castle to retrieve the Princess.  From there things get fucked up even more.

It was directed by Paul Verhoeven of Robocop, Total Recall, Starship Troopers, Basic Instinct, and Showgirls, all extreme movies in their own way.  Flesh And Blood is my favorite with Robocop coming up close, and Total Recall close behind that, but yeah I like the rest a little.  This whole movie has an overcast, muddy feel to it.  I mean that in a good way. You just know that time smelled like shit and no one ever cleaned or took showers(although there is of course a sexy bath scene in this).


I saw this movie this year.  I sort of wish I saw it as a kid.  I would have loved it.  Of Course it would have messed my brain up.  But as an adult, I love it anyway.  It is totally fucked up.  We need to get that right out of the way because this is not for the faint of heart, although it does have rather silly pre-CGI effects(doesn't bother me a bit because I watched plenty of movies before computer effects were everything).

I'm just going to mention the opening credits up front.  First off, the creepiest opening song ever plays, as unidentified slimy body parts slide over each other like flaps of snakes.  It's so creepy that you wonder if the rest of the movie will ever live up to whatever the fuck you just saw.  And it takes a while, but it sure does live up to it's weird promise.

This follows a high school kid and his fucked up rich family.  This all feels really eighties.  Almost after school special like.  Except every scene has some disturbing undercurrent.  But the main kids family is just weird rich robots the way they act.  And his sort of sexy sister is just fucking oblivious and weird.  The kid meets what has to be the hottest strange ass girl ever.  She is like the epitome of whatever Rico Suave would be into(I know this is going to sound wrong, but his taste in latino women would be really good, so this is somehow a compliment).  Between weird sister showers with body parts in the wrong places, and more weirder sex with more body parts in wrong places, the kids sister's stalker(huh) plays him a tape of the sister's debutante ball, which is the most disturbing hilarious dialogue.

Eventually the movie(spoiler for parts of the third act) gets to that coming out party.  And whoo boy does some crazy shit go down.  All the rich important people in town(Beverly Hills) come down and have something of a smorgasbord/orgy.  They call it the Shunt.  And one crazy old dude yells "I love the smell of the hunt!  And the taste of the Shunt!"  They then do some crazy gross eating/sucking/melting/merging orgy on this poor guy who for some reason has a very particular annoying face that makes you think it's creature effects the whole movie before you realize they only put creature effects on him at the end.

This all culminates in the funniest, grossest effect of the movie.  And then it just ends quaintly like it was any other Sunday afternoon.  The credits roll and they play an opera version of the creepy song at the beginning.

I've seen other movies with Brian Yuzna, the director.  This is his best(although he did work on Re-Animator and From Beyond, another favorite weird movie with similar fleshy effects).  It makes the whole allegory of the rich eating the poor into a more twisted reality than you'd think.

I somehow found it and saw it on Youtube.  I don't know how this avoided me my whole life, because I'm the kind of guy who worshipped Evil Dead , Dead/Alive, the Phantasm movies, and From Beyond.  I've never heard anyone mention it or anything.  But it's sort of a landmark for weird gory eighties movies.

Here's the whole movie:

Working on these

So.......from this point on I'm going to be name dropping like crazy.  I know it's lame and blah blah blah, but these stories don't work without a little context.  Oh, and I'm gonna talk from my id, so it will be dirty.  I mean no offense, it's just the thoughts that actually go in my head, not fact, not even opinions sometimes, just a momentary passing erata of random thoughts.  Usually dirty ones


I work in a trendy neighborhood.  I never quite knew what that meant.  Now I sort of know. There a great comedy club on the next block, an infamous "celebrity center" across the street, and the road next to the store goes up to the Hollywood sign.  I used to live on the west end of Hollywood boulevard   past all the crazy shit, but only by about three blocks.  This is a few blocks up from the busy part in the neighborhoods by the hills filled with rich people.  

I used to work way out in a nice quit suburb twenty miles east but because of my car situation I transferred to a closer store.  That happened to be the Hollywood one.  There are shitty parts of the job.  Then there is everything else.  Like the constant ocular onslaught of half naked pretty people.
I keep saying how much I like legs and  oh my god I am in heaven.  Sometimes I laugh to myself at how over the top it gets.  Of course I have moments that break my brain and make me stupid.  One woman thought her jogging shorts were not hiked up enough apparantly because I found myself looking up at a quarter buttcheek(and me with my weird fetish, I guess, for shorts that show a little butt cheeks, I'm not going back on that either, not ever) and that was the most graphic, wonderful, spiritual,  half chubb tastic, thiiiiiing, I just wanted to--and whoops I forgot how to work.  I just went stupid.  Like wondering what sequence of events has to take place to make a sandwich, because those asscheeks over there, and then wondering what a fucking sequence was.  Just dumb fucking head board stupid.  

And I thought that was transcendent for some reason.  I'd still try to work, but then those butt cheeks, just dangling there like Chinese store ducks from a window. Then I'd be back to the sandwich.  It's lettuce and spinach.  Spinish.  How do you spell spina--back to the butt cheeks.  This is what wrong with men.  I mean I still would have looked and liked it like pervert if the shorts were cut that way, regardless of how bad the cut of it would be, but no, it was that lazy, pulling up your wedgie, and just not giving a flying shit.  I mean she was hot and all, and they were great legs.  But come on, I couldn't fucking think. I was almost frustrated.  

Another time I was eating my lunch out front when this woman walked by me, again with the legs, and then she sort of bent over a little, and I'm like trying not to move my head to tilt it like a fucking cartoon character, so I never know.  I never know if that girl was wearing underwear or not.  Not because I'm a perv in this instance(wait how many instances are there), but because she is.  She was only wearing a man's flannel shirt and sandals.  That's it.  No bra.  No shorts.  Just a shirt.  Not even fully buttoned.  I mean that's almost beautiful in its laziness.

Another time I met one of the all time greats of comedy(The Ben Stiller Show, Mr. Show), and star of the spin off to Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, Bob Odenkirk. I actually saw him a bunch, but didn't talk to him.  Then one day I looked up and twenty feet away, was Odenkirk walking towards me.  And when that happens you look back because your like hey that's Bob Odenkirk, and then you look down all embarrassed, and promise you will be cool to yourself, but you gotta look because that's Bob Odenkirk.  And then he is ten feet closer still walking towards you, and still looking you straight in the eyes, determined.  It took me a second to realize when he spoke that he was ordering some food.  After he came back for it, he apologized for messing up something and so to break the tension I told him that The Clash Of The Titans with Mr. Show and Kids In The Hall was my favorite comedy concert. He put that show on and it wasn't on TV, so it was like an inside thing and he just brightened up and even told me some tidbits about future stuff that I won't say anything about because that was private.  But it was so cool to talk to a long time comedy idol about comedy.

Another time, my current favorite stand up act, Bill Burr was just standing there when I peaked up from behind the counter.  Do you know how disconcerting it is to be cleaning stuff on the floor and to come up three feet away from Bill Burr looking identical to everytime he has been on TV for the last few years, looking you straight in the eye. We didn't really talk, and I was just afraid of doing something weird and ending up in one of his acts.  

Another time I was walking to work and the only other guy on the sidewalk of this neighborhood was Giovanni Ribisi, an actor I love, just walkin on by.  I think that was my first day at this location.

Once it was late and I was alone and a beautiful woman came in.  I took a fancy and hit on her a little, she sort of hung around.  And then I realized, shit, This is some Nickelodeon or Disney girl from ten years ago isn't it.  She looked different because she was in her mid twenties, and I barely recognized her anyway because I hadn't watched those channels in more than twenty years.  And now she's like a fucking woman or something.  And she's got my ass hitting on her.  Anyway, she was sweet.

And that kind of stuff happens about once a work day.  Some times more than once.  Rocks stars, kids of older rock stars, movie stars, sports stars, models, directors, the mayor, all those people come in all the time.  I didn't even know this but some people just shop on an almost daily basis.  Lots of them famous.  It may only be a small ten percent that are famous.  But it's like if you went to high school with them.  You recognize them and then wonder how they've changed, and then wonder if you should acknowledge them at all.

Anyway, today(Tuesday), I saw two famous women I consider among the most beautiful in the world.  I know that sounds silly, but how many other fucking times do I run into super models and actresses I lust after the most?  So here I am telling of the day's events.  The tales that follows will enchant your lives beyond description.  So don't shit your pants in excitement, okay.  Because these two stories might just be totally mundane.

I was working and Teresa Palmer, my dream Australian, walked right by me.  And she looked like so fucking normal.  I don't mean that as an insult at all.  I mean that like, she was just a real girl, like a full human.  She was all human scale, with shoes and bags of groceries.  All of a sudden she was girlfriend sized.  And still hot as all hell thank you very much.

Later I was working the counter, and for some reason, like a break in the shit storm of customers that come in the early afternoon, no one was in the deli, and my co workers all went to lunch.  This is a busy place with a lot of workers, so it's a weird moment when it's quiet.  This woman walks towards my section, and even forty feet away, I almost have to say Holy Shit, because this woman is that striking. Then I thought, well, she's not gonna come over here to, and sweet holy shit she came right up.  And part of my visual cortex just did not fully absorb the light rays coming from her face.  Like my brain said, no she isn't really that pretty, no one can be, your seeing shit wrong.  I swear my eyes could not take it.

I should say right here, that somehow, I don't know how I did this, I had the least awkward conversation I've had with fine girls here.  I mean I've really tamped most awkward conversations way down.  And I guess the only thought I could have was how every man ever can't function around this woman, for real, not a joke, it's fucked up I know, but I'm talking every man is just fucking eye locked on her and stupid as fuck.  So I was like, I don't want to be the millionth trip on this poor girl, so I'll just be...I'll just be.  Not gonna hit on her.  Not gonna start any conversations about dumb shit.  Just hang out with the super model.  While I'm just doing my job.   No problem.  And weirdly, it wasn't.  I talked to her a little, told her my favorite salad, fed her, she bought the one I said I ate for lunch, and then I sent her on her way.  Off you go, lass.

But, when I looked at her.  Like directly at her like a dumbo looks at the sun.  I swear to god, when she looked directly at me, her face was scary perfect.  Like almost impossible.  But at least I understood that on some level.  No, it was when she turned her face a little.  It couldn't have been as simple as just cheekbones.  It was something else.  Like the planes of her face were beyond my artistic understanding.  Like her face worked on more dimensions than the human mind can comprehend.  This girl surpassed sexual obsession into becoming some sort of living artwork.  I'd seen this before.  At least subjectively.  Twice.  One I went out with for many years, and very likely formed my taste in women, and another I didn't.  It's something intangible that I need to draw it to capture it.  The soul of it.  And when I don't it just hurts.  But that's another story.

Who the fuck is this girl?  That's what I thought.  How the fuck do I know her?  I totally recognize her but I can't place the movie or tv show.  Could she be just another crazy hot girl who happens to look like someone famous?  But who?  And then it dawned on me that in reality there is no fucking way in hell there is anyone else walking around looking exactly like this.  And if there were they would be the only other person in the world.  Probably not even on the same continent.  And if they were they would explode like antimatter at the mere proximity of each other.  No, this girl is the only one that looks exactly like that. But what show, what movie, who the fuck is this?  Then I culled from the deep pockets of my memory a second long snippet of a girl turning, with sheets, maybe wings, yeah wings were involved.  Oh, wait a second.  This is the main girl from the Victoria Secrets Angels ads.  She was so striking she could engrain a seconds worth of footage into my brain.  I just googled and found her(it took a pico second to recognize her out of all of them).  It was Alessandra Ambrosia.

Anyway, she was cool and sweet and just wow.  All these stories without mentioning the french model that comes in and melts my brains and pushes my buttons by rolling her r's and just being holy shit. But that was another day.

It should be said that the girl I flirt with the most and sort of have a thing for is a normal beautiful golden haired girl who wears normal but classy clothes.  You like what you like.  I didn't fall in love with the super model, but aesthetically, yeah, she was something to behold, and yes, fellow men, of course I would.

You'd think, with everything I said, that I must be some horned out loon at work, but I found out second hand how I am.  There is a thing called a secret shopper.  It's like an undercover inspector who rates stores and employees.  I found out the next day when my boss told me, and other people were talking about it.  I got a hundred percent.  I totally thought it was a joke for about a whole day until I saw the report.   Guess I did good once.

No car, so I've been taking the train and walking to work.  I pass a few hundred hollywood stars.  I guess I walk the walk of fame to work.  Weird.  Then the Hollywood sign blares at me, on my walk up to the store.  Starting to get a little sentimental for it, seeing it almost everyday.  

I hope we never meet(in fact I dream of it)

There is one celebrity I like so much I almost hope she doesn't come in because I saw her once before she was famous and nearly fell in love at first sight.  When I saw her on a TV show once, for about, half a second literally, I fuckin taped it.  She wasn't on that episode(and everything without her was horrible) so I had to wait, then I saw her and I swear, if you've ever seen a dog watch tv, that's what she did to me, just sit down, attentive, and stare in bewilderment.  The one time I saw her, at San Diego Comicon, way back, she was dressed as Jessica Rabbit, with long red hair and a red dress and almost the purtiest eyes ever(tied at least).  I remember just looking at her like what in the fuck, how is everyone else going on with their lives.  I demand answers.  This woman is a fucking golden goddess and people are just shambling along with their petty little lives.  I don't give a shit if you never heard of Jessica Rabbit, look, look mother fucker, look!  Anyway, I did write about her many years ago and said I could paint her forever, which I only say about less than five people in the world.  

The worst almost run in was when I lived on Hollywood Blvd near a famous comic store.  I saw a month old store event.  It was her, posing for artist in cool costumes.  The most painful missed thing ever.  That would have been my literal dream come true.  Then she was around because Chris Hardwick was going out with her for a while.  We apparantly run in the same circles a little bit so I both dread and hope beyond hope I get to meet her one day. 


So I was broken-hearted.  For like a year.  Yep.  I'm dumb.  And really, it's over nothing.  not a relationship.  Just someone who doesn't want to know me.  Plenty of people in the world probably don't.  But for some reason it just hurt worse.

It's just me being overly sensitive.  Not like normal sensitive either.  More like just being hurt regardless of any sort of bad feelings(but of course maybe there are and again I'm just stupid).  I think I gave up on being rejected at some point, but that largely entailed me becoming introverted and alone.  I guess I just had enough of anyones judgement and retreated from it(into acting? See, I'm stupid).  And maybe even the slightest bit of reaching out was the only little tendril of hope/help/neediness I could extend.  But rightfully, who the fuck would want that in their life?

Which only reminds me what I already know.  Is that I kind of fucking suck.  I'm really good at a lot of things I love, and shitty at anything that anyone would want from me.  And just doodling alone or writing my little stories to show no one is really worthless of me all around.  In that sense.  I totally get it.  Do the things that other people like.  But I can't give a fuck.  I love plenty of big fun things.  I can't give them up because they're the only thing that keeps me going.  But doing it doesn't get me anywhere but alone.

That's the thoughts that juggle in my mind.  A wind tunnel of that.  Mainly from the past.  Because being honest, almost everyone here has been pretty good to me and I haven't had a horrible experience with anyone.  But since I lost my faith or trust in everyone it took me forever to even hear compliments.  And even today I still barely hear compliments.  They became meaningless without action in the past and that stuck with me.  I only acknowledge action.  Not words(which explains why I like forward girls).

But with all that I basically stayed in, except for work.  I figured if I was so fucking sensitive to nothing, then maybe I shouldn't talk to girls at all.  I wasn't interested in anyone anyway.  Aside from sexually.  But not in any girlfriend way.  I think I thought most would get in my way of doing the things I love.  Throughout  the few years I've lived in LA I started with no friends, then have a bunch, but don't hang out anymore.  I lost wanting to share.  I lost caring about communication.  I couldn't figure out who the fuck I'd want to talk to and why.  And of course I am a cornucopia of dumb pain, so again who'd want to know that shit.

I didn't really have any emotional connection with anyone.  I mean lucky fine ass girls keep showing up at my apartment otherwise I wouldn't have met anyone in my personal life.  But it's not like that's something I can depend on.

Yeah there is more to the story of that girl I met on my couch.  Long story, meaningless now, but I at one point got drunk with her friend on Thanksgiving.  And those are not the only fine girls to show up.  When our lease ended, my roommates left, but I didn't want to go, so I got new roommates(my roomie found them, which was awesome, since it totally wasn't her responsibility, she saved me a huge headache).  My new roommates were hanging out with my neighbors.  They had a friend visiting from the middle of the country somewhere.  And they East Coast drink.  Since it was the friend's last day staying at our place  I said I'd Eat Coast drink with them.  When dumb ass that I am, I drank with them the night before, did too many shots, and woke up hung over.  I did the whole work day about to throw up.  I couldn't believe when I got home at 9 I was still hung over.  And they were waiting for me with more drinks.  So I agreed to take one shot, but then I said I had to turn in an art commission I did for someone over the internet, and I'd have to be fairly sober for that.  So they mixed me some strong ass concoction of whisky or bourban with maybe coca cola(the memory may have lost some things).  I promised to sip at it to get started, but I worked on sending my digital files to the employer(my friend, and technically I wasn't drawing anything, just converting photoshop files, - defensive much).  It took about forty five minutes.  Or maybe that was the drink.  All I know was that I downed the drink, took a very big bong rip, watched about ten minutes of some shit on Netflix, then remembered I was supposed to hang out.  So I collected myself(made sure my dick wasn't showing) and went down stairs.  By the end of the stairs I realized that maybe my motor functions were not all they could be.  So I slowed it down through the living room, got a proper gait going, walking almost like an upright hominid, made it to the chair outside, fell into it, sighed and took in the air while the five other people standing out there kept talking.  I tuned in and looked at who was standing in front of me.  My neighbors, my male roommate, his buddy, and some crazy hot person I never seen before in my life.  And I was instantly sold.  Then I caught myself.  I said, wait a second, you can't just totally fall for someone like that.  She's probably going out with one of these other dudes.  Chances are super high.  So I resolved to ignore her.  Which is of course is when she says, "I met your cat."  I couldn't figure out how this fox met my cat, since me and him are like peas in a pod, but only people who meet Oliver talk about him like that so I knew she met him, but since he was sleeping in my room at the moment I was still confused.  Anyway, she turned out to not really know any of them, I showed her the commission I just finished and some Thought Balloon Man pages(I hopefully caught myself before I got too eager), and she then went home to her apartment across from mine(?!, that was the thought in my head).  And then I realized how much I drank and smoked and went back to bed. I can't wait till she meets Monkey(my adorable ferret).

And just now(a Monday) I just saw her again.  Of course all of this is because she became friends with my female roommate because they are both dancers.  And the fact she is red haired has nothing to do with it.  Although she is cartoonishly what I'd like(I mean that in the way that it's too many little things I'd like stacked up, like a confection).  Shit, maybe I do have a red head thing.  There's a girl who comes into my work with red headed chin length hair and blue almond eyes.  And I can remember her like crazy.

And then at work, I was platonic with my friend, who was half my age(which is smoking age, so we're still good).  But when she got a new job everyone who worked with me constantly asked me everything about her, and after a while I realized, oh, to them, I was her workplace boyfriend.  We got along great, and if she was five years older, or I was five years younger I think I would have been crazy for her, but even though we got along and we understood each other so well, I was too old for her, and she had things in life yet to do.  But our connection was effortless and she was my style of wild.  Wanted to be a go go dancer.  In some way I have her to thank because I was extremely introverted when we met, and she was extremely extroverted, so she was in my face about stuff and forced me to come out of my shell, just by being fun.  A really great girl.

So things have not been all awful.  I don't have a car.  I need a new job.  But life isn't hopeless.  And I promised myself to get out more and maybe even date.

All I want is a good life.  I want to have wonderful people in it who constantly enlighten and entertain me, and I want to do that back.  When I changed my life it was about making it as good as possible.  Meeting the people I truly love.  I got to shake hands with Moebius and show my comic pages to J. H. Williams.  When I had nothing and knew no one I at least got to meet and talk to my favorite people.  And aside from my job which is usually just casual talk, I've got to meet great people(and I'm not talking famous people only, most are just great friends of mine, who are also very talented individuals).  I make mistakes and maybe try to reach out to people who are not like me and do not understand or like the kind of person I am.  And half the time I think maybe they are right.  I want to never make that mistake again, never be hurt again, but I need to have a life, I need comfort or care.  I can't live in neglect.  You only die in it.

And the saddest part is the only sweet whisper of happiness I have, is that The Girl Across The Way said I was hilarious today.  My feelings are so cheap considering how small and fragile they are.  Like I said, dumb.


I did the painting up top for myself.  To be honest I may have had a little bit of a red head thing going on at the time.  I wanted to get that greasy sort of Frank Frazetta feel to the woman(every piece of art is sort of an experiment and a learning experience).  I ran into the woman who may or may not have inspired this.  I hadn't seen her in like a year.  I guess I got all growed up because  I was way more...something with her.


I filmed a short with a buddy from class and Taylor.  It was improved for the most part(although I had a blast writing the funniest lines for my scene partner to say about my character, "his career like a corpse lying on the beach bloating in the sun.  A cadaverous heart, this former child star" all said in a broken german accent).  I wanted some footage of me with long hair to cut from since I look different in different scenes because they take place at different times.

I'm really trying to finish these scripts, but I've been struggling with motivation this last year.  It's four scripts.  Scenes, or short films, depending on how they are presented, from that movie I wanted to make.  I play the same character.  In one I am mugged and reference a bunch of my old movies.  Another is an emotional scene between my character and how tv show dad who is like a surrogate father to him.  And the one we filmed a part of(but not nearly enough)is about German documentarian who is doing a court ordered doc on my character.  And the last is a funny, not what you think, bunch of scenes of my character and his girlfriend getting caught by the paparazzi in a big scheme.

I hope to work on them soon.


I started drawing the next issue of my Science fiction comic.  So the two pages of the second thirty page issue.  I'm pretty proud of it.  I learned a lot the first go through and draw with more certainty and less effort to achieve stronger, even more detailed pictures.  The storytelling gets really fun in this one, and I get to introduce half of the supporting cast of crazies.

A little while ago I showed a large sampling of my comics to writers of a comic I did a while back.  We never met in person, so this was a first time meeting, and because of that I brought a sampling of all my comics(Talented, which I did with them, Thought Balloon Man, Super Humanity, Red Sands, and others).  I went through all my intentions I try to hide in every page, all the eye flows, panel sizes, shapes, relation to other shapes.  Their comic was the first where I started just doing totally different panel arrangements.  I went crazier in Thought Balloon Man, but Talented had a weird sort of psychological bent to it that worked well with claustrophobic moving panel shapes.  Finally getting a chance to talk about that was really fun and inspiring.

Learning To Fly

All I can do is keep trying.  I'll try to be good.  I'll try to care again.  I'll try not to get broken.  I'll try to let myself get broken.  I'll try to stick around.  I'll try to get better.  I'll try.


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