My original painting Maniac is at a special price right now over at the Creep Machine store, in addition to all the creepy, b-movie inspired originals on sale. I don’t know how long the sale is going on so don’t miss out.

Plus, Creep Machine has a nicer, cleaner look for the new year.

I’ve been selfishly wearing one of these necklaces for over a month now, but it’s finally available in the store. Handmade, of course.

Not to mention the shop’s been re-redone. Yay! Oh, I guess I just mentioned it.

AND If you’re in Chicago, and happen to stop by the awesome Renegade Handmade store, you’ll find some of my prints there. I’m so excited to be a part of that place, you have no idea. This is the 3rd store to carry my work. Razorberries is slowly taking over Illinois!

I’m currently working on applying to shows and art fairs around the country and looking for similar stores like Renegade.

2009 is the year of the ox, just like 1985, the year of my birth. 9 is my favorite number. If that’s not a sign to get shit done this year, I don’t know what is.

Happy New Year!

Dear 2008,

You started out like every year, fresh and full of hope. Like a blank sketchbook.

Each day was like filling a page with drawings, photos, and writing. At the end of the day I could look over the page and see how the day was spent.

Sometimes it was a good day, the page was practically completing itself. Sometimes the day really sucked, the page was full of scribbles and felt useless. But no matter how the page would end, there was always a new one to turn to.

Good bye, 2008, I’m pretty sure it’s been nice knowing ya.

Today we’re on the last page of this book, and can start a fresh new one tomorrow. I hope when you look back on your sketchbook, you will find you’ve had more good pages than bad. And for every bad page you’ve had, you’ll have two more good ones to make up for it.

Hope is a funny thing, and anyone alive has it.

I put a red blindfold over this boy’s eyes. He could be looking straight ahead, or down at the ground, but that’s not the point. The point is, he’s pulling what he has to get out of the dirt and as long as he has his blindfold, he doesn’t see all the dirt even though he feels it’s there.

If you lose your blindfold, it’s easy to get caught up in the dirt. In the most extreme case, get buried in it.

That’s all I’m willing to admit.

I really hate explaining my drawings, unless I’m asked. Even then, I sometimes rather not explain it, depending on the drawing/person asking. My work is always personal, but sometimes it only becomes personal during the illustration process, when I’ve been thinking about its’ aspects, and it all starts to relate. I may even change things in my drawings, like hair color, eye color, skin color, clothes, sex, to dispose of any evidence that can traced back and someone will figure it out completely. But no matter what I do, it will always be traced back to me somehow because I’m the one who illustrated this work. Those who know me best, know that I’m very sentimental and that reflects on everything I do.

Aramas asked a good question: How do you define your life? In other words, what’s keeping you from getting lost in the dirt?

Presents for the ones who were nice. I had way too much fun wrapping these.

Each time I add a darker wash to layers, it creates an illusion of shadow and depth. It’s like I’m digging into the paper with a brush to create a indentation even though I’m actually building layers on top of layers. That’s one of my favorite things about using watercolors. Also the major ones on the list are:

Afterglow prints all numbered, signed, and pretty on my new paper-trimmer.

I’m trying to get over a nasty cold while half of me is on fire and the other half is freezing right now. I went through a box of tissues in a day. Times like this I wish I had cable television and since I don’t, I just continue working. And exploring sites like Engrish.com and Fail Blog. But nothing says “I care” like your husband in the doorway with a bouquet of roses and a 4-pack of tissue boxes. I’m wearing his hoodie and clutching my second box of tissues, because not only does it provide temporary relief, but is also the perfect fashion accessory.

“There may be a great fire in our soul, yet no one ever comes to warm himself at it, and the passers-by see only a wisp of smoke.”

- Vincent Van Gogh

I know, I said it would be a while before I show the whole painting but I’m still not sure about the edition size. I’ve never done a limited edition so I may just start off the new year with one. January is not too far away. I made a proof print to make sure the colors are just right and it looks awesome on 11″x14″ watercolor paper. Looks just like the original. But how many should there be? Because once they’re gone, that’s it. I really like how this turned out so I want to make sure I make the right decision.

I went from wanting to update everyday to developing a slight fear of updating the blog altogether. I mean, if I’m quiet for a week, I better have something good to show. Then another week goes by. And another. And here I am with almost nothing. The combination of the holidays, my job, and the cold is driving me crazy. I feel like I should be hibernating. Do fish hibernate?

Anyway, the image above is a closeup preview of a painting I finished this week, it’s something I’ve thought about for a long time. I’m also working on my very first limited edition print of it. What’s a good edition size? I’m considering 50. The whole image will be revealed when all the prints are created. Scanning, printing, numbering, signing, and packaging is all being done by hand, and I only have two of those so they should be ready by the end of this month.. unless I develop narcolepsy or something.