Shantala Robinson's Illustration Blog

Breastfeeding

2011-10-04T12:16:00.000-07:00

This was for an issue of Briarpatch magazine. The author discussed the idea that though breastfeeding is admired by the general public and recommended by those in the medical profession, there are still economic and practical difficulties faced by breastfeeding women. There is something very hypocritical about the way society puts breastfeeding on a pedestal- it has an almost magical feminine power- but fails to support mothers who want to breastfeed.

Protesters

2011-10-04T12:10:00.000-07:00

The Elephant in the Window

2011-09-12T23:15:00.000-07:00

This is for the GoBananas Illustration blog (http://gobananasillustration.blogspot.com/) . It basically shows why this child didn't get her homework done. Elephant. Go figure.

So I'm trying a new style here. I guess it's not entirely new, but it doesn't follow my usual M.O. I'm not 100% happy with it. Probably closer to 40% happy, 50% unhappy, and 10% undecided.

Promo

2011-07-04T17:06:00.000-07:00

So I'm working on creating some promotional materials that I can send out to publishers. I decided to do a series of bookmarks featuring famous illustrators. And before you ask, no, I'm not sending out promos for my competitors. These bookmarks depict illustrators who reached far beyond the hoi polloi to achieve rare fame and fortune. To BE an Edward Gorey, that's the dream. But I'm certainly happy enough just trying to get work doing what I love. Hence the promos.

Anatomically Correct

2011-06-07T14:05:00.000-07:00

Above, you can see a depiction of more great athletes. Doing this illustration, I learned that it is beneficial if swimmers have large hands and feet. Like flippers. It's also good if they are taller. Not only do tall people have a reach advantage, they also have a larger mass (or something, sorry to any physicists who may read this) to keep them afloat.

What anatomical qualities make a good artist? Strong hands, maybe. Perhaps a wide back for all the slouching we do. And big, round eyes, to take it all in. Quasimodo? No! An artist! Now when people comment on my large, man-like hands, I'll have a response. They'll say, "Oh what large hands you have". And I'll reply, "All the better to draw you with, my dear."

Migrant Worker Blues

2011-05-31T15:06:00.000-07:00

This illustration is about a news article I read here: http://thetyee.ca/News/2011/05/11/MexicanUnionBusting/

In short, it's about migrant workers fighting to be able to unionize on BC farms. The workers are trying to unionize, the Mexican government is throwing up obstacles- according to the article, anyways. My illustration mixes its metaphors, but there are just so many to choose from. The fight for workers' rights is ancient, and there is a lot of imagery to go along with it. Think of the revolutions, Che Guevara, guilds, secret fraternities... the issue is ripe with amazing design, symbols, posters, logos, etc. I suppose workers' rights are just that fundamental. You don't need to read a language to know what the hammer and sickle stand for. Unless you've never harvested a crop or hammered a nail. If not, lucky you.

Ultramarathon Man

2011-05-30T12:01:00.000-07:00

I entered this image to a contest. Entrants had to depict one out of a list of Canadian athletes. I picked Ray Zahab, an ultramarathoner. He also does, you know, some motivational speaking, personal training, taking part in charitable runs, raising awareness for environmental and other issues. In 2005, he placed first in the Sahara Race: a six-day, 250-kilometer footrace across the Sahara Desert. What does that mean? A normal marathon is 42.195 km, or 26 miles. So that's basically a marathon a day, by my calculations. I can't imagine the endurance required for such a feat.

But that's not even the most peculiar thing about Ray Zahab. Forget the physical part of it, as incredible as it is. He used to smoke a pack a day. Then he made a decision not to do that any more. He ran instead. So simple, right? I wonder what gives some of us the tenacity to stick to it, reach that pinnacle of achievement that is so rare? What makes some of is reach our goals and some fall short?

A Whale of a Surprise

2011-05-09T20:14:00.000-07:00

Imagine that...

Life Drawing

2011-05-02T10:35:00.000-07:00

A quick update today. I spent Sunday morning (and part of the afternoon), in a life drawing class. It was a long pose, so I took the time to do some painting. The painting wasn't great, but it's not about the final product, it's about the process: fun, frantic, and somewhat frustrating. In the end, it feels like I've done some real work, the work I am meant to be doing. Can't ask for more than that.

Cinderall in India

2011-04-17T08:52:00.000-07:00

The first in a series of illustrations about the Indian Cinderella.

Bologna Children's Book Fair

2011-04-05T15:02:00.000-07:00

Last week I went to the Bologna Children's Book Fair. What an excuse to get away to Italy! It was quite a new experience for me. And for the first day, I was happy to just take it all in. Here are some shots from the fair.

The entrance to the fair.

One of the many giant conference halls, with rows of publishers. You can't really tell from the photo how enormous the space is. But it's huge.

A wall provided for illustrators to post up their images, business cards, posters, and other collectible things. There were three long walls like this, and they were all crammed with images.

A display of amazing artwork from Lithuanian illustrators, who were the special guests this year.

Comfort

2011-03-15T16:56:00.001-07:00

When times are hard, when the clouds seem a little more grey, the room feels more empty, and the road a little rougher, it's good to have a friend.

Bjork

2011-03-08T14:28:00.000-08:00

This is supposed to be Bjork. I wanted the illustration to reflect the weirdness of Bjork's music videos. There's so much out there that is so ordinary and formulaic, but not Bjork.

Looking into Puddles

2011-02-15T20:45:00.000-08:00

We've been having a lot of rain during the past couple days here in Vancouver. To me, rainy days are less gloomy when you're outside than when you're inside. Not that there's anything wrong with curling up to watch a movie on rainy days, but going outside on days like this alleviates the dreariness. The light is filtered through the clouds and mist, and colours pop against the greyness; the bracing air can't help but revive dull spirits. I like to watch children in the rain; they don't seem to feel the rain like adults do. I don't know why this is, but they make it seem like fun.

Ban Ki-Moon

2011-02-08T21:42:00.000-08:00

This is a quick portrait of Ban Ki-Moon, current Secretary-General of the UN. They say his demeanour is "Confucian". He has a kind face, and so I've portrayed him as some illustrators (from very long ago) portrayed Confucius. A politician with a modest and humble bearing? I think that's pretty special.

Nabokov

2011-02-01T20:14:00.000-08:00

I recently read an article about how Vladimir Nabokov was not only a writer but also a lepidopterist (aka one who studies moths and butterflies). He studied in great detail a butterfly called the Kerner Blue, and had a theory that these butterflies migrated from Russia over the Bering Straight in great waves and moved on into the new world this way (as opposed to being carried into different continents via shifting of land masses over millions of years ). Anyways, Nabokov was laughed out of the science lab by other scientists- until now, when DNA studies have shown that this is indeed true.

Nabokov himself was a migrant- he and his family had to flee their homeland in Russia when the revolution began. Unluckily, they fled to Berlin- not a good choice in those early decades. So, finding himself forced to move again, Nabokov wound up in the New World- more specifically, Harvard, where he was a curator at the Museum of Comparative Zoology and also wrote some novels, which is really his claim to fame. (But not nearly as interesting as this whole butterfly thing, I find.)

It's All Black and White

2011-01-20T22:29:00.000-08:00

Actually, it's all shades of grey, if I'm being accurate.

A boy in a paper sailboat, for my children's book portfolio. It's a novel thing for me to work in grey scale, but really important for my portfolio (or so I've been told). I'm not sure if it's ready to go up on my website, though, and I may do some more work on it.

I think it's obvious that this has been inspired by the art in "Where the Wild Things Are." I suppose it's an homage. (In elementary school, our class had to memorize and recite that book during an evening assembly. We had a visionary music and drama teacher who coordinated massive performances a few times a year with the whole school, from kindergarten to grade 6. The themes of these performances ranged from the Olympics to Ghostbusters and there were choirs, instruments, marches, dances and plays, all flowing in dramatic fashion from one thing to the next. We used to get so excited and looked forward to these events with such anticipation. After I left, I heard that music and drama was fazed out and the teacher that caused such inspiration left the school. I wish Mrs. Green could have known how much she gave me; I wish I could have thanked her.)

A Murder of Crows

2011-01-14T20:32:00.000-08:00

I've been reading lately in the news about birds that seem to fall dead out of the sky. Whole flocks of them, all over the world. There are many scientific and supernatural explanations. Omens, some say. The end of the world! No, it was fireworks that disoriented the birds! They flew straight into the ground, by George!

I feel sad for the birds. Either way, they don't seem to have masters of their own destinies. I like to think perhaps they just decided it was time to go. Maybe they had a purpose of their own.

Slumdog Avoidance

2011-01-11T09:26:00.000-08:00

I read an article about how a new generation of Indians is refusing to accept the status quo. They throw off the restrictions of the caste they were born into and enter the rapidly growing Indian economy as key players. It's a new kind of optimism; instead of hoping for the best, things are made better. Personally speaking, it's a good note on which to start the new year.

Christmas Mailer

2010-12-10T16:36:00.000-08:00

When I was a little girl...

2010-11-29T23:39:00.000-08:00

My dad once told me a crazy story. He grew up in Fiji, had seven brothers and sisters and they would ride a horse to school every day. Well, some of them rode the horse. I suppose not all of them.

While doing research into imagery of children on horses, I found out about the Mongolian festival Naadam, which includes children's horse racing. Children from age 6-13 train as jockeys for months before the festival, then take part in a race that is 15-30km long, depending on their age (the horses' ages, not the child's). The children sing to the horses as they ride.

Quite a contrast between my dad and his siblings riding to school and a Mongolian child on a marathon race through the desert. But then again, children will always be children and horses will always be horses.

Beans, beans. My cow for some beans.

2010-11-16T00:00:00.000-08:00

This is the first in the series, which I completed second to last.

Here, the old beggar tricks Jack into giving him a cow in exchange for some "magic" beans. What is this fairy tale trying to tell us? It surely isn't a warning against stupidity. A nod to blind faith and belief in the unbelievable?

See Jack Run

2010-11-10T00:12:00.000-08:00

And here depicts Jack running from the giant.
I made him look a little bratty on purpose. He's no hero. It's a weird fairy tale. Two more image to go...

Climbing, Always Climbing

2010-11-07T23:11:00.000-08:00

Second image in my Jack and the Beanstalk series. Tried to keep it simple, and focus on shapes. Fun to do, thinking about a bean plant that climbs into the sky. But as I researched into bean plants, I realized that they are vine-like, and climb only when they have something to climb. So how was this beanstalk climbing? What was pulling it up? I struggled with that a bit in my image, until I remembered that I was forgetting about an element integral to this story and children's stories in general: magic. Ah, yes, that old magic. Ta-da!

How the Mighty are Falling

2010-10-26T13:10:00.000-07:00

This is part of a series I am doing for the Bologna Children's Book Fair illustration competition. The story here is Jack and the Beanstalk, and alas, the poor giant (whose has been repeatedly robbed by the merciless Jack) is falling from the stalk that Jack just cut down. Do I feel sympathy for the giant? Yes. Should I? That's a question for a different blog, I think.

Things That Go Bump In the Night

2010-10-18T11:14:00.000-07:00

I'm the Illustrator Coordinator for the Canada West chapter of the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) and I've been organizing a group blog. The idea of this blog is that a bunch of us illustrators will illlustrate upon a theme each month. This month, the theme is Hallowe'en and we all had the task of illustrating the phrase, "Things that go bump in the night".

You can check out our blog here: http://gobananasillustration.blogspot.com/
There's some really neat illustrations up already and more to come!

Volunteer Project with Children

2010-09-27T08:29:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, I volunteered at the Starlight Foundation Walk and Run for Smiles, a fundraiser for sick kids and their families in BC.
At the walk, I facilitated an art project in which kids made a giant tree out of recycled materials. It was a lot of fun for me watching how inventive and naturally artistic children are. The photos above don't quite do it justice, but the colours and the shapes they used gave me some great inspiration for my own art. I don't spend a lot of time around kids, but I amazed by their humour and honesty. I'd love to do this again!

Wedding cats

2010-09-20T16:08:00.001-07:00

A wedding portrait for my friends.

Patient-centred Health Care

2010-05-18T10:17:00.000-07:00

Chinese Investment in Alberta Oil

2010-05-03T23:04:00.000-07:00

Pigeons

2010-04-26T23:37:00.000-07:00

Pill power

2010-04-26T20:02:00.000-07:00

Inspired by an article about The Pill. The pill is tied irrevocably to feminist history. It was central to the woman's movement of the sixties, and still remains a potent issue today.

Water footprint

2010-04-23T15:54:00.000-07:00

It takes way more than one pint of water to make a pint of beer. It's used for processing the ingredients, making the containers and labels and in shipping. This is called embedded water. It's a problem because we (the developed world) are taking water from developing countries- who often have very scarce water supplies- via the goods we import. The water table in China is dropping one metre a year, so they say.

Yikes. What does all this mean? It means that fighting over oil will become an absurdity. What we really want is a long, cool drink of water.

Piece out

2010-04-18T23:25:00.000-07:00

Circadian Rhythms (aka No, I can't Spring Forward)

2010-04-14T18:28:00.000-07:00

Yes, clockface. About our sleep patterns. There's something futuristic about the style of this, which I hadn't intended. I guess it fits the subject of my illustration, but talk about a happy coincidence.

Hotel Stars

2010-04-08T07:49:00.000-07:00

4? 5? 6? 7? How many stars makes a good hotel? What are the most number of stars you can get? The systems vary widely across the globe and recent announcements of 6 and 7-star hotels have broken through the historic 5 star ceiling. Where will this end?

Kremlin Kontrol

2010-04-04T23:38:00.000-07:00

This is for an article I saw about how the Putin has tight control over the media in Russia. In the case of the recent bombings in Moscow, mainstream news channels did not report on the event for over an hour, and they did not interrupt their regularly scheduled programs. The article was nonsensical because it did not attempt to explain why this might have happened, ie. to stop people from panicking. Actually, this was only one of the reasons why the article was ridiculous, which is horrible because it comes from a well-known American news magazine. Hooray for both the Russian and American media! Why then would I choose to illustrate such an article? Because St. Basil's is pretty, that's why.

Smallmouth Big Problem

2010-03-30T21:39:00.000-07:00

Toxins on the floor

2010-03-01T23:08:00.000-08:00

So I'm trying to come up with a good illo style to market myself. This should be:

a) distinctive, original and easy to recognize
b) quick and easy for me to produce
c) a style that reproduces well in print
d) something that comes naturally to me and maximizes my strengths

This is a lot harder to than you might imagine. When I graduated from school, I thought that I had found a so-called style, but I was never happy with it.

So, I'm on a mission, and I will be posting a bunch of images.

So, forward! Forward, not backward, upward, not forward, and always, twirling, twirling towards freedom. As they say.

2010-02-02T18:04:00.000-08:00

Coffee shop Blues

2010-01-25T21:40:00.000-08:00

Sometimes when you look through a window, you can see the reflection of whatever is behind you as well as what's in front. Two images are blended together. This makes me wonder- does space really exist? I mean, if something's happening in front of you AND behind you at the same time, and it is the exact same thing occurring, then what does it matter WHERE it's happening? Is there a tiny world happening inside of the narrow pane of glass? Or maybe I'm really questioning time. And then how do I paint this? How does one paint space and time? And should we? Dare we? Will we anger the gods? Perhaps someone already has, and got sucked into a vaccum because they realised that time and space don't exist and if you don't believe in something, you cannot possibly exist in it. It would be "Eureka!", swiftly followed by a "poof!" and perhaps a shower of particles. So ultimately, we'll never know if someone did or did not paint time and/or space. And, no thanks, I don't want to try either.

Robins

2009-11-09T20:55:00.000-08:00

A cut out technique.

See no hate

2009-10-27T23:18:00.000-07:00

Back after a long absence. Thinking of this new style of illustration on the computer. Quick n' easy.

Cuz I Been Lazy Lately

2009-08-06T21:54:00.000-07:00

Freedom: Just Some People Talking

2009-07-14T23:13:00.000-07:00

This was inspired by lyrics to the Johnny Cash song, "Desperado": "And freedom, oh freedom. Well that's just some people talking." When he sings that in his warbling, gravelly voice, Cash seems to me to be slaving away at the heart of humanity, attempting to uncover some nugget of truth. He seems to me to sing reluctantly, every note drawn forth with great pain from his soul. I gather from this that he knew what he was talking about. Nothing good ever comes easy, right?

So, freedom? Do we really want freedom? It's pretty clear that children and teens need rules, structure, actions and consequences. I doubt this changes much for adults. We like to pretend that freedom is something we want, probably a direct result of getting older and gaining independence. But why then do we try so hard to make plans? Why do we seek a solid future and make goals stepping so neatly towards them? Are we really, as Cash said, a bunch of Desperados? Do we deceive ourselves that we live unfettered, picking from amongst unlimited choices? Is this an illusion necessitated by our forced entry into adulthood? Don't we really yearn for meaning amid the chaos of choice? I think this is why we have horoscopes, fortune cookies, signs, and omens: our very last grasp at an omnipotent authority. "Well," we have the comfort of saying, "It was meant to be." Fate? Destiny? Freedom. Yup, just some people talking.

2009-06-03T00:02:00.000-07:00

Well. here is my idea for my summer mailer: "Heat Wave." Computer-generated. These three people are not smiling. As a side note, I would like to take issue with people who do not smile. Why not? I know many people who do not smile, ever, and name them as amongst my friends. In fact, I am drawn to people who do not smile. It's a confidence thing. Not smiling says, "I have power over you, I don't give a crap what you think about me, and I don't need to please you in any way under the sun." But I smile all the time, even (and especially) at strangers. Is it a meekness thing? Why do I want to appear friendly to every one I encounter? Harmless. Perhaps I aim to please the gods. If I smile enough at strangers, surely this will in turn tempt the gods to favour me. I am nice, therefore please respond in kind. Or do the powers-that-be bestow grace upon those who fight for their right? And not just to party, but to subjugate all those around them.

Well, thank-you for your patience with my self-cross-examination. As always, I remain your forever cyberspace friend.

p.s. added a more finished version above

It's Cryin' Time Again

2009-05-19T20:35:00.000-07:00

JK Rowling got her inspiration from somewhere. Some people speak of muses- you know, those divine sprits that gave inspiration to the artist. The Greeks many years ago started out with only three but I guess competition for their favours grew, and they discovered a whole bunch more. What I don't understand, is that there doesn't seem to be one for the visual arts. Sure, comedy, tragedy, poetry, song, dance and memory all have their guardians. But what about painting, carving, sculpting? Were these considered lesser arts? Were they too much of the worldly sphere? So here I am, a so-called visual artist, without a muse, drawing JK Rowling, who could pick from amongst Clio, Mneme, and Polymnia, among others. No fair! Except I do have one, I am certain. And I don't want to piss her or him off, so I have to not criticize. My muse lately has been encouraging me to do work on the computer, so here you see a digital piece. If it sucks, blame my muse. Just kidding. I love you, muse. Don't leave me! As you can see, it's a tense relationship. As soon as I get a bit angry or frustrated, my muse is out the door. Sometimes he skips town entirely and doesn't come back for weeks. He doesn't even tell me where he goes, but comes back with a tan and smells of the sea, and I get the feeling he's been cheating. When Ray Charles says "Oh, it's cryin' time again, you're gonna leave me. I can see that far away look in your eyes," I'm pretty sure he was talking about his muse. I understand totally. They make us cry. But we always take them back.

2009-05-12T10:15:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the long delay, cyberspace buddies. Internet outage. Here is the next piece for the salt fairy tale. I've jumped ahead a bit, as you can probably guess. What happens is the King chucks his youngest daughter out of the castle, and she becomes a maid, only to attend a ball where she meets and falls in love with a handsome prince. Yes, aligned stars and deserved fate at its finest. But I ask, does this ever really happen in real life? Probably not, that's why it's a fairy tale. And if it ever did happen in real life, we would never, ever recognize it for what it was. There's too much crap that happens in between. Say, an abused child escapes her family home and later finds true love. In what way are those two events connected? But these fairy tales say that it is so. And why is everyone so ready to forgive? And yet at other times there is no mercy or compassion shown to the old, ugly or infirm.

Any how, this piece shows the first dance between the prince and princess. I've used a handsome friend of mine as a model for the prince's face, which makes me laugh, because he would probably never have that expression on his face. But I enjoy basing the characters I draw on people in real life; it gives an extra dimension to the piece when I am creating it.

The Salt fairy tale. Perhaps even a true story.

2009-03-19T19:38:00.000-07:00

This is the first in a series of illustrations that will depict the fairy tale called "Cap O Rushes." Because this story came my way via my Romanian friend, and was told to her by her Romanian grandparents, I cannot fathom this story taking any place anywhere except for Romania. But it is an almost universal fairy tale, with version coming from England, Germany, Italy, Scotland and India. Perhaps this reflects the universal need for copious amounts of salt on our food? Although my Romanian friend would argue vociferously for this (which is why she loves this story), I say no thanks, please do not pass the salt. I myself like my food on the bland side and always forget to add salt when cooking, thereby disgusting my friends and family when I prepare meals for them. Which is why I rarely do that. Well, one of the many reasons. But I digress. The story is fine, and I will try to put together some kind of narrative illustrations that depict it.

The scene shows the King asking his three daughters to tell them how much they love him (some may say this shows controlling behaviour, but what is a king if not power-hungry?). While the first two daughters respond with the most sycophantic and dutifully servile answers, the third and youngest replies that she loves him merely, "As much as salt."

Ah! You understand the problem then. Why salt, that most lowly, peasantly combination of sodium and chloride?

Oh yeah, and I forgot to put the salt in. There's a reason for that, though, I don't hate salt that much.

Why so homeless?

2009-02-17T22:01:00.000-08:00

I am planning to do a project involving the homeless in Vancouver. This is a quick piece I did as sort of an experiment, which I will use as a guideline when it comes to doing the finals for the project. I want to capture the richness of Renaissance portraiture and the raw emotions of the German Expressionists. I say "want to" because I'm not sure if I can make that happen, but hell, why not shoot for the stars, right?

Slim in the Grass

2009-01-25T20:52:00.000-08:00

These are just to prove that I'm doing work- experimenting with using digital and traditional media. I'm trying to get used to all the options available to me when using the computer. But I'm also trying not to abandon the qualities that I feel define my work. don't want to get swamped in technical effects, I just want computer technology to expedite the execution of my work. Very time consuming stuff. Some would say boring and tiresome, and yet I feel the need to inflict this upon all of you. My apologies. But not really.

Scenes: 2

2009-01-05T11:52:00.001-08:00

Here are two paintings that I recently sold.

Conceding defeat...

2008-12-15T20:38:00.000-08:00

Ok, here is the computer generated image that I have experimented with. I should add that this is not the only one I messed around with, but it is the one that worked best. I think it kind of reflects what I try to do with my own fair hands in the real, physical world. But I basically did all this by hand, just assembled it on the computer. And it's pretty rough, but I think it turned out ok. I will continue on this path. I hope that it leads upward. Thanks everyone for the feedback and sorry for the nagging I gave everyone to look at my blog, dammit. Thanks.

Brains!! BRAINS!! BRIANS!! I MEAN, BRAINS!

2008-11-22T19:21:00.000-08:00

Spot illo for a mag. It is about brains. My question is do I start colouring on the computer? The art director liked my sketch better! I had just quickly filled in colours with Photoshop, and apparently, it was better than laboured painting and inking of two hours. The computer is taking over everything!! I am trying to make a last stand, a la The Matrix. Though I may discover I am merely part of a cycle. All this has happened BEFORE!! Spooky. I didn't get the Matrix, it was too complicated at the end. Give me Die Hard. Bruce Willis kicking butt. Yippee ki yay.

-------I posted the computer one at the top. Can you tell me which one is better????????????

Christmas shopping is intense

2008-11-07T18:56:00.000-08:00

A project

2008-11-02T12:54:00.000-08:00

So the economy is pretty bad. The hardest hit, as usual, will be the poor, the old, young and homeless. What's new, right?
Boring. Old hat. But incredibly, sadly, true. Vancouver's homeless situation is pretty bad. I feel like I want to try and do something about it.

Obama's Mama

2008-10-17T18:08:00.000-07:00

So apparently, when he was young, Barack Obama's mama and papa took him to live outside the country. This fact, combined with Obama's worldly charm and sophistication, have lead to Republican attacks on his "non-Americanness". Which to me is odd, seeing as how Obama went all over the world, and still came back to the States. I feel a guy like that must like it there, and perhaps wants to make it even better. Wouldn't that be preferable to someone who never left the country for extended periods? What if a President, newly in office, starts to travel, and realized, damn, I like it better in Spain? Or Iceland? Or India? And then abdicates? And then a country would lose its leader. And wouldn't that be a shame.

Predictable

2008-10-11T11:53:00.000-07:00

For an article about flu shots, and how the shot must defend against the particular strain that will be going around in the winter. If the prediction is wrong: disaster.
And the prediction must be made 8 months in advance.

Simple weather forecasters are often wrong. Let us hope that those in the medical profession have better crystal balls.

Cyndy's piece

2008-10-04T00:49:00.000-07:00

This image is for Cyndy.

Clean Ride

2008-09-25T23:17:00.000-07:00

A spot illustration for an article about a new bicycle sharing program in Montreal.
Sharing? What is this sharing? After decades of fighting over the biggest cars, hogging the road and fighting for parking space, can one learn to share again? What will the gods of consumerism think? What can they possibly make of all this? I, for one, don't think it can work- except if it's super cheap, which it seems to be. Plus, cars are just so expensive. I find the warm glow of sharing blossoming in my own heart. Yes, bicycle sharing, very good idea.

I Know What You're Thinking...

2008-09-21T23:59:00.000-07:00

So, the US army is developing mind control techniques. Seriously. They are trying to decipher electroencephalograms (those are the patterns sensors pick up from brain waves, of course) and developing ways to decipher these, and then transmit them to others. It would involve no speaking and the absolute silence of it all would be useful in the battlefield when giving orders. It would also, very handily, speed things up. The army insists that you have to be a willing participant and the project involves absolutely no kind of mind reading or mind control. They foresee no problems in that area. I mean, why would soldiers' minds be screwed up by this? It's not like soldiers ever suffered any mental trauma before. Surely having their thoughts transmitted far and wide, or hearing voices in their heads would not exacerbate any existing issues.

Your cheatin' oil

2008-09-12T21:59:00.000-07:00

This is for an article about US government watchdogs who were supposed to be monitoring oil companies but who were instead sleeping with oil company employees and taking bribes. The oil guys even let them stay over at their houses when they were too drunk to drive. Nice friends, good friends. But then they were caught being good friends. Uh oh.

Tivat is an interesting place.

2008-09-02T23:11:00.000-07:00

Tivat is a place near Montenegro. It is an old, old place, and was used variously over the years as the seat of a monastery, diosece, naval and army base. It was a base for trade for many years as well. It is currently being redeveloped and touted as the next Monaco. The naval base will be transformed into a luxury yacht marina. The rich must also have a playground. But are the rich boring people? I hope they keep some of the old naval stuff. I hope they don't make it a bunch of boring marinas and yachts. I'd hate that. Unless I myself had the biggest yacht there.

Avocado Conundrum

2008-08-21T00:06:00.000-07:00

Ah, there are so many things I could say about avocados, but I won't. Instead, I'll say this: the picture you see here, I don't believe is up to my own standards. But, since I had given myself the summer off, it's hard to get back into it. So what you see here is the visual equivalent of three months of frustration, learning, joy and anxiety. I'm not sure what to make of it myself. But, like a wise teacher once told me, "You must make bad art to make good art". So why am I posting it? Why am I inflicting this upon you? To prove the point. My next piece is going to kick ass. Or perhaps the one after that.

The Sleep of the Just

2008-05-13T12:18:00.000-07:00

So, my final thoughts on sleep: darkness is crucial to the endeavor, and I don't mean physical darkness, I mean a darkness of the soul. We talk about sleeping the sleep of the just, the innocent, the sleep of babes, but all this is just a cover. When we sleep, we let the dark and the chaotic in. Our thoughts become mad dreams. This is when we dance our frenzied rituals, sip from forbidden wells and make the ancient gods proud.

The Myth of Sleep

2008-04-15T21:00:00.000-07:00

Someone once told me this myth about the origins of sleep, and I will recount it you now, here.

There was, in the dim and dusty past, a gentle god who created the Earth and the people of the Earth. He made it so the people had shade on hot days, and cool water, mountains to climb, songs to listen to, and beauty to look at. He showered all his love onto them and his own happiness became entwined with theirs. Such was his love that he could not stop creating the people, one after another, until they flourished and populated all corners of the Earth. The other gods looked at his work and sighed with impatience, shaking their heads, jeering, believing that he would eventually ruin everything, to the destruction of the humans and himself. But there was one goddess of infinite beauty and patience who loved the god, and wanted to help him.

"My dear one," she said, "You must stop making new people, lest your world become too crowded. Either this, or you must rid the world of some of them."

"I know," said the god."But I've grown to know and understand each of them, and I hate to say goodbye. And yet I cannot give up the joy of making each and every unique soul."

"Well," the goddess replied, "If you cannot stop, then why not after some time, move each person to a different world where they can enjoy things anew?"

The god mulled this over, and, reluctant to abandon his passion for molding ever newer humans, assented.

So he gave each person a span of a certain number of years, after which he spoke to them from the heavens, in a voice of thunder, and bid them settle their bones onto the Earth, leave their bodies and travel to the next world.
But the people did not listen. The god's world was too beautiful, too welcoming, too familiar and they would not leave. In desperation, in order to drive them off, the god aged the people's bodies, let their skin hang loose, their jaws slacken and beauty fade, until there was nothing left. And still the people would not leave the Earth. Their organs would become motionless and drop away, and they remained, whispering ghostlike around his wonderful world, making it mournful.

And the god's heart became sad because the people he loved were sad.

He went to his goddess for advice. "Look at my world. It is now full of misery. Everything is ruined. What should I do?"
The goddess pondered over the problem for days, and finally returned to the god and asked him one question: "And how do you learn how to do something?"

"I try it once, and then again and again until I get it right."

"Well that is what your people must do. They must practice how to die and then when it is time, they will know how."

So the god went to his people, and did the best thing he could for them. He gave them a darkness at the end of each day. And though it pained the god, with this darkness he sent a weariness into the minds and hearts of the people. And his voice thundered gently from the stars and his faced gazed down bright from the moon onto his loved ones. And the people were so tired that they lay down their bodies and closed their eyes. And they slept. But when it was day again, they arose with fresh vigor.

In this way, the people practiced for the end of their times every night each for a certain number of years, and when the moment came for them to leave the Earth, the people knew how to rest, to close their eyes, and to let their minds drift away to a newer place forever.

The god was pleased and happy and continued to create new people to fill his Earth while the older people left it. The goddess' heart filled with love for him and the other gods admired his creation, which continued on with only a little more sadness and heartache than before.

The Sleepless Sea

2008-04-01T17:10:00.000-07:00

Sleep can be troublesome, elusive, and stubborn. When the clock ticks away, the sheets strangle, and the pillow hardens, it seems that every time you try to catch it in your gaze, it shies away, slipping under the shadows, peering at you, waiting. And then your bed seems like a massive sea of tangled cloth, exposing a foot to the cold, heating you unbearably and twisting around you in a grasp that is unfathomable in the daylight. You long for the days when sleep was kind to you, caressed you, blessed you with its comfortable numbness. Why has it turned on you? What did you do to offend?

Someone once recounted to me a myth concerning the origins of sleep. I'll tell this to you next time.

2008-03-04T22:23:00.000-08:00

Another job. This one for an article about survival. How do we do it? In this case, businesses in the Yukon expand their horizons in times of economic hardship. But how do we? How do we get through hard times? Or more importantly, how do we get through those ordinary, boring times that seem endless? Fantasy, right? Alcohol? Maybe that's what vices are for- boredom. Anyhow, this article posits that hard times bring out the best in us; make us fight and prepare us for regular boring old times. I'd rather be bored than sad too.

Work

2008-02-16T14:33:00.000-08:00

Working for money is great. This was for a magazine. You know what the great poet Gibran said? "Work is love made visible. And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy." I'm not sure I want to beg, but in essence, in a very pure form, this is absolutely true. Everyone could maximize their contribution to the world by finding what is right for them to do. Everyone would then be happier and the world a better place. Supposedly. But then who would man McDonald's? Who would clean the public bathrooms?

Mish mash

2008-02-15T15:53:00.000-08:00

The word "mishmash" means this: a collection or mixture of unrelated things; a hodgepodge. I guess Burnaby and by extension, Canada, is a mixture of foreign people and things, foreign to eachother, that is. Which is pretty interesting, because new things are born out of the blending of the very different. Take red and yellow. They hate eachother. But what would the world do without orange? What would my two paintings here, done for a restaurant, be without orange? Nothing, nothing at all.

Starting something

2007-12-13T21:48:00.000-08:00

Lately, nothing has come easily to me. But here is an attempt I made at a Christmas cards, various versions of which I had printed up and mailed out. I'm going through this phase where I obsess about birds in urban settings. Seagulls, pigeons, crows...they all really do it for me. I think it is because in my last job, I spent most of my time in an office downtown staring out the window.

That's bananas, son.

2007-09-16T10:15:00.000-07:00

A recipe from Cote D'Ivoire describes how to make fried cinnamon bananas. It was brought to Cote d'Ivoire by refugees from the Asante empire. The Asante empire was located in Ghana, created by the Asante (or Ashanti) people after the fall of the Ghana empire, which was actually located in modern-day Mauritania, Mali and Senegal many centuries ago.
It's all very complicated and interesting.
On the other hand, fried bananas, though they taste delicious, are very boring to draw, so I tried not to dwell on them too much. Instead, I depict a person whose costume has some similarities to the Asante people's although I have taken liberties with the pattern.

You say houmous, I say humus.

2007-08-03T16:17:00.000-07:00

Humus has its origins in the ancient and dusty Middle East. It was not a happy beginning, though; apparently, impoverished Syrians introduced humus in order to save on the cost of meat. This act of economy was not overlooked by the Baghdadi ladies, who would sneer at the Syrians for their cheapness, saying things like, "The humble chickpea is no match for a hunk of meat!" However, humus tastes good, and so the dish spread rapidly, despite its unhappy start.
A quick note on my piece: I'm experimenting with different media. Here I've used watercolour, acrylic, pencil crayon and ink. Hmmm... too much? Oh, and collage too.
And if you want to know more about Middle Eastern dishes, Sami Zubaida, professor emeritus of Sociology and Politics at London University wrote a book called "Culinary Cultures of the Middle East."

Ring of Fire

2007-07-30T16:00:00.000-07:00

I fell in to a burning ring of fire
I went down, down, down
and the flames went higher.
And it burns, burns, burns
the ring of fire.

I originally did this peice with that song in mind. Johnny Cash wrote it along with June Carter, or so I am told. It's about illicit love and how lust can send you into the depths of hell. At the time, Cash was married to someone who was not June Carter, and I guess it was a bit of a strain. But the two of them did end up together.

Self-portrait #2673

2007-06-28T15:53:00.000-07:00

All humans are self-obsessed. It's just how we are. If we weren't, we would never survive. All living things are self-obsessed, or at least obsessed with their very own survival. Or obsessed with passing on their genes in the shape of offspring. How obnoxious is that? What do we know about genetics? Maybe we don't have the best DNA in the world. But the point is, we all think we do.
So here is my testament to my very own self-obsession: self portrait #2673. At least, I think it has to be around that number. Looking back, it seems I am consumed with the idea of portraying myself. Why? I don't know. At least I stay still.

Here today, mango tomorrow...

2007-06-15T11:06:00.000-07:00

Mangoes are lovely and sweet. In India, the mango shape is used to create the paisley pattern. I don't know if this is true of all paisley. Mangoes are also reknowned in India for helping with women's fertility problems. Maybe it has something to do with the shape of the fruit. It does look like a womb.

2007-06-06T10:16:00.000-07:00

Some tea comes from Ceylon, or as they like to call it now, Sri Lanka. Like many things from the East, it is flavourful and hot. My first and possibly last in a series of food and drink illustrations.

The beginning of a beautiful friendship...

2007-05-18T09:23:00.000-07:00

Embarking on my career in illustration....is scary. So here I hope to connect with others and show anyone who cares what I am doing and hope to get some input. Images coming soon!