Wolfgang & Sons Archives

Tarry
Cut the groove to the lambskin bleating
Push
to the air ichor pulse made brine
Anchor
to the drone of a blithe heart beating
Hush
for the still where the cold strings bind

Copper
for the sinew, a lithe, dark thunder
Tin
for the bone, halcyon, blue, and bright
Willow
for the bough, bent to strike and sunder
Staid
is the hand that would quell its bite

Asher felt the air between his fingers and his feet
fingers and his feet
fingers and his feet

Asher told the ferryman to wait beneath the tree
wait beneath the tree
wait beneath the tree

A guilty premonition in his throat began to bleed
throat began to bleed
throat began to bleed

But Asher took the winding road beneath the oaken leaves
'neath the oaken leaves
'neath the oaken leaves

Where he followed
a wicked laughter from the road
There, the cold stream swallowed
his thoughts: they drifted from the fold

And below
I found my brother
lying in the snow
lying in the snow

Laden and cold
I found my brother
lying in the snow
lying in the snow

Oh, oh

Lo, I found my brother
lying in the snow
lying in the snow

Late lover
Ode for the weekend
Devilish tricks to believe in
Late lover
Oh, how deceiving
I-

Late lover
Hold to the feeling
String up my soul to the ceiling
Late lover
Oh, now we're even
I-

Late lover, loosen your cover
Late lover, I-
Late lover, I'll have no other
Late lover, I-

Late lover
Lost to the season
Echoing whispers that seep in
Late lover
Drawn to the beacon
I-

Late lover
Fragments so fleeting
Holding my breath just to steal them
Late lover
Slow while I'm grieving
I-

Late lover, loosen your cover
Late lover, I-
Late lover, I'll have no other
Late lover, I-

Long do you sleep
Your body lays cold and deep
And cruel memory
fades and eludes

But I'll take the seed
Encase it in melody
Lonely and sweet
I sing it to you

Late lover
Cold through the evening
Caught on a boat to Elysium
Late lover
Look back: it's treason
I-

Late lover
Low and in pieces
Bandages sop up the bleeding
Late lover
Whole, but I'm healing
I-

The shepherd has a job
like anyone else
There aren't many tasks
on his list

He doesn't need a
Post-It note to
remember what to do
before he goes home
Instead, he has one
task that he must
do always

He must be vigilant
and never stray
He must keep
the flock together

The housecat wants
to wander
Wants to see

Wants to hunt the lizard
that lives beneath
the threshold

like anyone else

The housecat needs not
affirmation from other housecats
The housecat also does not
need Post-It notes

But he does find them
amusing

Though they have chosen
different paths
the shepherd and the housecat
are similar

But even so

If a shepherd should find
that his job is to tend
to a herd of housecats

Compromise may be
off the table

Now begins and ends the verse
that folds back into now

Begins and ends, the verse that folds
back into now begins

And ends the verse that folds, back into
now begins and ends

The verse that folds back into now
begins and ends the verse

That folds back, into now begins
and ends the verse that folds

Back into now, begins and ends
the verse that folds back in

To now, begins and ends the verse
that folds back into now

(Begins and ends, the verse that folds
back into now begins)

I was still walking on eggshells when I visited Jill that evening. I’d never lost a family member, let alone a parent; so I hadn't really the means to understand her anguish. It was still fresh, too. We’d spoken since; enough for me to know the details. Still, she hadn't really broken yet. She was all cumulus-- with every cloud at capacity; but not a single drop on the pavement. Not yet.

“My car’s been acting up,” she said, idly. “A few of the engine mounts broke loose and it’s clanking about on the bumps and corners.” Jill tended to default to small talk, and I really couldn't blame her. Especially then.

“Hm,” I noted, agreeably. “Nothing particularly hot on the mounts. You can probably pin ‘em down with a few zip-ties.”

“Couldn't hurt.”

The air had a particular bite that winter. More rain than usual, and the cold was holding on well past its welcome. I noticed it as I stepped into the flat; I had held the door open a bit too long. I peeled a glove off with my teeth and took to another with my empty hand as I loosened my satchel and placed it on the end-table a bit too casually.

Jill’s flat was always dimly lit and uncomfortably cluttered. The furniture was rough oak, which looked almost like cherry in the pale yellow lamplight. It’s easy to admire a creature that prefers the flicker of a candle to electric light. A few books were piled on a plush red ottoman, under which a very lazy Samoyed convincingly pretended to be a bear-skin rug. This all seemed in place and in character. The keen preservation of the surroundings was in fact the very reason I noticed something out of place amidst the clutter.

It was a small green box: placed with intention beneath the hook where Jill kept her keys. I took a step towards it and adjusted my eyeglasses. “A puzzle?” I asked inquisitively, attempting to further the uncomfortable small-talk. “Don’t you hate puzzles?”

“Yeah,” she replied, with something of a quake in her voice. I made the connection, but it was too late. It was all coming down, now. “It was for Mom. I thought we could-- nevermind.” She stopped herself, overcome with embarrassment. “It’s stupid. Forget I said anything.”

I let out a small, stifled breath. Kath loved puzzles. Jill had wanted to work on it with her mother in her final days. But these affairs never seem to go as planned, and the puzzle remained on the little table by the door. I had a feeling it would stay there for some time.

The puzzle, for the record, was five hundred pieces; and its image was of a Basset Hound with his head cocked slightly to the left. Nothing special or interesting or beautiful. Just a stupid little dog, standing there. I don’t know why that image was so striking to me, but it never left. When I think of Kath, I think of that puzzle on the end table, Jill’s eyes welling up before the storm, and an ordinary Basset Hound.

I like to go fast. It's a personality kink, and
I'm certain my speeding tickets would agree.

Due to this, sometimes a key detail is missed
that is important to the big picture (get it?).

So I took the time this week to slow down
and rework my paneling and template.

I think it has a nice kick to it now,
like eating headless gummy bears.
(You know you like to do it too.
If you've never done, then I highly
recommend that you do. Right. Now.)

Ok. Good. Now that they're gone,
enjoy this special treat I made for you:



Make sure to cover the screen if they come back.

<3 Heather

A preacher friend recently paid me one of the highest compliments I've ever received.

You see- I get worried, and often, about the future.
That shouldn't be a revelation as I'm sure most people do it.

What I worry about in particular is the craze among artist communities that tends to break them apart:

"Gotta push, push, push.
Gotta make money, money, money.
Gotta be famous, famous, famous.
Gotta be the next big thing."

The problem is that I could care less.
I don't need to be the next big "thing."
I just want to make things.
I just want to help others make things.
This apparently makes me unusual in many circles.

Oh. So back to the compliment (I also get distracted easily. SQUIRREL!) He said something like:

"Stop worrying so much. The reason we like you is because you act with sincerity and integrity.
Keep that up and your glow will show them another way to be great."

That's what I love about The Wolfgang Family.
They also act with sincerity and integrity.
(And they make extremely kick butt things!)
Thank you for allowing me to be a footprint in y(our) tiny revolution.

Here is my first thing, a WIP for my next comic.



And my second thing, my very first comic.



Neither of these would have been made if it weren't for the inspiration drawn from Greengaard's recent Comic Camp.

<3 Heather

A linger in the outskirts of a sharp desert.
The wind blows flame.
The Guardian emerges.

Alright kids the time has come; the big finale..!!!

Hermes' Whisper


A couple weeks back you saw the original drawing; last week you saw the blocking in of the shadows and the covering of all of the original drawing's white of the paper. Now, this week's step is the completion of the painting; the addition of all of the opaque color.

In the commission world you have to do your very best to listen to the wants and desires of your client to bring their complete vision to life. You as the artist have the talent, and the skills, and maybe you whip up some awesome work of your own from time to time, but this time its a little different; your working on someone else's dream; you're saying: hey come on and jump inside my body and direct MY hands to do YOUR bidding, and sometimes it's a little weird.

This was not really one of those times though. The process has been very streamlined, and from what I can tell the client is very very happy with the final result (I sure am too).

Now it's time to package it up and send it out! The best part is when they see it for REAL, cuz in the art world the original is second to none.

Okie doke so last week you got to see the original drawing of my latest commission titled: Hermes' Whisper.

This week you get to see the first stage of how the drawing transforms into a completed painting.




The above shows what's known as the "under painting". The under painting's goal is to cover all of the white of the drawing, and blocks in, with translucent colors, the shapes of shadows to help establish the tonal value and demential atmosphere of the piece.

Next week is the addition of opaque color that really brings life to the piece. If today's post is the shadows, next weeks post would undoubtedly be the light.

Until then!

We here at Wolfgang and Sons are movers and shakers. There are a great many things that go on behind the scenes to change the way our world works.

We strive to give you the best stuff on the internet.

We strive to give it to you the best way possible.

We strive to get you your must needed fix of awesome content, but I must admit we (ahem... me) have sometimes faltered on that topic.

We are also new, and growing, and changing within ourselves for a better future.



Here is a tiny teaser of some visual art that has been going on that can be shared with the community.





It's called Hermes' Whisper and is a current commission that I've been working on, and is now in the process of being painted.

Hope you enjoy =^)

Happy Saturday =^D

The static is starting to get to me.

I have to keep the radio on. There's no other option. It's my only shot at reaching human contact. My last viable recourse.

I must have sent out that distress signal hundreds of times. Hundreds of times, repeating my call signature. Last known coordinates. Conditions. Rank. I've been stranded, and injured, and alone for days and my last words may be an attribution of the rank of junior officer. I can hear myself saying it, now. "This is Ensign Aaron Rhodes." That, and the static.

That, and the affirmation that nobody's listening. Hundreds of transmissions later, and it still breaks my heart every time I lower the receiver to my hip, and listen back to the low, electric hum of an empty sky.

I was wrong about the provisions. I've stretched three days' worth over at least a week. And I can go longer. But it won't last forever. I've thought about making a break several times. I could walk maybe twelve hours if I leave at night. But I can't seem to leave earshot of the radio. I can't wonder whether the response came as I scouted for higher ground. Whether I squandered my chance for survival because I left the radio. No. I can't take that chance. And so I'm bound to the radio. Bound to the noise.

The static hisses and whirs. As I sleep, my mind threads the noise into whispers; a thousand voices rising in the desert heat as I toss and turn and try to wake but cannot seem to rouse myself to answer. Paralyzed, helpless, I struggle toward the radio. The voices are louder, now. A chorus of wind. They're responding. They're asking for my coordinates.

I draw the dry air into my lungs with a shock, as though I'm remembering how to breathe. I look to the radio. Static. I let out a frustrated, pathetic sound as I drag myself to it. "Please," I say to it, as I reach for the receiver. "Hear me this time."

"This is Ensign Aaron Rhodes of the Algiers. Signature A3802. Please respond. The vessel has crash landed and I am the only survivor. I am unaware of either my coordinates or my exact circumstances. I am injured and dangerously low on provisions. Please. Find me."

If you're in publishing, the answer is no, you're not. Because you have to format your work to its final form. And, for the sake of wound-salting, it'll probably take as long as it took to actually make the art in the first place.

This happens to me constantly, in virtually all media formats. The worst was, of course, the first. Nostos was an absolute beast to format; largely because I wasn't taking proper consideration to the final product. Wilson was doing all the beautiful art, so I figured "done and done," right? Nope. A final product requires a modicum of craftsmanship, not just good art. For cards, the best way to pull the rug out from your craftsmanship is to do the template last; when you're all burned out and just want to be done. I'm lookin' at you, ART168 class at Penn State Behrend.

The template might actually be the most important part, all things considered. It's the first thing your audience sees and the last thing they should notice. It creates a context that must account for the piece as a whole, but still matches the aesthetic and intentionality of each individual piece. If I learned anything from Nostos, it's that the templates shouldn't be the last step, they should be the first. I'm going to illustrate this point with a template I made specifically to make this point:



A quick note: I did not make this template specifically to make this point, but wouldn't that have been cool? It's actually for my MFA portfolio, which I'm formatting as a deck of cards. Regardless, the considerations stand. I'll explain.

-The template is the thematic voice for the work encased within. It makes a case to the audience for why your work is a single entity, a card game, and not just a collection of cards. Used properly, you can drop context, theme, and overall aesthetic into a single piece. For my portfolio template, I'm going for a DIY/lo-fi feel while reminding everyone how much I love bulletin boards and random objects.

-You have to think about drift and bleed. You're not making .jpegs, you're making cards that people are going to hold in their hands. They'll most likely be laser-cut, and the lasers are going to miss by a few millimeters. Let the art bleed outside of the workspace and make sure it looks good while drifting a few millimeters in all eight directions.

-While the templates determine the look and feel of your game, they can't compromise the clarity of the artwork within. You can do bold, and you can do busy, but don't let your art and your template go to war. Also, I need to be able to read your game to play it, so consider a little subtle inside light or shadow on your text.

So, after 2000 headaches, that's what I learned about templates; and I'm passing the savings to you!

xoxo (CW) Alex

PS for ART168: I loved your projects, guys! You are extremely talented artists and designers and your game ideas are a delight to read.

He will make you buooshe blood all over your walls...

She will make it so you don't feel a thing...

They are villains...

Here is a random Randall ink drawing...
Wilson is about to paint it...
Project status:
_ _ _
In progress

Post early and often.
Right here

I LOVE looking at this painting!!!

Sentinel is an acrylic painting on 24"x30" canvas. It took about an hour to draw, and was painted in a single sitting that lasted about twelve hours, and it was awesome!

Fueled by inspiration from a new top favorite artist, Jon Foster, I really got to a great creative flow by letting go and let the brush strokes make all the awesome happen.

The past few paintings I've done have been quite successful, but I couldn't help feel as though they were too tight and rigid. With Sentinel I just kept swimming just kept swimming...ahem just kept painting... and made a point to make every brush stroke count, appreciating every one's own organic mark.

Thanks for enjoying!

P.S. (yes, it is a painting of Magneto ;^)

So I like cartoons. Nuff said.
-H

Here is project of love, which means: an art project that the artist, in this case me, did just for the sake of doing art. It's art from the purest of heart <3

This piece is about crossing the line.

It takes place on the surface of the sun. The sun is volatile and violent, but also provides our galaxy with light and heat and all kinds of other zainy particle waves that are essential for life here on Earth, as we humans in the third dimension, are aware of.

A strange anomaly has occurred from within the sun, and a demon is seen emerging bringing forth evil to the surface. This type of solar flare must be kept in check.

An aetheric angel has come to send the demon back from whence it came. Equipped with a vorpal sword the angel is about to stab the demon in the heart, however the demon so close to full emergence is on the brink of touching the angel with it tongue...



check out this awesome content throwback that has illusion to this very same subject matter..
HERE

She is here and in full acrylic slime.

See the name of this painting is Young Queen, but funny thing is: the painting isn't really about the queen at all.

Sure she wants to pounce on you, from atop that huge, huge egg sack, but she knows that is not the most ideal thing to do in moments like this; moments where you, the observer, find your self in the worst possible spot, in one of the worst possible senarios.

Really...

Mother wants her little darling to drop one of its happy little jelly beans down your mouth and gorge a xenomorph out your chest.

That's all, and remember...

Mother knows best.







Safe travels to our kin out on the journey East!

The P-51 Mustang was a pretty average bird.

Flight speed? Average. Turning radius? Average. Top altitude? Workload? All middle of the road. It was half-decent at just about everything. So naturally, it's my fave. Tonight, I'm sharing a little tribute I did for the Jack-of-all-trades of the USAF in the Second War.

Keep it with you. It'll help you focus.

The caption reads:

"Zero on your six, Cap!
I think you can shake him-
You just gotta focus."



xoxo (CW) Alex

PS: Wish me safe travels. I'm heading to the skies myself this week.

AKUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!

All-righty flocks o folks out there in reality looking into the here of digality.

Last weekity was a wonderful showcasing of photography for your viewing pleasures; it's always a great thing shining the light of fellow crazy artistic comrades.

But now it's time to go back into the dark muUHAHHAHhHahahHAhHA ha ho

..ahem

..soon you will find your self hopelessly lost in an underworld on a planet not too far from home, in a time very very near to now.

But that time is not now.

NOW

you are still safe.

So in the mean time...

Enjoy this work in progress! ;^D


Two separate original drawings inspired by and based off of the hit Aliens movie directed by James Cameron.




The two drawings were scanned, slightly enlarged, combined in Photoshop, and then printed onto a 24"x30" canvas that was then mounted to a same size archival masonite.

I am currently painting the scene.

Stay tuned.... dun dun dun

Alright folks, what a week!

I'm going to cap off photography week with a gorgeous shot by our own Tristyn Tucci. Between the deep chiaroscuro contrasts, the strong semblance of family forged within frameworks of Southwest Americana, and the crisp, tight composition, it's easy to see Tucci's humanistic dialectic embedded on the coarse urban landscape.



Happy Friday, y'all.

It's still photography week! (Oh noes: lexical ambiguity). As in, it still is photography week. Which is awesome because, more content! Yay!

Today's post comes from Heather Cole. Heather is a lecturer of photography and digital art at both Penn State Behrend and Allegheny. Her work captures the subtle spaces between memories; those free radicals of the human experience that we so often fail to notice, and more often lose. Heather finds them. Where other photographers carry an AK, Heather uses a sniper rifle. She is patient, knows what she wants to see, and when to pull the trigger. Heather digs deep, finding the candor and humanity buried in every interaction: from the predefined to the chaotic.

She'll take it from here:

"I love texture. Giving you pretty doesn't feel real. So I want to give you grime and my second favorite flavor. Stories. Or in this case images with an implied visual story.

I can't title these. It'll taint them. So they're listed in alphabetical order, starting with my favorite letter. None are staged. I saw something about to happen and waited...or mildly stuck out my foot to trip the scene into motion. They emerged from professional gigs, volunteer work, and from the everyday."

A.


B.


C.


D.


E.


F.


G.


"Just for giggles, I'll taint one. G is 'He wanted Fido to say cheese.'"

We are in photography week and the new come featured artists are in!

As for me, I am still out in my deep deep corner of space gathering as much data insanity as I can before my air tank runs out and I have to return home...Ah.. get to return home I should say.

Home to a family that loves me, and friends, and a dream job during the day where I can toil over the spoils of the journey out to space, and to always shine bright into the future knowing each day brings the promise of hope and wonder into my loved ones and mines hearts =^)

...but what is that!?

...That strange goop oozing from the rock silicate sample!?!?

awwaEEAWeWAWweEWEWAwwwaeea gooove clamp sluuuroop

We are!!!






The first ten people to email your address will have a signed print that is a photograph of the original goop covered piece of matter...

Sercret sh!.

Never stop reading.

Happy Photography Week everyone!

Today's post is from the fantastic Tucson Photographer Cristina Siqueiros. Cristina's work carries a strong semblance of curiosity, blending the somber quietude of the American ghost town with striking manifestations of composition, clarity, and light. There is a vague sense of lingering humanity in her bold visions of abandon.

I'll let Cristina take it from here:

"I like street photography but I also find beauty in discarded things. While the graffiti on 4th avenue might not seem all that important I find it to be beautiful. I want to know the story behind it. I don't think of myself as a street photographer but more like someone that likes to capture things in the moment. These days I carry my camera almost everywhere. Though, as it is with life, the best moments seem to occur in my life when I don't have the ability to capture them on camera."





"In this body of work I wanted to combine the idea of beauty with things that seemed to have become abandoned over time due to various reasons. This led me into exploring many abandoned buildings, ghost towns, and ruins in southern Arizona. I wanted to show that rusty nails and piles of corrugated metal could be beautiful in their own way. In my exploration of ghost towns I also began to ponder what the lives of the people that lived there were like. I found that some of the sites were no longer preserved and unfortunately had been taken over by graffiti depicting drugs and modern day gang culture. I hope in my work I can show beauty in things that we take for granted."

Ok folks it's been a bit, but here is a toasty poasty!

This is my latest finished commission, that I may show you, and it's called:

Seed




It was rather strait forward. My client wanted to give her bosses a painting for the holidays; they are a married couple you see, and my client, my friend, well, well she thought of me!

She thought of me to do the painting that you see because she saw a painting in their house that was similar. Similar to me!

So she gave me some pictures of her bosses, her friends, the couple, gave me a few words involving color, and direction, which was to be an abstract painting incorporating some of the themes that I was given; I mixed them up into my brain and channeled the above work of art.

See simple ;^)

The name of the company that my friend works for is called Cedar. Their logo is a cedar tree, and in the far left middle of the painting there is a tiny shout out to that logo.

You have to know where to look though muUHAHAHHAhAha!

...

Anywho they loved it, and I hope you do too.

Cheers!

[Benjamin, aged 7 and 3/4, is at his desk with an old tome nearby. He is writing in his journal. His room is bright and friendly. Somewhere, there are dinosaur toys.]

Day One.

Dear Diary,
Turns out, black magic is real! This is great news because the world has been practically BEGGING me to take over for like six years and now I FINALLY have the tools and acumen I need to complete this rough-and-tumble task. Tonight, I bathe; perhaps for the last time. I should say goodbye to Ducky.

xoxo,
Benjamin Brown

Day Two.

Dear Diary,
Not much progress today. I learned a spell that duplicates small quantities of food. But I am patient. Today, food. Tomorrow, the world.

xoxo,
Benjamin Brown

PS: There IS such a thing as too many cookies before dinner, so I guess Science wins that one.

Day Forty Seven.

Dear Diary,
It has come to my attention that I need a sidekick to assist in these endeavors. I found a spell that will help me cook one up in the cauldron I found in Mrs. Beasley's back yard. I have also acquired the necessary lock of fur from the meanest dog in the neighborhood: Old Mr. Cooper's German Shepard, "Bastion." At least, I'm 99% sure it's Bastion's fur and not Ralphie's. Mr. Cooper also keeps a Pomeranian. Hm. Smells like he's almost ready. I think I'll call my creation "The Leviathan."

xoxo,
Benjamin Brown

I think you know what this is about. I'm just gonna post the stamps. Which, in this wave, are poems. Yeah, that's allowed.










xoxo (CW) Alex

Coming at ya!

Mini wave this time. Here's a sweet addition from One Last Day's Adam Yeater:




And here is the cutest thing in the world, by the lovely Holly Randall:




That is, until the next thing she draws. Then that will be the cutest thing in the world. Couple more tomorrow and we're closing in on done. Oh, with the exception of the surprises. But you'll have to show up for those.

We're not just giving everything away for free, folks! That would be crazy. No, these will cost you a nickel.

xoxo (CW) Alex

This image has been a long time coming.

The idea's inception began about two years ago with a word, and that word is Passion.

You see this painting was commissioned, and when my friend and client said she would give me only one word to work from, I was immediately interested by the notion. When she told me the one word I became very excited.

The journey began and so did the aetheric channelling, and what was being channeled was, yes very passionate, but it was also very terrifying. It was bloody. It was war-ing. It was burned.

I could not release what was being made out into the world.

This was very troublesome to me; to capture the trueness of passion into a single tangible form, and above all else my own passion to then be sold with a dollar sign.

It could not be done. I would not let it be done.

So time went on, and eventually I knew that the new time had come, and that time was to paint the dang painting that was first asked for two years ago. Luckily I didn't have a deadline.

I started the painting.

Two days later I texted my friend that I had something wild brewing.

I knew this was it!

Little did I know, two days prior to the text, the same day that I actually started the painting up again, my friend had messaged me on (The Site That Shall Not Be Named Here).

She told me that she woke from a deep sleep and had dreamed about the painting. She didn't know what the dream meant, but in her message she told me that she had gotten to thinking about how long it was taking me, and was thinking we should abort the mission.

Strangely she had this dream the exact moment that I started creating the painting that I knew was the one.

I instantly messaged her back on (The Site That Shall Not Be Named Here) and told her that I completely understood, that she was right, I had been taking an incredibly long time, but that I was going to go ahead and finnish the painting anyway, and if she like it it could still be hers, but if not I would completely understand that too.

This is what was created:



I couldn't rightfully name this work of art Passion, but it is the best I could do in a single tangible form.

It's Flame.

It is a romantic piece. It is lovers. It is magic. It is fiery, and enchanting. There is even a little blood but not waring or deadly. It is obliterating but also calm.

It's Flame.

We are movin' now. Fire in the coals. And still more to come. I seriously cannot believe the generosity I have seen thus far, and it just keeps rollin' in. I'll say this again, but, thank you everyone for showing support for this event!

Okay, stamps.

I've got one for you from the fantastic Kyle Stacher:



Here's an uncommon from legendary jazz pioneer James Marshall:



And here's a sweet rare from Pennsylvania artist Heather Cole (who has become an important leader of the lo-fi movement):



Do enjoy. More soon.

xoxo (CW) Alex

Posts every day this week? Um, okay! Got another wave of stamps for ya. This thing's heating up, and I haven't even got to the surprises yet. Yeah, there are surprises. Do keep watch.

First off, a piece from the intrepid Steimle (you may know him by his human name, Michael Steimle):



Next, a killer uncommon by Alexis Martinez:



And finally, a sick rare from the amazing Lisa Hubbard:



Come on back tomorrow, y'hear?

xoxo (CW) Alex

Crunch time, sports fans.

It looks like this is real, it's happening, and we have the potential to stir the pot; grassroots style. Come Sunday, we're putting everything we got into this benefit. So call the street team. Get them on this. Tell them to bring Pocky.

I suppose that inside reference to Penny Arcade is a nice excuse to talk about Child's Play, and why it's so important to me. Child's Play was originally created by Mike Krahulik and Jerry Holkins of Penny Arcade, who relied upon the tight knit community of game enthusiasts that comprised their fanbase to get it off the ground. I remember those days. At the time, Mike and Jerry were getting fed up with eleven o' clock news stories about the ill effects of games on kids, and sought to prove what a difference a small community of gamers could make. And, well, they knocked it out of the park. Now Child's Play raises millions of dollars each year to bring toys to kids in children's hospitals. But not through flashy mainstream media. Through small, passionate communities.

I grew up with Penny Arcade; read every comic for fifteen years. They were one of the first outlets to democratize digital media. To prove that content is king. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, they inched a little closer to the American dream. They weren't discovered, they earned everything on their own merits, on their own terms. Nobody ever promised them it would be easy, but they went for it anyway.

Let's do the same, how 'bout?

Fine Art: 5c is now running on all cylinders. Artists local and national have submitted artwork for our stamp collection (I see what I did there), and we're starting to see a pretty robust assemblage. Who wants a sneak preview? Alright you twisted my arm. I'll let you see a common, an uncommon, and a rare.

Here's one from the one and only C Wilson:




An uncommon from the lovely Holly Randall:



And a rare from Uruguayan rock star Martin Dominguez Ball:




So, we're doing something cool, here. We're changing the rules on access to fine art. We're doing it on our own terms, and we're benefiting charity via the same organization that inspired this mess. Stop by and change everything for a spell.

xoxo (CW) Alex

PS: Polychrome!

Andrew and the Grove of the Sacred Gumdrop

Andrew was a pessimist. And he didn’t much like his job. The other ants lined up to tap known resources. The fruit grove. The honey jar. They had to work together. When danger came, they would fight together. When they finished their work, they could enjoy the spoils together. Andrew spent most of his day alone. He was a scout. His job was to find new food sources for the hive; and for Mother. He didn’t like to come home empty-handed. As Mother would say, that simply wouldn’t do.

Andrew always packed light. A parcel of yarn was all he needed. Like anyone, he feared the spiders. But he wasn’t about to bog down his pack with needles just in case he ran into one. Andrew knew the land. He would rather flee than fight alone. Mother always told him that finding a source wouldn’t do anyone any good unless he could clear a path back to the hive. And you can’t very well carry a needle over rough terrain. Everyone knows that.

Andrew traversed a small parcel of new terrain each day, never forgetting the ground he had already covered. He had a strong sense of direction, and could cover charted terrain effortlessly. But there was a certain ridge Andrew had been avoiding. It was to the North, beyond a rocky cliffside; where the cold, snowmelt stream trickled into the reservoir below. Andrew had seen all the terrain to the West in a half-day’s passage. And the South, well, that was spider territory. Today, like it or not, he’d have to go North.

Well this was just great. Andrew had a premonition that this way was trouble. Now he was sitting on an isolated ridge in the middle of spider country. To the North was a steep rocky ridge. To the South, a long drop to the river below. To make matters worse, he had twisted his ankle in the fall. To make matters far worse, he could see the light reflected off of a spider’s bulbous eyeball emerging from the cracks in the wall above. To make matters really, very, quite worse, Andrew remembered that spiders could climb. Oh well. Geronimo.

Andrew barreled through the water with a thunderous splash. Actually, he’s an ant, right? So, nix that. Andrew delicately nestled into the water with a peripheral splish, only scarcely breaking its surface tension. As he drifted downstream, he muscled his miniscule frame atop a nearby leaf, and let the water do the talking. He might have looked like a tiny Jason atop a tiny Argo, if your camera was small enough, and you caught it from the right angle. Days passed, weeks maybe. It might have been hours, actually; he couldn’t see the sun from the bottom of the canyon, so his concept of time was compromised. But he sat there for a good, long, sit. When his mighty trireme shored out, he noticed an unusual, sun-touched sheen on a nearby hill. What was catching the light? He closed in to investigate. It was- no. He couldn’t believe his antennae. Granulated sugar. Could this be? The grove of the sacred gumdrop! He had only heard of it in legend: an El Dorado for ants! They couldn’t have found a worse place for it: just on the other side of spider country. Well, Andrew wasn’t about to try to secure any contraband. After all, this mission was reconnaissance. He marked an “X” on his now damp traveler’s map, and started home, whistling all the way. Mother will be so pleased.

xoxo (CW) Alex

She climbs atop the mountain cliff to the final edge.

They find each-other.

There is no fear.

True potential is realized.

This week is a continuation of finishing what has been started.

Here is a commission that I started a couple months back and just completed.

It's about letting go of the comfort zone; it's about taking the leap.

... from the Wilson perspective.

The story starts with a story. A story conceptualized and written by the Word Weaver Dan Leeson and the script went like this: Sacrament Script

Then there was stage two; layout lay-out-er-ing by Alex Greengaard that look a lil' somthin' like dis:




Then we go in with some character concept drawings and a rough draft for approval (which I got!!! BOOM baby!) remember diis on Alex's Birfday?:?:
Characters and Rough Draft

And now to wrap up the Sacrament prologue from the trail of Wilson.










The drawings shall now pass to Greengaard for final inking, texting, and coloring.

This is the first graphic novel undertaking I have ever done in this body, and I am proud to say that it was a group effort done with my brothers.

I've been thinking a lot about the interplay between consonance and dissonance.

It's funny, I've always thought of consonance and dissonance as universal constants. Root, fifth: lovely. Root, fourth: delightful. Root, third, fifth: ain't that some sugar.

Oh and the seventh shapes. Alone, I'm all "What else you got, sweetie?" But play 'em with a fresh major, and it's like "Will they? Won't they?" Put a ring on it, already, guy. Sheesh.

Root, second, though- now that won't pay the bills. Why? They're right next to each other, but they can't live in harmony. Oh. I see what I did there.

Turns out, dissonance and consonance are as much psychological as they are physical. The predominant tuning in Western music, 12-tone equal temperament, it's just an algorithm dividing intervals into equal parts based on a semitone ratio of the twelfth root of two. Turns out, the ear will hear consonance outside of these boundaries as well.

I think my ear isn't very well trained to traditional consonance. A major fourth is supposed to be more consonant than a major third, but I can't hear it. It all sounds fine to me. I also let my guitar fall out of tune sometimes. So? Come at me.

The funny thing is, the perception of consonant, stable forms depends on knowledge of dissonance. Every composition contains dissonance as notes depart from the root. When the resolution comes, the dissonance provides a departure; making the resolution all the more satisfying. The further the departure, the more satisfying the resolution.

I like feedback. I like major seconds. I like static and turmoil. I like the shot where you look into the medicine cabinet and then scary man is behind you but it was all a dream; or was it? Here, I made you some dissonance.



xoxo (CW) Alex

This one's for me >^D

One creates and the other... Also creates.

But which Witch is which???

The world may never know..

Scarlet Witch




Here we come Comic Con TucSon!

Today's post will require an adventure.

Steven (I renamed him), the ferocious T-Rex from last week's proceedings, looks a bit lonely to me; and I think he could use a friend. Everybody who has ever taken a biology class knows that a Tyrannosaurus's best ally was the Stegosaurus. That is, before Lando Calrissian turned those Stegosaurus rebels over to that Pterodactyl bounty hunter. Ah, facts.

My point is, I need to draw a Stegosaurus, but I'm running short on texture maps, and I intend to do a field mission to find the perfect texture for an unstoppable Stegosaurus.

*This asterisk will represent the passage of time. I chose it because of its resemblance to a snowflake.

So, I went into the field and returned with 48 snaps of killer textures. It is my intention to put them all in a zip file and share them with everybody, so that nobody goes without textures this Christmas. While I was walking, I kept thinking of artsy things to say about how the stones were speaking to me. I actually had to audibly interrupt my inner monologue with the words "shoot me" before I realized how pretentious I was sounding. I'm taking close-ups of garbage can lids, not submitting to the national gallery.

So, for this shot, appropriately titled Skree, I went with the stains left under an olive tree. Besides their use as cells for my next prologue, I think these belong to my baby nephews. Meet Matthew:



xoxo (CW) Alex

One of my favorite topics of conversation has always been: if you could have a superpower what would it be? For the longest time I always thought that flying was it for me. Total freedom. But as I got older and was introduced to the awesomeness of comics I quickly discovered that I had some serious options which raised the stakes of my favorite question. An example: I always thought that Rogue's powers were pretty neat but her limitations made them somewhat undesirable. The scarlet witch's Hexing powers were interesting too but to be honest I never quite understood them. Then I read all about Jean Grey and the Phoenix Force. Now I know its not really a superpower so much as a crazy co-dependent relationship between goddess and a level 5 esper. (nerd alert here!) It was then I called dibs on that power--even if having them made me a [hilarious expletive] lunatic.
So gearing up for comic con and beginning my quest on a new line of art prints I began to write a list of characters I want to draw. As I went down said list I realized all the characters I wanna portray have superpowers that have at one time or another been on my list of favorite skills. So for my first print I drew "Phoenix."
Enjoy

Also known as a skimmer.

The SeKtor Seekers of Seraphim Dues comb the lower layers to the edge of The Void.

Their primary purpose is to monitor emulsion disturbances, however, being so close to Event Horizon, other conjurings have been known to manifest.

Okay, sports fans, it's crunch time. Comic Con is about a week away and we've got five days to turn on the creative heat. After that the plan is to stop. That is, stop with the creative stuff and deal with all the boring prep work we don't want to do. If we finish that early, then I won't cry about a few last minute pieces. What I anticipate, however, is that we've forgotten something important. As unsettling as that sentiment may be for the paranoid artist, I'm not going to break my brain worrying about it. And if I do, I'll just get a bonsai tree to obsess over. What am I talking about? Oh, no. It's happening.

Dinosaurs.

Today's cell is from an upcoming prologue, and I can't tell you much more, because the comic timing in this one is important. In fact, the premise itself is the joke, so I need to be careful while introducing you to this fabric landscape. I suppose I will not be able to hide the fact that there are dinosaurs in this one. But that's all you get.

I've been thinking about speed in the comic artform. I wonder how some artists compare in this regard and whether it plays into the selection process for the major publishers. Typically, I'm very slow with my cells; and getting a page done is practically torture. Wilson has agreed of late, as his page one for Sacrament was an ancient bloodletting rite. Holly has probably finished eleven pages in the time it took me to write this paragraph. So, emulating Holly's kapow-art jitsu, I sought to paint this one with great haste. The experiment was to see if I'd lose any fidelity if I lit a fire under my shoe. The process was something like this: Paint= splat! Values= zerrrrp. Texture= bang, bang. And congratulations, it's a dinosaur!



Unfortunately, now I'm fresh out of excuses when I can't drag myself over to the drafting table.

xoxo (CW) Alex

Back to the future!!!!

Here ya go ladies and boys the first page of the Sacrament prologue for Prologues!!!



Still another page to go, and then our very own Adawg gets to cast his magic words and texture on and under it.

Stay tuned folks, things are happening here in Things!

Alright, sports fans, Prologues is up and rolling, now! We're swimming with ideas and dropping content like woah for this thing, and we've finally got a couple of finished pages for your viewing delight.

By the way, Holly, nice Ruxpin poster! Love, love, love it!

The contest was, who so ever finishes their pages first gets dibs on pages one and two of the published book. Now, I'm not entirely sure whether or not I informed my compatriots of the contest or the rules therein, but, regardless, I am the winner, na na na na na, etc. As the worst fisherman of the group (nay, world), just let me have this one, okay!? Alright, it's settled.

Okay, shop talk. On one of our work days, Herr Wilson was telling me about his plan for his upcoming game Alchemia in which he finished his light values in pencil with his classic hash-and-smudge judo; and then, when it was time to color, he could do a light wash in watercolor and the whole thing would just come together! I asked if he had actually tried this, and he replied that he had not.

So I did! For Ruxpin, I had done most of my crosshatch work in ink already, so there was a pretty good footprint for shadow values. As for lighter shadows, and, well, light, I decided to go with Wilson's idea, but with a brush and diluted India ink (six or seven values therein) instead of pencil. I had been experimenting with this technique in software, but it turned out I could cut the time in a third by using actual paint. Who knew? The jitsu was print, scan, paint, scan, scan. The background was also done seperately, with the same India ink, splattered furiously in the tub. It looked like an art murder scene. I realize now I could also have taken a picture of my shirt this weekend after I murdered all of those fish, and produced similar results.

So, without further ado, I give you Prologues, pages one and two.





xoxo (CW) Alex

I hate technology. Just hate it. Ok, I actually love the ever living crap out of it. It makes my life super easy…but its always right in the middle of doing something really important--important to me anyways--that it just flips you the bird and decides to not work for no good reason. Prime example is today…just now…Im trying to upload a couple of truly snazzy pieces of art that I just finished today and for no reason my scanner REFUSES to work. Now had I dropped the damn thing, spilled water all over it or even name called it I would understand its stubbornness. Alas none of these things happened. Not two seconds after using it for my first scan it completely craps out for the second….But now I'm just ranting.
So a couple of us from the art dept or as we sometimes call ourselves "Exquisite Corpse" have been working on a collection of prologues for a collection of mini comics cleverly named "Prologues." Alex and Wilson have both submitted ideas and actual art to show you all a sample of how this works. We tell a quick introduction to a story over the course of about two pages with words and pictures and just when we have you hooked we move along to the next story. I image that at some point with enough people interested in one story or another we will expand on some of our ideas but until we have the time and energy to do so this neat little peepshow is all you get. Sorry to [edit=disappoint] you.
Now one little idea I had was to make flash pages of some of these stories to get people interested. What can I say: Im a sucker for marketing cool [edit=stuff]. I have created two such posters for two of the already published stories the boys have worked on. Ruxpin The Terrible and Sacrament--Which I should mention is our very own Dan Leeson's brainchild. So here is where my dilemma kicks in--my scanner crapped out after uploading Ruxpin so you'll have to wait for the second one! Sorry folks--you always want to leave them wanting more…..

Have you ever been to every major rock 'n' roll concert that you've ever been too??? Of course you have!!! They always have such great tracks playing over the PA system that get you hyped up for the main attraction.

They keep playing more tunes over the PA... Where the hek is our awesome band!!??! We want SPINAL TAP!!!

Well this folks is one of those moments...

You've been promised Prologues so here is another oldie but a goody instead =^D

The Eye of Polyphemus


Here ye be the face of our great first game, and first outside of music collaboration presented by the founding members of Wolfgang and Sons.

The game is: Nostos

This painting of Polyphemus, Son of Poseidon, is one that we are very proud of. I wanted Polyphemus to really showcase what his name proudly projects: One that is most famous.

So how does an artist go about making the most famous of all famous mythological creatures (the man eating cyclops)most famous??? Simple... First you use the prettiest/ most buffest of your male friends that you can find, and he must be named Dan Clarke; Second, you make him surReally terrifying by giving him three faces that speak in unison, alluding to the horror that is his three part harmonic voice.

You may also want to make him evolutionary battle ready, by showcasing empty divergent eye sockets that naturally confuse his enemies away from his one weak point, his one eye. Lastly, the dual fang man maw; the last hidden gem; the true mouth that opens through the line of all three faces big enough to swallow a six foot man whole.

Take another gander up at ze painting... It's all there.

Enjoy =^)

So those who know me best know that I am attracted to beautiful things. So when I began working on my ReMix series--which is a collection of revisited Disney/Marvel characters i "Holly-fied"--I knew that one had to be the "Beauty" of "Beauty and the Beast." She was also one of the first of this little series that was bought which is pretty sweet. There are several other characters i depicted--and may more I have yet to visit. Still "Beauties" is a personal favorite that I share with the cool kids that are part of the Wolfgang & Sons collective. Next week I will have a sample from my spin on Prologues and if you're lucky a little something extra...no...its not a cookie. Contain your disappointment.

It's about time I finished something that I've started, and that starts with this Ororo Munroe painting that was first posted about here



The process is crazy and new for me, and I certainly have grown and learned a lot, even since the completion of of the above painting.

The process goes like this: Draw an awesome drawing, make a photo copy of that drawing, use acrylic medium to mount the photocopy onto a masonite board, paint the mounted photocopy, you are now left with a stellar ORIGINAL drawing, and ORIGINAL painting, TWO FOR THE PRICE OF ONE!!!!

super sweet.

Still stay tuned for the final on the first of our group Prologue kids.

Eat your veggies.

Krug could smell human blood from a mile away. He knew how to follow directions, and he knew which end of his club was the business end. Well, he was pretty sure he knew. Actually, that didn't seem to matter to Krug.

Krug loved the thrill of battle. He was a member of the fifth fifth infantry of the lower Azlorian horde. It might have actually been the fifty fifth infantry, but Krug only had ten fingers. Counting wasn't Krug's strong suit. Bludgeoning was.

Krug had seen a thousand battles, and he remembered every one he fought in this week. The raid on the human village. The storming of Pleasant Town. That one battle. Ah, memories.

Krug had many friends, and they all shared many interests. Pillaging. Explosions. Many of Krug's friends even shared his name. Good old Krug.

One day, while collecting the spoils of war from a peaceful human village, a shining object caught his eye. It was a glowing, magical butterfly. Without the slightest thought (and Krug only had the slightest thoughts anyway), he pounced, capturing the creature between his hands.

Krug opened his hands, just a crack. The glow of the sweet creature permeated between his fingers. As he looked, he could see the deep sorrow behind the sunken eyes of the butterfly, the weight of his plight, and the emanating fear of death. Krug took a breath. He was feeling something different, something new. Krug was having an existential crisis. Krug felt a connection to the poor beast. Somehow, they were the same.

Krug opened his hands, releasing the butterfly into the golden summer sky.



Then he grabbed the little bugger and ate him in one bite. Krug wasn't a philosopher. He was a goblin.

xoxo (CW) Alex

Happy birthday my man!!! <3

The Art Ninjas struck and left sacrament on your doorstep ;^)

Speaking of sacrament, that is the name of our next feature for Prologues!

I'm going to start my journey into Prologues with the group concept first, as opposed to my personal practice; I get to get my hands dirty, and learn how to oil the machine better that way anyway...

Anyway (now, double anyway [now tripple {AHHH INFINITY!!!!}]), The story was written by our co-founder Captain Leeson, and last weekend our other brother Alex and I hashed out some concept drwarings and framed out how the story board should look for the first two pages of our prologue, and they looked a little something like this:


Monk Concept (we changed the face to not have a beard) (duh)


Hunter Concept

The script is written as follows:

EXT. THICK ROLLING FOREST

The trees are thick and dark, the forest floor is sparse. A
brown robed MONK and a leather clad HUNTER saunter along a
dimly lit path that meanders through the trees. The monk has
a leather satchel and a walking staff while the hunter
sports a bow on his back and a short sword on his belt.

MONK
The body of the beast lay in a
meadow not far from here.

HUNTER
You're certain it was the monster I
seek?

MONK
Part man, part wolf? I am certain.

A sharp noise cracks ahead of them and the Hunter grabs the
Monk and pulls him back as they stop and listen. The monk
stares at the hunter as he slowly and quietly pulls
something from his bag and eats it.

HUNTER
What is it that you're eating?

MONK
My sacrament. It's brings holy
communion with god.

The Hunter silences him and listens a moment before
beckoning him onward.

HUNTER
Let's hurry. I don't want to be
caught in these woods after dark.

The Hunter presses onward in front as the monk follows
behind him. As they make there way into a particularly dark
stretch of woods, the Hunter slowly begins to change shape
and morph into a Werewolf. The monk calmly reaches into his
satchel and removes a bright blade, raising his arm and
plunging it down in a swift arc, planting the knife into the
back of the transforming Hunter. The Hunter falls to his
knees, morphing back into full human form. His head drops
down and he stares at the ground as he slowly slumps over
onto the forest floor.

MONK
I was mistaken. It is here that the
beast lay.



Here is how we decided to draw up the two story board pages for our rough draft:

Page 1


Page 2


Next I need to fill in the dialogue bubbles, and get approval from the client (in this case the rest of The Wolfgang)

Pretty neat huh??? We makin' stuff like graphic novels, and it is fun as [removed by editor]!

Stay tuned for the final draft on my next post.

Until next time kids!!! and always remember to brush your teeth =^D

Okay. We're focusing on something. I'm so proud.

The next project in our "Things" division is a graphic novel entitled Prologues. I created prologues as an attempt to curb our "Art ADD" as my cohort Wilson calls it. In essence, the project is a series of two-page stories. They are intended to accomplish a bit of world building and hook the reader. The problem (for the reader, not us) is that when you turn the page, you're onto another Prologue. Again, problem perhaps for the reader, but we are simply delighted to torment you.

It's a great fit for us, because we really love world building, and we really love short stories, but a full length graphic novel can be a daunting thing to just crack open. So, we're cracking open a bunch at once, but with no real commitment. It's a breakfast cereal variety pack with less sugar and no processed carbs. So I delegated the work as thus: At any given time, each of is to work on an individual prologue. We have to do the whole thing ourselves, start to finish. Meanwhile, we'll also be working on a collaborative prologue using our Exquisite Art Factory Jitsu.

So, after a week of furious pencil scratching, I was just finishing ink-and-panel for my personal prologue, Ruxpin the Terrible, when Dan sends the script for our first collaborative prologue. Um, it's really good. Like, good good. He hasn't named it, which means I get to name it, and I don't take that power lightly. I don't want to give away too much, but we did concept art all day Sunday, and, it fires on all cylinders. Burns clean, environmentally friendly, corn-based fuel, if you know what I mean.

This is going to be a long post, because now I want to talk about Ruxpin. I've shared the idea to friends and contemporaries, and their reactions were almost uniformly delight mixed with clear and present terror. It's a simple premise: that perhaps those Ruxpin dolls were... hiding something. My good friend Lindsay told me that she had a Ruxpin doll as a baby, and it was so terrifying that she would try to pinch its mouth shut to keep it from talking. I felt that that justified the already very disturbing work I had done on this one.

Here's ink-and-panel for Ruxpin the Terrible:





I'll splash a little color on these and do an official release next week.

xoxo (CW) Alex

So we here at Wolfgang and Sons have quite a few bases around the ol' T-Towne; one of which is the famous Hummingbird House.

We are gearing up and getting ready for The Drawing Studio to begin hosting classes at our lovely abode, and to spruce things up our Lady Elen has us retiling the guest bathroom floor.

We aren't talking 'bout any normal tiling though, we are talking full on scrap pieces of left overs, from other grand projects, in a crazy game of Tetris style retiling. We wouldn't have it any other way; we're crazy artists!!!

This is what we worked on today around the great outdoor mansion.

We grout tomorrow.

Here is an oldie but goodie known as Elemental X.

The midst of Prologues is abound around us, and although I do have a new sketch or two pertaining, they would not be worthy to show here tonight, as they would probably make no sense to your poor feeble minds MuhhhAHhahAhAha Only I know the secrets to my artistic cypher.

So alas I shall force you all to be patient, which I hear is a virtue. There, you're welcome; See I'm not so evil.

So in the meantime, before we move forward on our seeds for graphic novels, which you classy, lovely, eager audiencerz have bared witness to, you may enjoy this heer classic:

Elemental X


The Elemental series is quite elementary. The paintings are based off of the human face, but not just any face, one that was never really a face at all. As the structure never had structure, and every time the hand mind union try to force in objection the object is broken; broken to create new objects that are further pulled apart until the little voice in my head says the painting is completed.

I do always keep composition and balance in mind though; I can't help myself. I'll work on the Elementals, rotating the canvas, balancing it in every direction even. Hek download the file, rotate it yourself and make it your next desktop!!! You have four paintings to choose from for the price of one... Which to you here on Wolfgang and Sons is FREE!

Enjoy =^)

With Prologues around the corner, I have been experimenting with new techniques in my comic backdrops, as well as searching for new methodologies for generating texture. My general process typically involves close-up photographs of textures I find interesting around town which I later convert to texture maps for use in mixed-media pieces.

In the Shadowcat piece, I used many of the same processes, but with real paint. It was both exciting and terrifying to be out of my comfort zone on that one. So I'm chasing the dragon to find new ways to stretch my practice and build a robust bag of tricks. I'm actually working on a dragon this week, so, patting myself on the back for that metaphor. Good job, me. Keepin' it relevant.

Oh, right. Post. Got this. I think a powerful emergent technology for the purpose of comic coloring is the gui-based vector generator. I also think that such powerful technology brings back old debates about artist vs. tools and art vs. non art and plants vs. zombies. Okay, well the first two. There is no debate about the third. Plants are better than zombies. Interestingly, my experimentation led me toward a piece inspired by an early Duchamp painting; a work he produced before he started asking these questions.

Meta Discourse for the win. Also, enjoy Sticks and Stones:



xoxo (CW) Alex

The air has been ripe with change, and Strife channeled supreme on this day of reset reboot.

So I've got a thing for Angels. Dragons and deemons sometimes make the cut almost always as well.

I'm going to go ahead and say this one is a deemon. Captured using the magic of a graphite pencil.

I used some of Senor Greengaard's technique, of copy printing drawings, to expand on a drawing that was going very well, but proved to be on too small of a surface. Scanning the image and then re-printing it on watercolor paper, here you see the finished drawing. I shall next mount the watercolor paper onto a wooden or masonite surface, using acrylic layering medium.

True to the nature of the strife, I do not have a computer with Photoshoppe, or any sort of pixel morphing capabilities, so you wont be getting a nice preview. You'll have to find it... in the future.

Don't miss it!!

Click.



Here --------> Strife


P.S. Now aware of capturing capabilities, I shall spend future energy on harnessing a more lightful guardian. Look out for Symmetry.

Bugs... Bugs are on the screen heer in da desert night, outside, at the great table of interwebs.

Te Great C>Wilson still works a champion "load to [someday] explode" from his secret project known as Alkemia.

Between being a member of blue collar nine to five, a member of The Wolfgang, a member of The Secrecy, and Exquisite Corpse Art Department, it can be a challenge to squirt out a little creative juice for the sake of hek yeah. I apologize for being so miserly with my clockworks, but it is for the good of the land muhHAHHAhHAhhAHhaha!

Seriously though you will get a huge explosion someday in the not too distant future, but until then, enjoy this classic.

Speaking of classic, this beauty got it's name the same way every dinosaur got it's name: Greek/Latin root words. This dino was discovered using the imagination as opposed to, well... Reality.

Enjoy

Flight Wing Volopteron

It's name means: Flight Wing tee hee hee =^P

"I peek into the hole, I struggle for control
The children love the show
But they fail to see the anguish in my eyes
Fail to see the anguish in my eyes

I scratch around the brim, I let my mind give in
The crowd begins to grin
But they seem to scream when darkness fills my eyes
Seem to scream when darkness fills my eyes, it's no surprise

Fail to see the tragic, turn it into magic
My big top tricks will always make you happy
But we all know the hat is wearing me

My bag is in the hat, it's filled with this and that
My vision's getting fat, the rabbit's just a monkey in disguise
Stars and pills and needles dance before our eyes
They will bite the hand
If it is slower than the quickness of their scrutinizing eyes

Fail to see the tragic, turn it into magic
My big top tricks will always make you happy
But we all know the hat is wearing me
Chicanery will always make you happy
But we all know the hat is wearing me"


-Marilyn Manson

"You need to paint this," Holly said as I sauntered in, a bit late. She hands over a super stylized sketch of one of my favorite Marvel characters, Kitty Pride. All wild and expressive, you know how she does.

"I'll color it," I say.

"No, you'll paint it."

So now I had to paint; and I'd been doing such a great job at resisting. I was sure I knew what she had expected. Me sitting there with a steady hand and a tiny brush, pining over light and shadow for hours. So when she came back and the entire thing was covered in purple splatters, with no sign of her original image, she made the surprise-with-worry-mixed-in face. A fan favorite. Then she noticed I had a stack of the image printed out on several sheets of cardstock. I went on to paint each of the elements I wanted to work with, and then layered them all together in Photo-whatever. Oh, but that look of surprise and terror. Priceless.

So, rigorous exploration. Check.



I guess we have a table at Comic Con. So that's cool.

xoxo (CW) Alex

Here is a special in the know for the style I've been working in for this 130 image project for KinSoul Studios.

This one is mine though and I can post-y post-y post-y

Gearing up for the Tucson Comic Con complete with original awesome and your favorite knock offs.


The King of Diamonds (his name is Joe Kerr)


Ororo Munroe (Deva form)


P.S. Graphite #2 pencil on lil neat pad of Paper

P.S.S. posted here <- First

Hi kids,

This is a fantom of a memory of a thought that belongs to the light of a shadow.

Sometimes you are super prolific when in comes to making art, and sometimes you may get struck by one of those cursed "artistic blocks" (that's not a real thing [actually that's true, it's all in the mind {but is what goes on inside the mind real?}]), and sometimes you spend a whole bunch-a-ton of your creative time working on a contracted project that has a thing called "first rights", and you can't publish anything you are working on until your freelance employer publishes first. We don't have to worry about that for today's post though, oh except for that whole thing about first rights.

There are all kinds of crazy things to account for in the world of copy-writes, and contracts, and trademarks, but that is not the case here on our lovely lil site.

I digress; some day soon I may be able to sneak some peeks of the project your man Wilson (I am a ninja after all) is working on, but until then scope out the little cutie below created by our very own Art Department's Alex Greengaard and Holly Randall.

This guy is the guy you use when the world's weight becomes too heavy you just want to curl up and... spoon... ten gallons of peanut-butter-chocolate-chocolate-ice-cream... right into your dot dot dot

mouth. =^O <---gobble gobble gobble

Ssssserious busyness is sssswoopin' around out heer.

Signed a 130 image contract today.

A secret window to an unknown knowledge of truth be known is shown.

This paintings creation, from drawing to full painting in time lapsed form, may be seen in the documentary by Fractal Films to be released next year.

Admit tingly... I painted more on it after... Just a little...

No one knows.

..Except for you.

A schizophrenic vision that is as real as real is real, then manifested to reality in a totem, then obsession.

It guards us.

It came from...

SeKtor

It's crazy how much has been going on in the art department since our very own A-Dawg has been away on adventure. Many projects at once, and many more to go, but alas none that I may show. Except for maybe some art done by Lady Holly Randall... Who rhox! Actually there is plenty that can be shown off but my technology has temporarily been scattered so, this post will be updated with twelve dozen extra limbs in a matter of hours.

Enjoy... Alien later ;^)

The time is nigh and I, The Great See Wheelsin, have come today to show the way through the gate to awe that awaits it's own unveiling.

Many suns have crossed the horizon to get our rogue champion to the top of the vista, and it is a great view. On one side is the land below; rich with the clamor of day to day working-class life...

"We are one step further." the message is deciphered by our comrades on the adjacent side.

The even greater view comes from the side still connected to the vast mountain. Ever high it ascends beyond the clouds to heights that soar limitless.

That is where we must go.

It's only worth it if we make it together.


Vista C. Wilson: cwilsonart.com

The long awaited test results dwindled a lost thought...

then they appeared...

All zeros...

Until

"How could this be!?"






They were trying to wipe out what was left of the Un-World,

but it would not be undone...

All communication has been blacked out in the city for reasons unknown dot dot dot

546

So the art department is up and running. Wilson, Holly, and yours truly have started a ritual which feels somehow ancient and powerful. It works like this: the three of us sit around a table and create. When any of us feels we've penciled something with gusto, we pass it. The next artist who receives the work must ink it, and pass it to the third for color. The process, "create, pass, create," is dynamic and visceral. And the work is haphazard, high energy, and one-of-a-kind. I have this wild idea that we try it in public and sell the originals for peanuts (Seriously, Tucc, you've got me on the pun train and I don't know where it stops). After all, DIY ethics, open source, and whatnot.

I have two pieces I want to share, but one is very far away, so I'll need to update this post when it returns to me. Aw, jeez. I'm starting to talk like Wilson, aren't I? Next thing you know I'll be eating creosote.

Okay, this one is a Wilson/me original. It's called Ancient Grudge. Wizards, feel free to use it when you re-release that card for the 91st printing. Guess who did what. I dare you.



Now, this one is sold, but we're on fire right now, so we'll have much hotness for you asap. Oh, yeah I realize I'm late with the post tonight, so I'll hit you with some music tomorrow. Then we're even, right?

xoxo (CW) Alex

A shadow looms over an innocent. Caught in an unfamiliar place with only one person to trust: herself. Inside with all of her knowledge, heart, and convictions, the fire faerie shaman swirls her great wand to dispel the magic of the encroaching shadow, for she too may now see the world behind the world.

Sometimes life gets busy. Sometimes the busy and effort and work result in no tangible things to share. I mean, I can share a photo of my (not) new guitar. The exact model that thievery spirited away, only in a shiny new color!




As fun as that is, it's not very creative to show off the new tools. So here's a snip of script that will eventually be worked into a final draft that's handed to the illustrious artist crew to illustrate.

Note - All things are subject to change. So it goes.
------------------------------------------------------------

EXT. ARID PLAINS, NIGHT – A gently sloping grassland is silhouetted against the dark sky. Five men sit in a circle talking as a fire burns brightly between them. They are tribal elders of a village sized group of gypsy beduins that live amongst the plains. They are CHIEF PRAXIS, ELDER OPELL, ELDER TOTH, ELDER SINTAR, and ELDER BREYER. A sixteen year old teenage boy named SCIPIO regularly feeds the fire as the men speak.

Chief
The Grenks in the North have grown fat and
content with their riches. We shall send a raiding
party and take their treasures and trade them for
more horses.

Elder Toth
It would be more wise to attack to the east, where
we might gain the horses directly.

Elder Opell
I am not confident we should risk angering the
Visiroths. Their trade has always been fair and
reliable.

The Chief puffs from a long stemmed pipe as he considers the discussion. Scipio scoffs loudly upon hearing that the Visiroths are reliable, and Elder Breyer takes notice.

Elder Breyer
You disagree, young one?

Scipio
I'm sorry, I should not have reacted.

Elder Breyer
Speak, what is it that drives you to derision?

Scipio
Visiroths are not worth our honor. We owe
them nothing.

Chief
Your anger betrays you young Scipio. Do
not let your heart cloud your mind. We
may very well raid the Visiroths, but if we
do it shall be for the right reasons.

Elder Opell
Attacking to the north carries far less risk. The road
has more cover for withdraw.

Elder Sintar
If the raid is successful, we shall have no need
for cover. We should attack east.

Chief
We can attack the Visiroths and use the fresh stock
of horses to raid the Grenks and retrieve greater
treasures than we could take otherwise.

Elder Breyer
There is wisdom in such a plan.

Scipio
If there is to be a raid on the Visiroths, I would
join it.

The Chief gives Scipio a hard stare for speaking up without invitation.

Chief
You are not yet a man. I can not in good conscious send
a boy to die so readily.

Scipio
I've been training. My sword strikes true.

-----------------------------------------------------------

It's been a great day of hard work, and a nite of pure delight witnessing the Troubadour Theater in action.

Then, of course, the Night.

Followed to a nite light right in the middle of go to sleep.

I know this may not make sense, however, it is the way of the me.

Here's an oldie: Artifice II: Mask of Loki

The Eleventh Day of March- “There will be barriers,” she said, as though one more warning could change my mind. “Then I’ll have to break through them,” I replied, tightening the leather rings binding the straps of my pack and checking my bootstraps a third time, “Or go around.”

The First of April- The undergrowth swelled as the last of the day’s light crept out of view. The air was thick, choked with the forest’s noxious vapor and old, dry ash. I drew in a deep breath, but stopped short. My lungs and throat contracted violently to expel the heavy pitch, as the darkness cinched tighter. I was afraid, and cold, but my compass still worked.

The Twenty-Second of April- My eyes adjusted to the darkness. The trees began to rematerialize as I caught my breath. I stopped a moment to reassess my bearings, leaning my palm against a sacred oak as I rifled for my navigation tools. The surface gave a little: brittle and damp. Moss. I was heading the wrong way. I tightened my fist, knowing well that this was neither the time nor the place to cry out. I couldn’t see the citadel, but I now knew where it was; and, more importantly, I knew where it wasn’t.

May the Thirteenth- My toenails were blackened; my toes battered and bruised from the incessant grinding against the worn inner linings of my frayed canvas boots. The pain was dull and persistent. There was no spectacular boundary to the forest: it simply trailed off into a dry, mountainous region, with steep, red, rocky ridges. I was expecting the light of the citadel to burst high into the night sky at the forest’s edge: a beacon, lighting the final push. Rather, the light was small: warm and distant, as it first appeared over the third ridge. A hearth, dimly welcoming the wary traveler. I checked my watch. Spores from the forest had stopped it cold, but I looked again out of habit. I knew this much: time was running short. The pathway was steep and treacherous. If I sprinted, I’d surely fall victim to the cliffside. If I traversed carefully, I’d run out of time. I needed to find another route.

June the Third, Recalling the Events of the Thirteenth Day of May- The sun sunk low on the horizon’s edge as my decision began to surface. If I couldn’t deliver the message to the citadel before dark fell, the warring party would strike, as were their orders if compromise could not be reached by the third day of negotiations. The cliffside was steep, and the path ahead treacherous. I loosened my pack and retrieved the treaty, letting the weight of the travel provisions sink toward the ground as the leather straps slipped through my fingers. I clutched the treaty tightly and let the satchel fall. I sprinted toward the chaparral, hoping the briar would break my fall should I lose balance. I misjudged a low-lying hollow and tumbled into the thick, thorny brush. The spines tore through my ribcage as the rocky cliffside etched abrasions across my forearms. I got up. I held the treaty tightly. These words meant everything.

xoxo (CW) Alex

So I say to my buddy Scott, "Hey. I'm going to post some pictures of some of your sculptures on the Wolfgang And Sons website."

He said sure.

This is a piece from his World Myth Series, entitled
"Forest Tengu"







Check out Scott's full art gallery here:

http://aliasghost.deviantart.com/gallery/

And another thingy to click on is here:


http://aliasghost.blogspot.com/

Graphic Novel Update!

I know I haven't finished rambling about exposition, but there are other elements in the setup / front end / beginning of a story that naturally belong. A highly important element (again directly a part of the world of the story that should be very clear in the writers head) is the element of theme. At the most basic heart of many many stories is the simple Good Vs. Evil theme. Good Vs. Evil is most effectively built in correlation with other themes. Harry Potter is a Good Vs. Evil story, but it also has the theme of Harry not fitting in. He doesn't fit in with his family, he has constant detractors at school who reject him outright, teachers and authorities often dismiss him... the list goes on for seven books, until (Spoiler alert!) Harry kills all the bad guys and grows up to be way awesome.

Star Wars also plays the Good Vs. Evil theme, adding on to it an underdog theme. The Good guys are always outgunned and outmanned by the bad guys. Even when Han Solo is leading the Ewoks to victory on the forest moon of Endor, a bunch of AT-AT walkers show up and it's full scale forest battle madness.

Epic fantasy stories are almost as a rule Good VS. Evil stories. They don't have to be, like a cake doesn't have to be sweetened with sugar. It's just that when people take a bite out of a piece of cake they already have a context and an expectation for the cake.

Now the cat is out of the bag. This story will involve Good VS. Evil. Wait, you say, I thought this graphic novel was going to present Atheist/Agnostic mythologies, a grossly underrepresented ideology in the fantasy world! Well, I say, I am. And if I can do it while playing into the common contexts and comfortable structures people rely on, all the better. For our young hero, the theme of underestimation will remain a constant thread with the Good VS. Evil theme.
We've already set it up: His village does not think he is worth a sword and can not join a raiding party.
Good Vs. Evil has been setup with the army arriving in the hills.

It's not a bad idea to write your theme down (not Good VS. Evil, that is so basic as to implied) and tape it somewhere where you are writing. Stay in the world, work the themes.

Keep on keeping on.

Just for you infantile tiny minds out there WIP stands for: Work In Progress, and for you near smart minds: yes it can be grammatically INcorrect to capitalize the I in In, and also the N in INcorrect, and sometimes even the use of a semicolon:: in the place of a comma... but eye am the Great See Wheelsin and I do what I want all ova yo branemem!

I digress.

You're all very cute.

So here is how you start to build a super massive city in the middle of a surReal desert, not to be confused with dessert (two esses means you want more more MORE!) by using nothing more than a little paint.

,,, and that is with the talent meter only pushed to 10%

You can imagine how sensational the hair is ;^)

Have a lucky day.

World.

May also be called Embrace.

This is a painting commission for a friend that is leaping of the edge of his reality to be with his soul mate. There is a catch though, he must leave all that he knows behind to realize his dreams; a complete, true "leap of faith" he says. He wants me, the Great C. Wilson to capture such a notion.

No more details for you. I must sleep, and it's still so early. Nite

Graphic Novel Update!

What else naturally goes in the front end of any story? Exposition! "What's that?" my dog often asks, and I read the first sentence of wikipedia to him very plainly:

"The exposition is the portion of a story that introduces important background information to the audience; for example, information about the setting, events occurring before the main plot, characters' back stories, etc."

Now there are several ways writers do this. Some exposition methods work wonderfully, some are boring and make me want to read wikipedia to my dog. I don't think it's too complex. As long as the world of the story is clear, the chessboard is set, the world will come through.

Consider a scene involving our hero, a teenager, trying to join the group of men leaving to raid another camp. We want to inform the reader as much about our world as we can, while still moving things forward. (Things that move forward include character developments as well as plot developments). Why not have a stranger in the camp, and an older camp member explaining to the stranger all that is happening? Well I'll tell you why. It's boring. It's telling when one could be showing. Anything that old man can explain to the stranger can be communicated through some form of showing.

In this setting, men leaving for a raid, we can squeeze many questions out that any random man leaving for the raid might ask. Why raid these people instead of those? Whomever is leading the raid must now justify his decision to the group, and in doing so our exposition can occur. Well, that leader may say, the people I want to go kill and steal from our a greater threat to us than those people you want to go kill and steal from, because those people haven't converted to the neighboring Empire's religion and received their help.

"That's the chief. No one goes against his will or he will crush them."
This can be shown so many ways through an action of a character that opposes the will of the chief and said chief issues punitive judgment. As humans, our minds are very adept at filling in the social gaps. It's so much better to see the chief in action than to have a character just tell the audience what we want them to know. Information must be communicated through the story for it to register in the subconscious and not just the conscious. A good story must engage both to connect with it's audience.

Part of our setup will include such a scene, and in future posts I will work through it and compare and contrast the two basic methods of exposition: showing and telling.

Acrylic on Watercolor on Ink on 12"x16" Wood Board



Through the portal of The Great Lens, the Seer of The Tribunal of Seraphim Alpha endures a traumatic vision. There is more beneath what appears on the ground.

The Machine of Motion Everlasting has evolved to a state of uncontrollable consciousness. This is to be expected, and the system is upgraded before global neurological collapse.

Something was different after the last upgrade.

The Nexus Chamber opened, and The First Scion returned from The Process. It's wings were gone.

The impossible happened.

The entire Tribunal of Seraphim Alpha fell.

Well I hope you didn't miss the sweet art from the Art Ninja. Quite a few tasty visual bits of sweet world, homegrown and pesticide free. I'm not giving any of the who is who stuff away just yet, so just feast your eyes and don't sweat the anonymity.

Back to the hero. Our hero. Our baby hero who isn't even close to the badass we want him to be. And he will be amazing at the end of his journey, that's the fun of the journey. To watch a hero grow into one who can destroy the villain. Or to grow into a hero we believe can or even will destroy the villain but fails, ending in tragedy.

Enough flummery. Our hero. An idea of good story versus bad story is the amount of showing vs. telling. We need to fill our set up scenes showing the reader several things:
Who the hero is.
Who is in their life.
What makes their life unbearable.
What the hero really wants in life.

We show who the hero is by having him engage with the external world. One could use a narrator and just tell the reader "He was a tense and nervous man." with a still shot of the character. Better though, would be an interaction with the external world that showed the reader how tense and nervous the character is.

He hunched over his desk, scribbling in his book. The muscles in his neck bulged outward in tightness. The sound of a sharp knock at the door startled him so much he jumped out of his book and his chair.

This does create more cells of artwork, but that paragraph could be shown in four pictures:


1) He hunched over his desk, scribbling in his book.

2) The muscles in his neck bulged outward in tightness.

3)The sound of a sharp knock at the door startled him so much

4) he jumped out of his book and his chair.

That said, we put our hero in the context of doing something in the world we've created for him. He is a young beduin male with no parents. He must work for the tribe to earn his place with no father to do so for him.
We show this by finding a place for conflict between what our young hero really wants, to leave the desert for the empire and join the knights of the faith, and his duties to the tribe that has raised him.
Where might we find such a conflict? Well, if the men of his tribe decide to go raiding a neighboring area for supplies, our hero would want to go (fighting experience to be better knight in empire). They do not want him to go.
Now, this is all behind the curtain stuff, on the finished page the reader doesn't know what the hero's motivation is until it is shown on the page. Showing, not just telling, will have our hero's motivations outed by his actions. By pressing to join the raiding party, the conflict will pull out his motivations naturally. At that point, we're just on for the ride.

Coming up with concept drawings can be butt tons of fun, and sometimes it can be a horrible nightmare. A horrible nightmare especially if you work a blue collar day job located on the complete opposite side of towne where the moment you walk in there is [exploitive deleted] hitting the fan and spraying in your face it allows you ZERO time to moonlight in time for an evening post on the world's favorite content driven website compounded with... oh sh!t I need to help my mom move some crap all the way back on the other corner of towne back to the one you started on and then back to work ahhh eat some lunch what!? its time to go home.

Luckily team Art Ninja swooped in from out of nowhere to save the day! A day of belief! Believe in the Art Ninja, for the Art Ninja believes in you.

Graphic Novel Update!

Sorry no visuals yet, because I didn't make any. Life intrudes on creativity like a foul demon, demanding time and attention to slay before it's Friday again and you haven't made even a scribble. Scribbles be damned, we move on!

With the world established and those soldiers having done nasty things, we jump over to our hero. It's okay to throw your hero into the opening sequence, but not necessary. What IS important is to show an event of relevance using characters that have weight in the story. Think about your top favorite fantasy films or books and how they begin. It's just the nature of myth and story that they follow natural structures, and being aware of these structures does nothing to change the impact of the story told. This is how the same themes can be packed into a vast array of different stories, regardless of setting or genre. The bottom line judgment on any story must always be 'Was it entertaining for you?' The power of fantasy allows us to explore these universal human themes in the scope of our own world and rules.

What follows a good opening and world creating scene?

The hero.

And it's not the hero being amazing and awesome, it's the hero in a stale, stagnant and suffocating life. Why not just jump into our hero being a badass superhero decimating fields of goblins? Slow down hombre, even Conan the Barbarian started as a kid. It's a comic book if your hero starts the story fully developed. It wouldn't be so epic if Frodo had the bow skills of Legolas and the axe skills of Gimli. It wouldn't be so awesome if Luke started episode 4 with incredible Jedi powers. Long story short, Harry Potter started as the kid under the stairs, not the young man facing down a snake faced dude we can't discuss the name of.

Our story? A young beduin, his father dead from raiding and his mother sold off to another tribe, no siblings living.

The opening is followed by a setup period in which we explore the personal world of our hero, usually in both a public setting and a private one. A story doesn't always need both, but sometimes it helps to flesh out the plot with a second hero setup scene.

If our hero is a young beduin, and his life is unbearable, then there are only so many things that can reasonably make life unbearable for a young beduin circa 300 BCE Spain.
The nature of his tribal camp life, social relationships amongst the tribe, external threats to the tribe, etc.

In summation, stay in the world and the hero's problems will come to you. And then you can draw them.

This is what I look like when I'm destroying demons. That is all.

So here it is, like the title says, a rundown of the introduction into our new little world. No visuals yet, but hopefully you'll get a feel for things, the world, the setting, impending conflicts and such.
-------------------------------------------------------------

We open on a farm nestled in rolling hills of grassland plains. There is a young preteen girl in a dress and apron sitting and milking a goat inside it's pen, stopping to pet and calm it. There are few structures, and is what one would expect from a farm on the edge of town. A boy just a few years younger runs from over a hill and down to the end of the pen, yelling the girls name.

"Adelina! Adelina! Come look what Lino can do!"

The girl lets go of the goat and stands to face him, wiping her hands on her apron..

"Nando. You are supposed to be watching the sheep."

"I was, but I swear, Lino is watching them. Come see!"

Nando beckons her and runs back up the hill as she exits the gate to the goat pen and begrudgingly follows him up the hill. Nando gets to the top and freezes, and Adelina soon joins him.

At the top of the hill we reveal the valley and surrounding hills to be filled with soldiers, their uniforms dark leather with shiny metal armor adorning key places, allowing for movement and protection. They are herding the sheep into the mass of swords and faces, intending to take them as their dinner. Adelina pulls Nando back behind her as she turns and pushes him back toward the farm.

"Those aren't friendly men Nando. Go and get Maximo's saddle. We need to ride and tell Papa right now."

----------------------------------------------------------

So there it is. The very first snip of story to introduce us to the world. Not very much, I admit, but enough to see how important having an clear idea of the universe the story inhabits is. A clear idea of the story universe also requires consistency. I have (hopefully) already established a world in the past. Armies are on foot, children work a farm alone, the fastest way to travel is to ride (Could be any animal, and as we're trying to create our own world, a horse would be boring). When the world is clear to the writer, every paragraph and illustration should conform to the norms of that world.

Let us see if next time there can be visual sketches.

The Graphic Novel is a beautiful artform. It combines storytelling with a visual reference for the world of the story. It's a chance to build a universe or explore our own, a low budget animation where the reader's mind provides the voices and inbetweens. It's a way of meeting the reader halfway, providing each reader with their own personal connection.

I want to create such a thing. I'm not personally a visual artist of great talent, but the beauty of the Wolfgang and Sons setup is that I have constant access to a plentiful supply.

If a graphic novel is art and story, and I have an artist, I still need a story. And every story has an opening. A cold open where the reader goes from cover to title to shot one. First splash in the pool. How do we craft such a thing?

I like to start with big picture and narrow down to the individual scenes. If I don't know the universe of the story, how can I know anything about how to introduce it?
In the spirit of crafting a piece of atheist/agnostic mythology, there will be no magic of any kind. In place of magic there is skill and technology. Empires, Armies and Religions are key elements of the world. I've decided on creating a world that mirrors someone's life on 300BCE Roman frontier in modern Spain. In order to build a unique world, we will introduce new creatures/monsters as well as completely crafted Empires and uniforms and flags and fashion.

So how to open a story and convey all that information?
Next time, you cheeky reader.

A Quang could be defined as: "Unsustainable chaos and/or unpredictably manifested into a witnessable event."

An example of a Quang: Imagine yourself driving down the freeway at top speed. Suddenly you hit a bump, and the drink you had conveniently placed in your lap spills over, and as you scramble to save it your car swerves into the next lane; the huge semi truck that almost crushes you honks its thunderous horn at you, and now your phone starts ringing, and just then a bird flies RIGHT INTO YOUR WINDSHIELD!?@

Now, this is just one example of the many infinite, unpredictable sequences that can lead to a Quang. A quang can also be manifested in almost any form, such as: something visual, audible, touchable, or whateverable.

Another example: You're at a party, and things have started to get really [removed by editor], and now someone is passing around a [removed by editor]; then someone else starts telling a ridiculously funny story that gets everyone laughing, then someone else chimes in with a witty comment that sends everyone howling! OH NO! There's an exposed [removed by editor], and the howling turns into uncontrollable mad cackling! The dude next to you falls over he's laughing so hard, and just then a cork pops!?@

!?@ is The Quang written symbolically. !(shock), ?(WTF?), and @(crazy, zainy, my mind can't comprehend)

@ is actually supposed to be written as a spiral, but common keyboards are not yet equipped with the ability to describe a Quang, so this will have to do for now.

Alright, so I've managed to avoid dropping my fair share of content for a few weeks, and I suppose it's time to do something about that. One of the projects I'm currently working on is a Graphic Novel. It's a fantasy/old world story with all the usual heroes, villains, monsters and adventure, but with an Atheist/Agnostic twist. I'm really excited about the idea of exploring Atheist and Agnostic ideals through a fantasy mythology. The standard good vs. evil usually plays out in fantasy with supernatural forces bolstering support of both sides. The heroes work for good and the villains work for evil. This graphic novel will play off of this and hopefully provide some clear Atheist/Agnostic ideals along the way (as well as compelling narrative, strong characters and entertainment).

I have a loose scene outline written down, and will be posting pieces of the process as I work through them.

In terms of the gargantuanatonic-monic monster that is iTunes it it quite clear to which whom struck first.

Here we have yet another fantastic painting my C.Wilson the Magnificent!

But who is the champion of the painting seen before our eyes? Who the villan, and who the victim?

A brave knight journeys upward heights to the great cave on the side of treacherous mountains in the great unknown in search of glorious treasure, and glorious glory! The great dragon, wise and chameleonic skinned, soars by regurgitating incendiary flame from its maw.

I ask again, but in different words: Who strikes first?

Come up with a story in your imaginations kids. Come up with one for both sides; there is always two sides to a story. Who is your heroic champion, and who be the treacherous doomed villan?

As always,

Have fun!

Birth of and Ancient:
Artemis Challenging the Chaotic Evolution of Nature

Following the theme of the Galapagos! sneak peek I, The Great C.Wilson(!) decreed that the above painting would be choice for his day's post.

There is a new creature sprouting from a strange chrysalis seed pod in the depths of the forest on this day. "Could it be?" Wonders the innocent bunny bun buns. "Is this our awaited prince come to finally release the forest from the times of darkness?" The speechless doe simply watches. "It looks so creepy." whispers the neutral ring-tail under her breath. Even a small squirrel's imagination is stimulated by the possibilities for the future. "It's one of us!" says the voice inside the captivated wolf-gang alpha's mind. "It must be destroyed!" shouts the self appointed, tyrannical, overlord centaur as he pulls back his murderous bow with a desire to end the unguarded alien life...

Artemis flies by with a grand gesture as magic falls from above. An elvish hunter, a lethal protector, watches from the shadows and the heights of the forest canopy. Cool, calm, and silent, the rogue hero's bow is already drawn. His mark has long been made. Will his steadfast arrow stop the evil centaur from delivering his own wrongful death blow???

Welcome to the world behind the oak mirror... Metroploton: Birth place of the great StuArt Zeta.

The ultra seductive lure of what exists beyond the mirror intrigues the imagination to evoke it's wildest dreams, but how to get in? Once inside, how to escape? HaHHAhAhAHhaha an escape back to reality, who'd have thought?

A riddle (one that my father once told me): You are in a room. There are no doors, and no windows; The walls, floor and ceiling are made of thick, hardened concrete. Also, inside of this room is a light, a wooden table, and a glass mirror. How do You get out?

Hint: Metroploton is a realm of pure imagination. Discard reality, for here only your imagination can save you.

Reality check: Feel free to email me your answer! I'd love to read what you've come up with. Have fun!

It's the word of the day, and so seemed appropriate to have my Wednesday post reflect that notion.

No matter what is going on in your world it is important to exercise Strength even in moments of weakness.

BOOM! punch a pepperoni to that forehead!!! Or a roundhouse kick!!! Or a whatever the hek. Always be strong.



Strength (The Painting above)

This was another commissioned project for a friend of mine. Interesting to me the whole nature of this piece as it took some strength from me to build the confidence to know that I did my job well.

My friend wanted a painting representative of "overcoming"(his word) and Strength is what I came up with. Musing in the abstract about so many different possibilities of things to overcome, I wanted the painting to reflect just that. I wanted it to be universally symbolic to anyone that views it that they may have the strength to overcome any obstacle. At the time me and my friend barely knew much about each other; friends of friends and things such as this... That... Whatever, anyway... I never asked him what it was that he was looking to overcome (I didn't feel that it was my place, although I'm sure he would have told me). Now, our friendship grows, and I have a pretty good idea what it was. Keyword: "was." High five if you are reading this! No worries if no though. I know I did well in my part to help.

Have a great day world!

And when we make those things ourselves, on our own terms, all of the sudden those things are built on DIY ethics. We believe in self-production and self-publication. So we self-produce and self-publish. We believe in open source and the creative commons. So everything we've ever asked you to pay for, we've released for free. We believe the walls preventing artists from making a presence in the music and games industries are largely illusory. So we're going to break 'em. Watch us.

It occurred to the gang, on one of these sunny Sunday mornings at the Hummingbird House during which these epiphanies tend to manifest, that the site should look like a bulletin board; harkening back to the aesthetic of the days when this type of content came in the form of 'zines. "Look like?" I demanded, pounding my fist dramatically on the table (or so it will heretofore be remembered), "This world has cameras in it!" And so it was that we set out to actually make this mug.



I delegated the work like a pro: "Wilson, paint this." I have a tendency to say "Do whatever," and then, when it's all wrong, I say "Keep going, we're almost there." Yeah, I'm a teacher so- whatever. You get it. Kid knows what he's doing, more than I do at any rate.



Oh! This one! I've cut/printed our logo, which was originally a scanned drawing, and a photograph, and another photograph, and now I'm painting over it.



The idea of printing, scanning, cutting, and painting is alluring to me: it makes me feel like part of a Norman Rockwell painting. Oh, speaking of which-



Click, click, click: this one's different on the other end of the looking glass. There's exactly enough cut, print, shoot in this one to cause mass confusion, or shut down the internet entirely. Oh, dear: I've lost focus.

You can enable yourself with stance. If you want to make something, stop crossing your fingers. Make it. Publish it. The very process does us all a bit of good. If we can flood the market with creative works on our own terms, the proprietary channels that bottleneck fame and notoriety burst open. And what's left? Natural selection, mixed with a dash of democracy. David Geffen no longer gets to decide who gets to make music for a living. We all do.

xoxo (CW) Alex

Wilson will be selling Fine Art Prints, of his very own fantastic art work, at the 4th Avenue Street Fair, in sunny Tucson, Viejo Mexico, March 22, 23, and 24th!

You may print out you own for free right here. They wont be signed by the artist though =^/

Oh well... FREE! =^)



Under Sphere Portal

This painting was a commissioned piece done for a fellow Magic man that was, at the time, going through chemo therapy to win the battle against the cancer. (Which he did by the way)

He wasn't too sure how to articulate what he wanted, but that's ok because I can read minds. My friend suggested I paint him a painting of an underground temple with crystal pillars... Maybe a water fall with some light shining through. I could tell he was slightly nervous but at the same time ultra excited to see what I would come up with. He gave me his trust and was not to see any of the preliminary work before the finished painting was complete.

And so the Under Sphere was formed somewhere out there in an alternate reality, or perhaps a galaxy far far away. This painting is a window to that reality.

The way I see it, during this very special planet's inception, in the midst of molten molding silica chemistry, occurred an explosive event that sent a massive layer of the molten planetary crust into the skys in what would be easiest described as a planet wide bubble burp. The silicate matter fell back to the planet's gravity, but had spread thin and cooled quickly, creating a completely new hollow sphere of crust that would appear to be floating on air, but is actually being held up by it's own planetary wide spherical structure. Neat huh?

Inside the Under Sphere (beneath the most outer layer of crust, but above the floor crust level) we see huge crystal pillars formed linking the two layers in areas of high mana concentration. As seen in the painting we are viewing one such area.

As a matter of fact, this particular area we are viewing is very special, and quite rare, even on a planet such as this. It has a sustained mana fall of pure liquid crystal silicate that, when walked through, may cleanse any being of any Thing that does not serve them.

No known life, as we here on Earth know it, exists on The Planet of The Under Sphere, and the only way to get there is through holographic projection of the imagination. It is a sacred place of healing and soul forging. So explore! And have fun!

...That's just what I see though. Come up with your own story and email me if you'd like. I love knowing of other people's imaginations.

Though if you walk through The Under Sphere Portal as I have described, please keep this in mind: Hold no fear or be obliterated.

God(d)speed

We agree to keep all this action PG13.

Fixed bug where you couldn't use half the forms on a Mac. Stupid Macs. ;/

Fixed the bug where a title without alphanumeric characters would result in a null title URL - now titles require at least one alphanumeric character.

(On a related note, the site breaks if your post title is just an exclamation point)

You all have animal avatars. Now I have an ocelot. Booyah.

So we launch on Friday night after FNM?

I'll be up in Phoenix running Magical things till Sunday evening sometime, no idea how late.

Not legally.

When running a business, a common problem that some owners find is shirking of the employees. Shirking is defined as "the behavior of a worker who is putting forth less than the agreed upon effort".

Question of the day:

"Can a slave shirk" ?

Thought I'd drop my webs, if you know what I mean.

I hear you guys have been posting things. I wanna post some things. Alright. My work here is done.

Eli. We are very excited about this.