The Woeful Tales of a Domesticated Man

Faces

2011-07-26T14:00:00.000-07:00

Went to a conference this weekend and doodled while the lecturers talked. I've never had much of an attention span when it came to focusing in class.
Aimee and kids fly to Canada tomorrow. I love them, but its such a strange relief when I get the house to myself. Like popping a can of peanuts. I'll get lonely in a couple of days, but the change of pace keeps life interesting. Gots to finish my comic while they're gone!
Cheers all,
KP.

On My Way to the Comic Con

2011-07-22T07:10:00.000-07:00

I'm about to head out on the highway to the San Diego Comic Con and I thought I'd pinch off one last post in case I never return. Was hiking out in Palos Verde last Sunday with my ladies... drew this in my sketchbook and slapped some color on it in Photoshop yesterday. It was a great day out... we found a dead Sea Lion... I would have loved to have drawn it, but the smell was incredible! Kids wouldn't sit for it, so I had to settle with these pictures on my iphone.

If you happen to be in San Diego this weekend and you'd like a copy of my book, they're at Tr!ckster.... or you can just find me, a nerd in a sea of nerds... I'll be the one in the Pizza the Hut suit.

Cheers all!

Coquette

2011-07-19T19:58:00.000-07:00

Been watching a lot of Treme.... I love New Orleans... was filled with a hankering for a shrimp po'boy, etouffee or Jambalaya... how did I scratch THAT itch in LA? (drum roll please...) Bubba Gump!

Blah.

Still itchin'. Anybody got any good Cajun recommendations on the west side?
Kids like the Bubba Gump though (they do the Spongebob trivia)... It's like CPK and Islands... one step above the Mc Pigs. Good for families though... gotta give em credit for that.

I managed to doodle Coq sitting out in the sun. It was a great morning down in Long Beach.
Hope you're all well.
KP.

CARPOCALYPSE!!!!

2011-07-15T18:28:00.000-07:00

LA is all a flutter with tidings of chaos! Well... I gotta get a comic done so it's a good thing that there's no place to go in the city of Angels with the 405 shut down. Back to a simpler way of life when people went to their neighborhood strip clubs and stayed home to fight with their families on weekends.

Cleaning up my roughs in pencil... I love the feel of pencil but I'm pretty slow at it. 2 and half pages down, 4 to go!
Cheers,
KP.

Lonely lunch sketches

2011-07-14T21:58:00.000-07:00

Dukes. Culver City in the heart of west LA is a transitional town in a city that is the size of a continent. The only reason to come to Culver City is to work for Columbia pictures (now Sony... but it doesn't sound as good as Columbia) or to pass through on the way to a beach. But the Culver hotel sits in a prime spot carving traffic on Washington towards Flynn's arcade and a choice between the quiet beaches of Playa and the madness of Venice. At the bottom of the Culver Hotel is a bar rumored to have been won or lost in a hand of cards involving the iconic John Wayne... hence the name Dukes. Also famous for the munchkins said to be haunting the joint left behind from the predatory film making practices of the early cinema era when Wizard of Oz was shot in this flat unassuming stretch of land known as Culver City. Go back far enough you will find Saber Tooth cats and Dire Wolves, mingling with Harlen's Ground Sloth and American Lions... fast forward to a replica of a Southern Plantation that was the set for Gone With the Wind and the productions of Lucille Ball (I believe it was named the Desilu studios)... Little Rascals and Lawrence of Arabia were made here too. Not sure what happened in between those two eras... something about Indians and probably lots of passive aggressive swindling and subtle extinctions.

Well... Let's look at my eight years... A movie about a Bear and a Deer... a movie about some Surfing Penguins (8 people saw that one)... a disaster movie about food from the sky (the only cartoon that I can say I've truly worked on... why don't people make cartoons? I love Cartoons. People love Pixar but I want Cartoons. I don't know why I don't draw more cartoony... I'll take Spongebob over what I do any day... I've got to be careful... there's munchkin ghosts walking these halls... but I will fall on my sword for the guys who made Cloudy because they let me work on a Cartoon... gots to feed my kids... but Cartoons make me happy... can't eat happy). There's other stuff I've worked on too... but I can't talk about that now (loose lips sink ships and so on).

I wonder what it's like to be a Ground Sloth? I wonder if I'd be smart enough to avoid the tar pits if I were alive back then? Probably not. Would they I like beer still if I was worried about getting eaten by a Saber tooth cat? If I liked beer would I worry about the Saber Tooth Cat? Seems like a good system for all involved.

Back to Dukes. I sat there and drew these people while procrastinating writing. The waitress had a picture of Sapporo and she kept filling my glass. This was the best thing to happen to me in a while. June was a mess but July is looking up. Work has been busy so my blogging has been slowed... I'll get back to the sketch book after we hit our screening.

Don't tell anybody, but we're trying to make a Cartoon. I hope it goes!
Cheers,
KP.

Edward The Tree Climbing Dog

2011-07-09T20:36:00.000-07:00

Hi all...
Well, I've finally got my book printed! The boxes are sitting in a closet beside the vacuum and my emergency crowbar (I keep this in case of zombie outbreak). Now I guess I've got to try and get rid of them! Since the story is meant to be read out loud to children, I thought putting it up on youtube may be the best way to show what it's about! I'd love to hear what you think, my dear kindly internet friends(I'd rather have a conversation about this over missing a baseball at dodger stadium any day... oh... and no kids were dropped during the production of this book). Speaking of kids, the idea for the story came a few years back when I would go for nightly walks with my oldest girl, Ani, and we'd have these fantastic, creative riff sessions. I love my wife and my other kid too, but when they joined us, the riffing wasn't the same. We'd try and include them but it just wouldn't click and it was Ani that made this observation... sometimes the best things about a friendship can't be explained or shared. That conversation reminded me of "One Froggy Evening" and after Ani and I talked about it for a while, we came up with this take for the story. Ironically... it has taken me so long to finish the art for this book, between movies and life... my kid is no longer into picture books! It's all Twilight and Nicholas Flamel now. I figure our creative lag will catch up sooner or later. My kids are still definitely my muse! It's good that their sensibilities evolve. Makes life interesting.

I digress....

If you're at all inclined to support me in this endeavor to dapple in the world of independent publishing, the book will be available in a couple weeks in San Diego at the Trickster show (here's the link: http://trickstertrickster.com/). I will also be at APE in October (more on that later as we get closer). And of course, if you'd like to get a copy on the internets, you can scoot on over here:

http://pearnworks.bigcartel.com/

I'm just setting up the retail site now, so it's not as pretty as I'd like it to be, but it works!
Anyhow... Hope you're all well out there!
Thanks for stopping by.
Cheers,
KP.

Dentist office sketches

2011-07-07T18:08:00.000-07:00

Drew this yesterday sitting in the dentist office.... Big kid waiting for her turn to get her teeth scraped and scrubbed (hence the surely expression). Wanted to draw the little kid too when she traded chairs with the big kid, but she demanded the sketchbook. So I told her if she was going to take my moleskin, she had to draw what happened in the dentist's office. This is how she saw it, and it's a bit disturbing (I'm not sure who the x'd out people are in the back, but I don't think they're long for this world because it looks like they're going to be fed to those alien flowers). That's what happens in America if you don't make your co pay.
Cheers,
KP.

San Juan Capistrano

2011-07-06T10:44:00.000-07:00

Went down to the mission at San Juan Capistrano on Sunday. I couldn't go in with the big dog, so I found a bus bench and drew this while the sun fought it's way through the marine layer to bring some joy and glory to a beach ridden long weekend. Coquette is good company for such outings... I always feel secure with 90 pounds of German Shepherd quietly waiting to uncoil at my feet. Not that there's any crime or anything down in the OC, it's the wide berth that people give a man sitting with an intimidating dog that I like. And those that approach with respect and affection for the mighty German Shepherd are the types of people I really like to meet. You can tell the story of love lost in many of those who want to pet her... remembering a childhood pet or an animal forfeited in a divorce. And little kids, once they break the seal and get in close, love to climb all over her and tug at her ears. She's very patient with kids. I can't trust her with other dogs though... learned that the hard way. But I suppose if dogs are like their owners and vice versa, I'm that way too (I trust myself with dogs... It's the people I have trouble with).
Anyhow... After the drawing, I met up with my clan, ate some really bad Mexican Food and hung out on the beach for the rest of the day.
Not bad work if you can get it.
Cheers,
KP.

sketching around 4th of July weekend.

2011-07-05T12:08:00.000-07:00

Happy July 5th everybody!
Was out and about with the kids this weekend at the Huntington Gardens in Pasadena. Did some drawings... it was so hot I was trying to keep my sweat from bubbling the ink.
Saw America on the Beach bike path this 4th of July... I've gotta say... America is pretty hot. So many boobs in red, white and blue bikinis... hard to focus on making sure the kids stayed on their bikes. Speaking of kids, I'm raising American kids who think that living in California is normal! I suppose in 6, 8,10 years it'll be my girls down there playing volleyball in strings of red, white and blue fabric. And I'll still be an old, hairy, walleyed Canadian toddling by on my bicycle and feeling like I just rolled onto a set for an Aaron Spelling show. Something about a hard freeze in your childhood changes how you look at life... Maybe that's why you can always tell when somebody grew up in California as opposed to... say... Michigan. It's not the accents in this country, it's the weathered soul that tells the story.

I do love the fireworks!
Cheers all,
KP.

Friday Breakfast

2011-07-01T15:19:00.000-07:00

Quiet morning at work so I went for some eggs and I drew this. A lovely day in Culver City at the Grand Casino bakery.

Happy Canada day all!
Hip hip hooray for passive aggressive independence! Thank the Queen.

Cheers,
KP.

s'more

2011-06-30T17:01:00.000-07:00

OK... My scanner at home is broken so I've been sneaking away to do this at work... hence the dribs and drabs of posts.

How are you doing?
Really... How are YOU doing?

I've been a little down, but I'm feeling better now. I was surprised when the package came in the mail. I was so excited! I followed the instructions to the letter (except the bit about the 10W30, which was inconveniently NOT included in the box, so I substituted corn syrup and it seemed to work fine). The hammer really helped. Thanks for sending that too. After the install I slept for a long time. I must apologize because one of the shrews escaped (how did you get them so well behaved in the bubble wrap. I didn't think the post office would ship live cargo... of course, that's probably why you went with Fed Ex). Anyway, once I woke up, the first thing I did was change the bandages and clean the hammer. The swelling was bad, but other than that, I felt great and it was just like the picture on the box. Amazing. You are, indeed, a good friend to think of me in these troubling times. As soon as I can get a shoe on that leg, I'll take a drive up the coast to see you and we'll knock a few beers down for old times sake, eh! War stories and Kool Aid kicks. Like the good old days back home in Albany. Before the Kiwis came and we all had to start eating sheep.

So have you heard from Annie?
I hope her face has healed.

Cheers Brother!
See you on the moon.
KP

couple more sketchy sketches

2011-06-29T10:13:00.000-07:00

It's a nice morning in LA... some June gloom on the beach to cool it all down... makes for good dog walking. Don't think the dog pays attention to the weather one way or the other... so long as there's someplace to pooh and something to sniff. If life could be so simple!
Cheers,
KP.

sketchbook dump #1

2011-06-28T17:51:00.000-07:00

Went sketching on the weekend and realized I haven't posted anything from my book in a while... so here's a sketch! Girls playing chasing a butterfly on a rainy day in N'Awlings (not from the weekend... a while back). Had to sketch it under an umbrella.

Shitty Dad

2011-06-04T00:36:00.000-07:00

Ok... it's been a week!
What a mess!
All I can say is that I understand better what it must feel like to get hit by a train.

My dignity... my reputation... my love of baseball... poof... all gone in a flash!
Perhaps I should break these down:

As far as my love of baseball... well it's no secret I've always sucked at sports. I've only got the one eye so lacking depth perception makes it so I suck at hitting and catching (doesn't help that I'm also fat and uncoordinated). Mostly I participate at the beer level. Upside: Think of all the money I'm going to save this year in NOT supporting the Dodgers. There's a bad vibe I get from that place. I'll watch it for free at home from the safety of my couch (I'm sure those McCorts are turning some kinda dime selling my fat ugly face all over the world... seriously... they aren't getting another cent from me... for at least a week or two).

My reputation... erff... my friends should still be my friends and my enemies will probably still be my enemies. I draw cartoons for a living... what's more cartoonish then becoming an internet sensation by being an idiot in public? I mean... it's not like I'm a senator screwing around on my spouse... it's not like I've got an STD.... It's not like a DUI... Morally I'm better than 90% of Hollywood. I took my kids to a baseball game and dropped a ball. No big deal. Sure I dropped a kid too... but she's been through worse than that and god only knows we're raising a generation of pussies... what's with a tiny bump on the arse? Since when is spending time with your kids a bad thing, drop or no drop? Anybody who begs to differ can find me at my house in Playa Del Rey... I'm all ears. I love my kids. They love me. That's all the Reputation I need. Upside to this: I believe in setting the bar for expectations LOW... Worked for my marriage... been steady for 14 or 15 years... or maybe 10 or 11... I dunno... like I said... LOW EXPECTATIONS. Short of getting caught breeding dogs to fight, or getting raped by a pigeon... after this fiasco I probably can't look any more stupid. I'm a hairy, walleyed Canadian who can't dance. The fact that I'm getting close to 40 is a victory on its own.

Dignity? Fat white middle aged guy--- tiny, tiny, tiny dick. This is nothing. Whatever ounce of dignity has been scattered should be back up to normal by the time I get to my next Dell Taco bowel movement. Those always make me proud.

Yeah. You may notice I'm getting a little blue on this one. Hell yeah. I've been feeling crappy all week. Like a victim. A shrinking violet. All drunk and emotional. Well... I needed to write it out. This isn't Facebook. This isn't Fox, Good Morning America, Sports Center, or You Tube. I can't control what happens out there. If you want to read what I have to say, then read. If you hate it... at least you'll be responding to an IDEA that I put into the world. All that video shows is that I'm crappy at sports. Which is very true. That's why I draw for a living. I use my brain. I think.

So... there we go. To the four of you who may find this on my dusty old blog.... Howdy! Thanks for dropping by.
My 15 minutes have been used up. It wasn't all bad of course... some nice stuff was said too. It's all good in the end. Really weird, strange week. Glad it's over.
Cheers.

Q Pop show

2011-03-18T12:35:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine is having an Art show at his shop, with all proceeds heading over to help the poor folks in Japan. I chucked a couple o' paintings into the mix. If you're around downtown LA tonight, pop by to Q and say howdy to my pal Chris. All proceeds at the door go straight to Japan. Here's his site if you wanna look it up: http://qpopshop.blogspot.com/, and here's their facebook with info on the show: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Q-Pop/110817182312067

So... that's it I guess.

Haven't blogged in a while so I hope you're all doing well out there. Nothing much new to report on my home front. Kids are getting big. Work is messy but fun. Besides earthquakes, tsunamis, nuclear meltdowns and the shock of losing the voice of the Aflac duck... life has been pretty good. No complaints. Just hope the world keeps a turning and the nut jobs wake up on May 22nd to a planet that hasn't ended (my money is on 2012, but I'm only betting because I always lose).

Read on my wife's calendar this morning a quote that makes me happy: "If it's the end, then it's all ok. If it's not ok, then it's not the end...." I'd tack on a "... so quit whining and keep punching" if it were my quote... but its not, so I won't.

I miss Kurt Vonnegut. Wherever he is, I hope he's still the smartest guy in the room.

KP.

Oh... almost forgot. I'm waiting on my book to come back from China all printed and published and stuff. I'll post up a new site when it's all in place. Cheers!

What is Q? Answer: MURDER!

Happy to be at Nucleus tomorrow!

2010-12-03T17:41:00.000-08:00

YES!!!

Hey...
Just wanted to drop it again that we're going to be at Nucleus tomorrow for the launch of our book. My friend John flew all the way in from Portland and he's really, really talented, so I'd strongly recommend coming out to see him in person. He's like a unicorn but better because he draws super good!
Here's the event:

http://www.gallerynucleus.com/event/290

and to the book:

http://gallerynucleus.com/detail/10298

Cheers all!
KP.

2010-11-28T03:16:00.000-08:00

Just finished a comic for an anthology with my Aardman comrades! I'll post again when its all printed and ready for sale.

I got home tonight from a Hockey game I attended with my 7 year old daughter. She loves hockey (even when the Kings lose... boooo... Damn you Chicago and your awesome team colors). I never knew making and raising girls would be so easy. I mean, its like they came out of thin air and voila... little human females! Of course, by thin air, I mean my wife... (whose "air" was a little thinner before those kids, heh heh... but don't tell her I said that or I'll be in a big ol pile of domesticated pooh).

Crap you're gonna tell her.

(oh... and I'm not judging by the way... if anyone got fat... it was yours truly... big old lump of hairy cheese meat I am... I feel worse for my wife for having to drive in the car of life with that reality... she could do better).

Crap.

(If only there was a way to take back words on a blog... distract...)

LOOK A BEAR!

Back to the kids... so they weren't there, and then they were. And we carried on. Me and Aimee still kicking along. Sometimes we're friends, sometimes we fight. House is still messy. Work is still too busy. Cleveland Indians still suck. Somehow, the kids kinda figure shit out. I guess I shouldn't be so surprised... I did it when I was a kid. Kids have been doing it for centuries. Thank god the girls like Hockey (I can live with pink laundry, but Soccer? Blah!)

I am looking forward to the colossal f$%k ups that they may or may not become in four or five years and dealing with the bad choices all teenagers impose on their parents. That's the biggest reason I'm keeping my crappy beat up Subaru. Figure they can't do much damage to something so old...Keeping the wife for the same reason... heh heh...

CRAP!

(I'm kidding, OK... Jeez... She old, but not that old... older than me of
course... but I'm gonna die a lot sooner because of the drugs...)

CRAP!!!

I hope nobody reads this.

KP.

Anthology 451

2010-11-09T16:57:00.000-08:00

So, I did a comic a while back with some really good friends and it's finally published! We got the boxes right before the APE show up in San Francisco, where we had a great time selling the goods and meeting lots of creative, ambitious artsy folk. My buddy, the amazingly talented Albertan, John Hoffman, put it all together and kept us organized like a herd of meth addled cats. We have a release party scheduled for Dec 4th up at Nucleus Gallery, http://www.gallerynucleus.com/event/290.
Below are some sketches from APE. I love drawing the comic crowd.
Cheers,
KP.

Been a while... sorry...

2010-11-09T15:39:00.000-08:00

Errff... I'm a lazy, crappy blogger. Here's some doodles and stuff. Sketchbook stuff out drawing at LACMA, Tar Pits and Natural History Museum with the kids. They're getting good at drawing live in public. They're on that cusp where they're not kids anymore but they're not teenagers either. They're like, really nice people. I'm sure it won't last (I grew out of it and became an arsebucket), but for now... weeeeeee!
Cheers all!
KP.

Some Beat Boards.

2010-06-16T18:47:00.000-07:00

I never really get to post boards... mainly for two reasons... One is that they're usually tossed off and never really finished, and two... they are almost always owned by somebody else (studio anybody?).
These scribbles are from a project I was playing with a while back. They are what they are... but there's something I really like about quick sketch drawings (which is good, because if I could draw like a REAL artist, I would never be able to finish my sequences... the eye for scribbles keeps shoes on my kid's feet and beer in my belly).
Anyhow... these aren't linear or anything... I wouldn't bore you with the story.
Just thought I'd stick up some boards in this bloggity puddle of sketch drawings.

On a side note, I ate two pints of blackberries yesterday. I was as incontinent as a water slide in July (my stomach isn't used to that much fruit). I wonder if Bear's have the same problems this time of year? Yummm... berries.
Thank you TJs.
KP.

Teaching my kid photoshop

2010-06-08T23:33:00.000-07:00

On a plane to Alberta a couple of weeks back, I was sitting beside my 6 year old and we killed a good hour and a half playing with photoshop... I scribbled the drawing but Emma did the painting (I even taught her how to find the lens flare). I never thought when I was a 12 year old mullet wearing, walleyed hick drawing severed heads in my math book that some day I would have piles of doodles of unicorns. What can I say... little girls like unicorns and I like... well... that sounds weird. I like my kids. Lets leave it at that.

Another Sketch Dump

2010-06-08T19:10:00.000-07:00

Been neglecting one of my sketchbooks. Here's some of the last few from my walking moleskin (it's the pocket sized one... of course, not all pockets are created equal).
Leaking oil sucks and we should all ride bikes... Sarah Palin still has an audience...
Been earthquaky in LA... Dunno... Does this place all feel weird or is it just me?

At least the California sun is still a shining.
Cheers,
KP.

First LA life drawing

2010-04-30T01:55:00.000-07:00

Went to a life drawing session. A little choppy (I'm rusty... but then again, I'm almost always rusty these days). Got a couple of doodles I kinda liked though. It was fun.
I always marvel at how drawing always makes me feel better about life and crap... no matter what is going on. I get lazy... I get tired... but if I can just cross the threshold and sit down and do it, eventually, the sap rises and it feels good (regardless of the final results).
Anyhow... thought I'd toss em up!
Cheers,
KP.

A day in the life for Aiden.

2010-04-23T20:53:00.000-07:00

We're back in the states, and we desperately miss our friends back in Bristol. Our time in Britain wouldn't have been the same without the gifts from one particular family that adopted my wife and kids for the short time that we were over there... the MacCallum's. Before we left, Aiden, one of the best kids I've ever had the privilege to know, asked me to write him up a day in the life.... well I'd rather storyboard it. I wanted to do it from LA because I think this is more the norm (at least since I graduated from college)... and I hope this works for his collection.
I decided to blog it because I hate sending drawings over the Facebook, and because I wanted to go on public record to say that we miss our friends so very much.
It's good to be home, but its sad to be away.
I suppose that's all part of life.
Anyways... I'm such a lazy blogger, I doubt there's anybody out there reading this.
Miss you Bristol. Love you LA.
Life is good.
Cheers,
KP.

Roma

2010-03-25T08:10:00.000-07:00

Been cleaning out my desk for the move back to the states and I found this drawing in a book I took to Rome. Aimee and Emma enjoying a soggy afternoon with a coffee and a cake.
Off to America!
Bye.
KP.

Sketch dump

2010-03-16T15:30:00.000-07:00

US embassy London, UK

Lacock Abby

Rattlebone Inn... Best Sunday Roast we've found.

Bike cops outside of a London pub.

Imperial War Museum... Awesome place!

STONEHENGE

Carphilly Castle in Southern Wales

Sitting for tea in the Cotswolds

This is an old one from Bratislava...

Some life drawing....

Wife and kids! Bristol zoo I do believe.

Been a while... too busy to blog but I have been sketching. Movie is going along great and I'm close to finishing off my book... All in all I can't complain.
It's spring in England and we're getting ready to leave. I'm going to miss it over here... trees, cows, pubs that let you bring in your dog, the beer in those pubs... the lifestyle out here in the West Country is pretty sweet. We got along fine, me and Bristol. I'll miss her.

Sooooo.... nothing really to say here but this is a month worth of sketch vomit. Try not to walk through it or you'll have to clean your shoes.
Cheerio... pip pip...
KP

Knock Knock

2010-01-12T08:36:00.000-08:00

Gonna be having a chat with my friend Bobby tonight about story and stuff... Part of it is a fun concept of taking a simple premise and then asking others to generate drawings around the idea, and for our conversation I though the whole idea of "Knock Knock... Who's There?" would be interesting and fun. Mostly because I firmly believe the joke is one of the purest forms of storytelling. Anyhow, these are my contributions to the discussion!
Cheers,
KP

Sketching in York

2010-01-11T01:16:00.000-08:00

One of the disadvantages of traveling with a dog is that you can't go into all the sites and attractions that fill up the day (especially with kids). On the upside though, while waiting for my Chilluns to get through a museum on Vikings, I had to kill some time on a cold, clear day in York while hanging out with the pooch... and I filled that time with my sketchbook.

I have to say that I was really never one for keeping careful sketchbooks until I moved over here to the UK and made friends with Matt Jones who does this with amazing skill and talent. Someday, I'm sure his books will sit in a museum somewhere. And its not just Matt, there is a great culture for the sketchbook over here (at least in the circles I've been lucky enough to lump into) that seems more formalized and expected than it was in Los Angeles... or more likely perhaps, it was always there in LA and I wasn't participating. Whatever the reason, I am enlightened. I'm still not very honorable in my sketchbook maintenance, but I do think the drawings are improving. It is like building cardio at the gym... it takes time and practice to get used to drawing space from life. Very different than nudes in a classroom. I also have to thank my Head of Story, Mr. Donnie Long, for the Christmas gift of a water brush pen. I have to admit when I first put it down on the paper I panicked as I did not expect the ink to run so vigorously, but in the end, I really do love effect and the fact that it speeds up my drawings. As my old man probably said, "the right tools for the right jobs makes all the difference" (I don't think he ever really said that... my dad didn't say too much when we were kids... kinda grunted and pointed at tools and then growled when we moved to slow too get them... but he was always a proponent of careful tool maintenance). Thanks Donnie! God love the new art supply... the gift that keeps on giving!

Anyhow... things are supposed to get busy at work and we're moving back to the states in a couple of months, so I hear a fan and I can smell shit. Wonder what happens next?

A Snowy Day in Great Britain

2010-01-08T03:06:00.001-08:00

A stupid idea to celebrate apocalyptic snow upon Queen and Country.

2009-12-22T06:06:00.001-08:00

So... it's been a while... sorry.

Been out traveling a bit. Not to bore you, but here are some doodles from my sketchbook.
This first one was at a bar in Salt Lake City. I have never been to a cleaner town in all my life. There's something to be said for that old timey religion... seems to clean up the human fabric... (well... didn't clean me up at all... I'm still a filthy mess of a human being struggling along trying to draw cartoons for a living).

Speaking of filthy messes... had a great time in San Francisco. It is a little known fact around the planet that San Fran is home to a multitude of crazy people... as you'd expect in any big city, sure, but with San Francisco there is NO space thanks to geography so all the human element is smushed together in one big hilly pile. I kinda loved it.
One day, while out strolling, a kindred dirty hairy dude came wobbling up to me and made me a challenge... "I bet I can guess where you got your shoes... city, state and country!"
What luck, to have such an experience to witness greatness in such a lovely city. No burning bush, no water to wine, no plague of locusts, but non the less, an amazing miracle... a man who knows shit about folks shoes. Unfortunately, I imagine this god given talent isn't overly lucrative, hence the man's worn trench coat and slight odor of peanut butter on a ham but surely this hidden gem in the urban jungle of San Fran was worth a quick three dollar bet, so I stuck out my foot and shook the prophet's hand.
"You gots your shoes on your FEET, in the city of San Francisco, in the state of California, in the greatest country on the Earth, the United States of America... huzzah!" was his reply.

Ok... I added the Huzzah, but he was an all around entertainer so I happily paid up my three bucks and got this drawing to boot. Not a bad trade off.

Back in LA for a couple of days... I then had to catch a quick domestic flight back home to Ontario. Waiting at LAX terminal 3 to board my Northwest flight to Lansing Michigan (by way of Detroit... rock city)... I was struck at the contrast between LA and its image of healthful beauty, and the burly Mid West. Now, I'm not passing judgement here on the clinically obese middle (and what a middle) of North America... a part of the world where I happen to hail... and I look the part believe me... but I cannot tell you how shocking it is to see how BIG the mob was waiting to catch that flight. Not just a few of them, but EVERYBODY! I would not want to be downhill of a rolling army of folks from the rust belt, lemme tell you... between gravity and the sides of beef they carry around for shoulders, I couldn't imagine any Roman Legion standing up to a division from Gary Indiana or Toledo Ohio. Make them run uphill, and you may have a different outcome, but with gravity on their side, it would be an unstoppable force of nature. Anyhow, I like drawing chubby folk (my mirror breeds familiarity with the shapes) so I did some sketching while waiting for the plane.

This last one is another airport sketch waiting to catch my plane out of Lansing to go back to LAX with the pressure of a snow front moving in from the west. Winter travel in the North is always sketchy, but luckily the plane made it to DTW and then off to LAX without any hiccups.
I got back home to England, and a week later it snowed here. I do love winter... good for the blood!

Happy Christmas all.
KP.

An Ani in Paris.

2009-11-08T02:47:00.000-08:00

Going through old sketchbook drawings and found this one. My daughter sitting on the river Seine quoting Ratatouille.
I always wish I knew more French when I go to a French speaking place. When I leave, and come back to the land of the English, the desire to know French goes away. Strange. Perhaps I am lazier than I think I may be. Time for a nap.
Bonjour!
KP.

Castle Devin in Slovakia

2009-10-30T08:28:00.000-07:00

My camera broke but my sketchbook did not. I did a bit of doctoring in Photoshop. I guess that's cheating. That makes me a cheater, or in the street with the kids, a cheatah... and we all know cheatah's run fast (because of all the spotty bits). I run like a Cheetah and sting like a flea. I also make tractor noises when I walk backwards. And that's why the ladies like me.
SLOVAKIA!

Naked stuff

2009-09-16T07:49:00.000-07:00

Hey... been two posts in one week... It must be down time.
I just wanted to do another plug for a great blog my Welsh comrade, Mr. Matt Jones... the Tom Jones of cartoonists, put up a while ago: http://aardlife.blogspot.com/. It's a site dedicated to the life drawing sessions from the gang over here at Aardman and there's some fantabulous stuff up there. Check it out. We've been off the naked train for the summer, but it starts back up again tomorrow, so I'm getting itchy to smack some Conte down on newsprint and draw on something real as opposed to the little Cintique TV-thing that I've become a slave to (how did we ever storyboard without the lens flare filter?).

Tis Autumn over here in Britain and I get to wear my plaid (it never really gets cold enough in LA for flannel)... brings my Canadian sap up, it does.

Enjoy the bums!
KP

cloudy with a chance...

2009-09-15T07:58:00.000-07:00

Well... I don't usually mix business with blogging, but I've got to plug a movie coming out this Friday that I was lucky enough to be a part of. I haven't seen it in a while, but the last I saw... it was fantastic and the crew behind it are some of the best in the business.

If you get a chance, check it out. I can guarantee some laughs (the directors... Chris and Phil... are two of the funniest human beings on the planet). And if that doesn't talk it up too much... I do believe this film could finally solve the arms race in Saskatchewan. Love and rainbows of sunshine are promised to all who see it.

That and a sandwich.

I'll mail you one.

I'm not begging though... I just have too many sandwiches.

GO!
KP

pub doodle

2009-09-03T15:32:00.000-07:00

I slapped these two down over a couple of pints with my dog sitting at the beer garden of our local pub, The Mouse, in the waning days of a soggy British summer. For some folk, a warm beach is the salve for all of life's slings and arrows, but give me a cozy pub where the bitter pumps comfort into heavy pint glasses any day of the week. Cheers all.
KP.

2009-06-27T09:41:00.000-07:00

Been doing some regular life drawing with the great folks at Aardman here and really learning again. I love it.

On a side note... I went to see the 30th anniversary of Jeff Wayne's rock opera version of War Of The Worlds in Cardiff, Wales, on Thursday with my boss and long time comrade, Donnie Long, and never before have felt more in touch with my inner nerd... it was magical and utterly fascinating. I loved it. Watching leaves fall from the rafters in front of a giant animatronic robot with a flashlight shining through mist acting as a heat ray made my palms sweat for the comforting weight of a twenty sided dice. Roll baby roll... kill that orc... dodge... parry... kiss the elf queen... live a little... its just hit points, right?

The sun shines here in Britain so I'm off to look for a patch of green to play baseball in.
More naked people to come!
(I've always wanted to write that).
KP.

BANANAS

2009-06-01T16:37:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted in ages... I've been drunk in England. I don't have a scanner (there's one at work but I'm infinitely intimidated by the gaggle of French artists and one Welshman... whipping out drawings in such a studio is like being back in high school gym class... I'm not sure if my dick is small, but I'm pretty sure it's not big... so better to try and keep it under the towel... however, after a post on Cartoonbrew on animated crotch shaving (thanks Gillette... pricks... there's another f*&king responsibility I didn't need in my life), I figure with some steady hands I may be fine).
Having said all that, things are ok here in Bristol. Still working for the studio system with all its ups and downs, but I'm learning a ton and I hope getting better not worse at my job. Hard to tell. On days where I feel good, I'm quickly reminded I'm an idiot. Same old story that goes back to when I was eleven (probably beyond that, but my brain cells are all dead from the early days... I don't remember Sunday School, but I'm sure there was touching). For specific reference of said idiocy, open your book to the table of contents and see the chapter: Girls, subheading: Failure, pages 102-487. It's quite comprehensive.

Enough of that auto biographical crap... Do you ever think about Bananas? They're everywhere, but where the f&*k do they come from? I can go into any grocery store here in Britain, and if its after noon, there's no strawberries, but there's always bananas. I guarantee you they cannot grow bananas at that volume on this soggy island, and I can only imagine how it must have been to see one back in the olden times... and when I say olden times, I mean really olden times (I'm talking Augustus and the Roman Empire old shit... before fur traders, and the shooting on the Plains of Abraham). I wonder how people reacted to Bananas the FIRST time they arrived on the shores of Britain with those Romans who were looking for a good place to rape and bath. To the villagers of the Empire it must not be that different from the first time they laid eyes on a rhinoceros... earth shattering and beyond reality in color, shape and taste (ever tasted a rhinoceros?... chunky... if chunky was a taste (between sour and shitty)). And, as we all know, once the Banana is known the smoothie cannot be far behind, and drink food is just around the corner. If only they had blenders.

I remember the first time I ate a Lychee Nut... BAM... it was like some delicious kick in the gob hole... I was floated up to heaven and for the time that juicy, pulpy, white fruity flesh rolled around in my meat pit, I was transported to the pearly gates for a square dance and knee slap with a God I was sure didn't exist. I'd renounce Darwin for another yummy Lychee.

Perspective... I live in a world with unbelievable distribution and while many a weekend shopping trip I buy bananas in my local store (readily without worry or thought), I'm pretty goddamn sure the countries they come from are not eating British Lamb... or Alberta Cows... or California Sea Lions... heeeellll no... It's all out of perspective. From this day forth, I will swear to appreciate every... EVERY Banana I put in my hairy face... I will peel it with reverence and eat the insides like it was a frozen Mammoth discovered in the melting glaciers of Russia (I heard that story somewhere). What could thousand year old meat possibly taste like? Rich I suppose.

Who will eat the last Banana in the world? (consider the changing climate and all)... That would make a really compelling story I imagine. THE LAST BANANA... It almost writes itself... and the porno to follow would have the same title. I hope we're still around as a species to watch it.

Bye.
KP.

2009-02-24T16:07:00.000-08:00

So...its been a while. Sorry. Nothing much to post really. Been scattered relocating and working, meeting new people and drinking beer in glorious British pubs. The world seems to be spiraling into a big old pile of sh#t and most of the news is bad... so I really don't know what I can add to all of that.

All I can say is that I'm glad nobody is trying to cut my head off in Buffalo. That's about as bad as any day can get. And if someone was to cut my head off, I would hope it wasn't in Buffalo... Hamilton, ok... preferably Dundas, but I'll settle for Burlington or Stratford. There are times in Detroit when I felt like somebody had taken a whack at my squizzy nether region while sitting at the border waiting to make a pilgrimage to the nearest Bob's Bigboy.... But if I had to go, I'd really like to get chopped to bits in Maui. Even a brutal death can't be that bad in Maui.

I'm joking, but in all seriousness... all we can all hope for is a life that means something to others. Personally, all I really need is the purpose of giving back to the world an ounce of what the world has given me. So as my soul leaves the tattered veil of a self indulgent life, I only ask for one thing... that my body be given back from whence it came... namely, the soil that knows no till... the living byproduct of consumption... I want to be fed to a pack of medium sized dogs... and when those dogs finally pass my constitutional self, to have a member of my family standing by to sing "The Circle of Life" while patiently waiting for the squatting animal to finish the business life started some thirty three years ago. Only to be scooped by a blue baggie (has to be blue), taken down to the ocean, and tossed with great velocity on the broad side of the nearest life guard hut (while still singing the song). What more could a life want than to go with such a fitting tribute.
Cheers all,
KP.

young 'n old

2008-12-24T01:08:00.000-08:00

Had some extra doodles in my sketchbook... I believe the old ladies were all clustered in terminal two at LAX while I was waiting for a red eye, clucking and pecking like a group of roosting hens. I love drawing old people... I wish more animated stories were told about old people... looking forward to UP.
Drew the girls at the park while my loverly wife was getting diagnosed with pneumonia. She nearly hacked up a lung before finally dragging her bones to the doc, but all ends well... she kicked it with some antibiotics and such... and I got this picture. I know I post a lot of drawings of my kids, but they do provide me with 90% of my muse. Just like old people, I think kids are really funny (I love watching them play...kids need to play...adults need to play...we all need to play). Opposite sides of the same coin.
Anyhow, its two days till Christmas and this egg nog won't drink itself.
Bang bang bang went Frankie's gun... he shot me down Lucille.
Best wishes,
KP.

2008-12-18T23:03:00.000-08:00

Painted this one on a ten hour plane ride back to LA from the UK. Its a long trip, but with all the movies and booze, it's not that different than sitting at home on my couch for a whole day (otherwise known in my circles as "Sunday"). The main difference between my couch and the plane, is the fact that on the plane I have to wear pants.

Between you, me and this blog, I cannot wait to reach the age that I can take my pants off anywhere I choose, for the blatant cause of comfort (completely non-sexual)... I suppose if this time of my life comes too early, it would probably cramp into my daughters' transparent dating situations. I can't imagine them wanting to bring home their boyfriends to meet the folks and endure the awkward silences with their walleyed, scarcely crotch covered hairy old man rocking in the middle of the living room with a bag of dried bananas, a bottle of pure Manitoba rum and a gummy cat blindly sucking a hacky sack full of catnip. Don't get me wrong... when it comes to my little gals, at an appropriate age, I don't really have a fundamental problem with the idea of boyfriends... I just don't want it to be too easy on the little bastards, and doubt that I have the stomach for direct confrontation. I suppose only true love will put up with the sight of your girlfriend's pappy using his naval as a beer cozy while watching reruns of WWF on ESPN classics (whatever happened to Koko B. Ware?).

Oh, that reminds me... Suplex time... best get to work shaving my head and putting shine oil on my mighty guns. Tonight, that wife of mine is finally going to taste some turnbuckle. OHHHHHH YEAAAHHHHHHHH!

stuff

2008-11-21T00:04:00.000-08:00

Just got back from a quick trip to TO for a good friend's wedding. Had a blast and caught up with a lot of friends I haven't seen in a while. Funny thing, going back to Toronto...I don't really get homesick, however, riding on the GO train from Oakville into Union station really made me nostalgic for Canada. Public transportation and trees are the two things I miss the most living in LA. Of course in Ontario you don't get to watch the city burn in an apocalyptic haze, raining ash down upon the narrow threads of civilization barely holding back the rolling mass of anarchy that seems to be constantly flexing under the sweaty California sun. Drama...oh drama.

Anyhow, I went subway sketching with Mr. Bobby Chiu and his renown band of merry doodlers. I'm pretty rusty, but had fun. Talented bunch roaming the Sunday underground there in old Hogtown. Gotta love the sound of the subway...beeebopboooo.....
Cheers all!
KP.

An idea or a rant?

2008-10-24T18:55:00.000-07:00

There comes a time in every nerd's life when they awaken in the morning and stare up at their spackled snot stained ceiling and without malice or forethought they announce to the God fearing world a wholly realized and purely altruistic, "f@#k it". Splitting the atomic fabric of society, a release of energy capable of leveling tall egos erupts like ripples of salt laden ocean fury, wave upon wave of raw power crushing the rocky hills and valleys that once defined the boundaries of "cool", pounding cliques into irrelevant pools of insignificant waste. There is nothing more powerful than a geek who refuses to bow to the shame of society. When the brain wakes up and realizes it can wear the skin of the whole without fear of retribution, the nerd, like a bloated caterpillar curls up and emerges from its cocoon as a fully realized organism, stronger for the abuse, seasoned with independent thought and calcified in creative armor.

If this is my dogma, then I must profess a belief that when the jocks win, society loses. All anyone has to do is look around at how the world has been run for the last eight years. I, personally, blame all of this mess on High School Musical. How can our society feel sympathy for the football hero? When we value the empathy of the quarterback over the nerd, we are all lost. We must teach our children so they will know. Bring back the Goonies, Gremlins and Ghostbusters. I don't want to live in a future where nerds are not allowed to break the world, and then fix it. I believe in the ending where Napoleon Dynamite gets to dance and where the scientist gets the girl. I fear that, so long as the Cheetah Girls are famous, there is very little hope for America.

Happy Halloween!

KP.

ps.... My bat, demon thingy looks a bit like Bartok... synapses and grooves on the brain. Oh well. It's all in good fun.

Cheers.

Jeez

2008-10-08T00:11:00.000-07:00

Yonder city rises on a hill. An apex of hopes and dreams forged upon the pure ambitions drawn from the well of heat stoked by the soul of Man. Or Woman. Perhaps a She-Male or two.

2008-09-22T16:12:00.000-07:00

I doodled this while watching my two kids do their homework... picked up a crayola and smeared this out. Truth is, I love watching them do homework, however, I still can't get used to the idea that they HAVE TO do homework.

I think about when I was a wee little bull, before the sac had dropped and I my sap had run, coming home from a laborious day of academic excellence from the prestigious Delaware Central school (K-8), my face still lined from the day's snot and my belly aching for food since I would very rarely eat my lunch (a problem, at 33, I certainly don't have), me and my brothers barreling off of the bus in a heap of pre adolescent rage, tearing up the lane to beat a path to the fridge in order to scrap the feeble remains of the week's groceries for any junk foody nourishment overlooked on previous days (Thursday was our grocery day...and don't get me wrong, my folks fed us well, but it would run out by Saturday...at least the good stuff...twinkies, chips, coke. By Monday we were onto the cheese and pickles, and by Wednesday we would have to eat the healthy shit...f@#king apples)...but nary was there a thought or whiff of homework in the air. Hell no! After foraging for food, we would be out in the woods, hacking trees down with machetes, polluting the atmosphere with the motor bike, mucking in the stream, playing with dog, watching The Littlest Hobo on CTV (Danger Bay on the CBC when the Hobo got the boot)...that was the plight and mission of our after school existence. We couldn't read or do math, but we sure did have fun.

My kids have the opposite experience. There's the daily homework. And there's the monthly homework. And there's the words to practice every week. And there's the books to read (one a night). And there's the karate and all the extra curricular crap well bred kids are supposed to be exposed to. And through it all, their labor and toil, I wonder out loud when they get to play.

When I say out loud, I do mean out loud. As in I sit at the end of the table, drawing stupid cartoons and telling them how much fun I had when I was their age. Sometimes I bring out photos...although I don't let them look at them because they have work to do. In two more years I'll have them cleaning up my scenes while I eat cake.

And why to I torture them in this system massively endorsed by the LA Unified School District? Because I'm a prick? No....it's because I want them to grow up and have real jobs so that they can take care of my senile carcass, and perhaps my old age will be the same as my childhood... F-U-N.

It's good to be the Dad. (nothing can go wrong with this plan...nothing).

Bean a wile

2008-09-04T21:46:00.000-07:00

busy. work. kids. school. dog. caffeine. vodka. wife. house. work. meatballs. hair. old. tired.

This is the last page. It is still rough. I have six more to key (from the middle). One a year?

Some days I try to figure out how it all adds up and really, when its all said and done, it doesn't. But it must. So it will.

Anybody out there?
KP.

wii wheel

2008-05-26T01:18:00.001-07:00

I was boarding at the kitchen table on Sunday while my two girls were playing Mario Cart on the Wii, completely naked and fancy free. It was one of those moments in parenthood where you witness your offspring in deep deep play. Remember those kid days full of mental wanderings? Time would fly and space would disappear as you lost yourself in the activity of having fun. In the nude.
Tossed off this quick sketch to capture the moment.

This new fandangled wii is the best kid toy since the gun shaped stick.

I hope those two kids of mine enjoyed it...because come Tuesday morning they're marching their little kid feet to the battery factory where their juvenile fingers are the perfect size to pack radioactive goo into the glossy off brand casings. That's the only way their Daddy can maintain his diesel sniffing habit.

In the nude.

Signed,
Nitsirk the Warrior Duke.

SPORTS!

2008-05-12T23:41:00.000-07:00

I've been a lazy blogger so here's some rough story doodles.

On a side note...been busy at work, raising two kids, and playing old man softball once a week. Can't say all those years between pee wee hardball and the beer league have added anything to my game. I have always, and will probably always, suck at sports. I can't even explain it. My brothers are both athletic. My ol' pa used to coach baseball and he was known to run the bases for the Delaware Diamonds...but genetically I just didn't develop any competitive talent.
Hear ye though, non believers and nay sayers...those flashes from the past that haunt me at night with looks of disappointment and waneful disgust in regards to dropped balls through thirty two years of inefficient sport play...I shan't withdraw and will continue forward to harrow my life's field with humble athletic furrows of infertile dreams. I will not back down. I will not quit. I will not surrender. I will continue to drop balls and allow my frustration to grow inside me like soul cancer, organic and free of pride.
By the way, my wife is quite seriously obsessed with her Karate and while it seems like a foregone cliche that when somebody says to you, "ok, come at me like this" and you do and they hurt you, it would be smarter to stop coming at people like this when they ask you to. There are no peanuts at the ends of those tunnels. Nobody wins. My children don't benefit when I sob with pain. That is not the picture of manhood that I imagined passing on to them when my wife demanded use of my reproductive plumbing and made me wear cold underpants and drink too many smoothies from Jamba Juice. Effing Jamba Juice with their "manly" boost...it does NOTHING (note lack of hair on flabby chest).
Whining about sports...this should add something to my robust humility. I'm just glad I work in a job full of validation and kindly support. Animation.

All kidding aside...softball is fun...I really like the people....and I always appreciate it when Aimee breaks one of my fingers...after ten years of marriage I'll take any kind of affection....Sports! Sports! Sports! Yayyyyyyy SPORTS!

****UPDATE***: Just finished this weeks game and my team, "When Pigs Fly" took a heartbreaking loss of 35 to 6 (I lost count so I made up their number). Only dropped a couple of balls. Went for a double and a single. Hooorah! Two more games left. GO PIGS!

Cheers.

2008-03-26T01:10:00.000-07:00

When the blind follow the blind, Y'all walk off the cliff together. Well, I'm teaching again so I suppose I'm looking fer some good ol blind folk to give me a shove. It is a strange bedfellow, the idea of teaching a messy subject such as story. I can't really claim to be a master, pro, or even semi-pro at this gig... more of a survivor. I've been at it for ten years now (hard to believe...been hitched for just as long...Lawdy Lawdy), and I've had many ups and downs trying to tell stories in this fickle business. But what I really love, and have always loved, is the pure energy that comes from working the job and exploring ideas. It is from this approach that I've always really gotten a jazz (that's right... A JAZZ)from teaching. I've done it in the past (brick and mortar style) and think I was ok at not messing up anyone's hopes or dreams. I've always looked back fondly at those who mentored me in such a way as to let me have my opinions and gave me the room to discover my own voice. Sometimes I was lazy and these teachers would kick my ass...sometimes I was cocky and they'd take me down a peg...sometimes I was discouraged and they helped me dust off...I think it is the human side of the job that makes it important and worth doing. There is no "right" or "wrong" way to break story...there are mechanics and techniques that bring craft and focus to the job, but for me, story is all about communicating ideas. The trick is honing in on the idea worth telling, and then figuring out how to get that idea out there without getting it all bloated and gooey. Ain't nothing worse than a good idea that was dropped under the fridge and matted with old cat hair. So the class will deal with mechanics and break down the fundamentals of story structure, but the meat will be the conversations that come from going back and forth from the assignments that will hopefully generate strong ideas. I don't think I'm completely full of crap (83% crap to be precise), but I've had my share of successes and failures and I'm willing to pass on what I knows.

Check out all the great stuff they've got going on over there at Schoolism. I am truly intimidated at the wealth of brilliance they have teaching the other classes... it is humbling to be in such incredible company. Mr. Chiu and Mr. Silver are old friends that have really built up the foundation for this enterprise.

I'm great at spillin', lousy at pluggin'. spa-tooon.

Cheers,
Kris.

Down by the bay...

2008-03-10T00:53:00.001-07:00

"In the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king".
a line from Singapore, by Tom Waits.

Always makes me think of the animation business.
Hey I only have one eye...one eye that works good anyway. I ain't king of shit. Where is this land o the blind. Its good to be king...so I've been told. Of course, the higher one rises, the harder one falls. We'll see.

I'll stay a one eyed grunt for the time being. Better to eat crumbs and survive. Here, here, to all ye kindly rodents in the dark wet holes of the earth. Be ye muskrat, mouse or beaver, ye be kin. Smile and chew your wood and don't complain when your gums bleed...a little wet salt softens the stump. Yummy.

Thanks Mr. Waits for the muse. Buy "Rain Dogs" if you like good things. It is a good thing to put in your ears.

Hope all is well in the land of the blog.
Signed,
Cris Perrin of the provincial lot, 3B, Longwoods way around Iroquois Shore, behind the Black Oak, third house on the left. Where the wild cheese grows.

Doodle pooh

2008-02-27T01:15:00.000-08:00

I had to doodle at work today to test out a new digital pipeline. Scribbled out this pile of crud, but since I haven't posted in a very long time I figured it was better than nothing.

Can you help me with a conundrum?

I have a six pound cat that kicks the shit out of my eighty pound German Shepherd, and an eighty pound German Shepherd who often beats the tar out of a two hundred pound walleyed white guy who likes to torment her by blowing into her body holes (mostly the ears and nostrils, but it all depends on the mood and how much beer is in the fridge). So, my philosophical question...If you get beaten by a smaller animal who gets beaten by an even smaller animal, do you still have to fight the smallest animal or is it honorable to just say they both kicked your ass?

If I was a Roman Athiest, my worst fear would be a public mauling in the arena by house cats. Far slower and more humiliating than a Lion any day. They have raspy little tongues. Horrible. I feel sorry for any of you out there who put any trust in the loyalty of a cat. Fools. Might as well elect an Alien to be King of Earth. That's just what this planet needs, a new King. Perhaps a marsupial...like Peter Jackson?

kristin.

The New Kid

2008-01-22T00:31:00.000-08:00

I was hanging out with my kids on Sunday playing some drawing games (we do this when they aren't training to become lethal killing machines poised to resist as warrior soldiers on the front lines of a rebellion for freedom from the massive corporations that will someday seize control of our Western Democracy! F-You Jiffy Lube!), and another dragon scibble pooped out. I slapped it with some regular old kid paint (the kind you buy at the Dollar Store. F-You Dollar Store!). A moment in time, never to repeat. La dee da!

Hope all is well out there in the big wide world.
Cheers,
Kris.

Happy New Year!

2008-01-11T00:02:00.000-08:00

It's 2008 and I can't say I really feel all that different. I guess its another year further away from my childhood, which is a drag. I had a great Holiday break though. Mama Sony gave us all three days off so I got to spend a good week with my wife and kids...and you know what...clear of all the stress and work crap I think I actually still kind of LIKE my family! No shit...and I have this sinking suspicion that they may LIKE me aswell. Who knew. Makes me wonder why we bother getting all stressed out. I'd make a resolution to avoid all conflict and worry in 2008, but I think I would just get really worried about not getting worried and I'm sure I would blow the crud out of that resolution in the first week and find some way to blame my little girls for causing me to fret for the sake of a lousy test score, messy rooms, toilets clogged with Princess Lego, or the violation of my seventy pound manly dog with bubble gum sparkly lip stick...AND how can I not worry about my lovely wife and her constant need for attention and eye contact and conversation ....sheeesh....so much pressure. And work....WORK....I mean it's not like I'm marching off into a cole mine or I have to get up at four in the morning to put my arm into a cow's vagina to deliver a breach calf (the life I wanted when I was a kid...read James Herriot....It always makes me miss the smell of Bovine)...But somehow...that worry still creeps in. I guess that's life. Maybe my resolution is to not to worry about worry and just let the worry happen when it wants to happen and try not to worry about it. That, and of course, to stop being fat. Learn to like Rush because they're Canadian, and for some reason that matters. Eat organic. Read Chaucer. And try not to die.

Done and done. Well here are some more color sketches I worked on over the break. Almost through my first color sweep of this darn book! Hopefully have it finished up by Summer (2018). Anybody got any advice on where to find a good font?
Cheers,
Kris.

Dem Bones

2007-12-01T21:54:00.000-08:00

I drew this last weekend at the LaBrea Tar Pits. These are the remains of an American Lion reconstructed and on display at the Page Museum. This has always been one of my favorite spots to visit in LA LA land, and if you ever get a chance to check it out, I don't want to over hype this, but its definitely worth the gander. For me, I take great comfort in the lack of permanence on this planet. No matter what we do, in time, all that will remain is a starved outline if we are lucky. I am fascinated at the possibilities presented in these Natural History Museums...LA, a city of millions, covered in pavement and chain link, crack whores and worse...celebrities. And yet, many thousands of years ago there existed a classic life or death struggle between those that eat and those that get eaten. Giant Sloths, Saber tooth Cats, Lions, Rhinos, Miniature Horses...and that's just what shows up on the fossil record. I am not going to hide my firm belief in Darwin's theory and yet I can only marvel and wonder at the gaps contained within. In the Origin Of Species, Mr. Darwin waxes eloquently about the vast spans of time on record and the fact that for every species recorded in rock, there are undoubtedly thousands that are missed. So many mysteries that are out there to be found. Who knows what lies beneath each stone in our collective back yards. Who knows what will await OUR bones in the next two thousand years. I guess, between the challenge of handling the basic architecture of the skeletons combined with the fantasy of a California where these beasts roamed (or Monsters as Mr. Darwin named them), there is much reward for these drawing experiences.

Speaking of great experiences, in the past couple of weeks I have had the pleasure of witnessing two incredible movies. The first was No Country For Old Men and I will not analyze it here (as I don't want to give ANYTHING away) but I wish to relay that I don't think there was a second where my interest wavered and not a character that I did not have a reaction to. Amazing storytelling. The second was Enchanted...yes Enchanted. I am a cynical, angry animation guy and yet sitting in the theater with my kids I was amazed at how the whole audience was literally lifting off of its seats to embrace this very sweet tale of love unfolding on the big screen. I was one of them. It was a thoroughly enjoyable experience and I have to say I consumed every second of it with eager interest and investment. Not many films have that effect on me anymore. As with my opinions on No Country For Old Men, I do not wish to analyse Enchanted...It probably wasn't perfect...I just really liked it. Sometimes when faced with all the bitterness and hateful crap that is spewed out there on the blog-o-sphere(my own rants included...and I hate using contrite catch phrases like this piddly pun, blog-o-sphere, as much as I hate the term LOL...nobody f@#king Laughs out Loud...Puddle of snot, I'm ranting again...We're talking about love not hate you cheeseheaded slit prick... breath...calm energy...we're being positive...back to the subject...now), I need films like these combined with great drawing experiences to remind me that Dogma of any nature is inherently false and sometimes it is worth it to let stuff wash over you. It is easy to stick your thumb up your arse and say that everything new is crap and everything old is good, or vice versa...I think I'd just like stick my thumb up my arse for pleasure of sticking my thumb up my arse. Screw the Dogma.

Here are some more sketches from that day...sitting in the courtyard of LACMA (LA County Museum of Art...right beside the Tar Pits) drawing people waiting to go into the Dali touring exhibit. Not claiming that these are brilliant...but I had fun with the day. What else matters.

The Dragon Riders of Nez Perez and a Rant

2007-11-17T20:33:00.000-08:00

I painted this a while back...I was playing with using the monochromatic colors found in the photography of Edward S. Curtis to give this image an old timey feel. I've always been fascinated by Native American culture and am a huge fan of Mr. Curtis' work. The idea for this image came to me from a story I've been trying to crack for a long time. Sometimes roughing up some imagery provides a needed abstraction to dislodge an idea that is stuck in the creative mud. My mind wanders and this kind of stuff often helps me pin it down (rough as it is).

Speaking of stories...I have another rant to get off of my chest. As a young white kid growing up at the tail end of the eighties in rural Ontario, I was so full of hatred for the popular culture of the time I found most of my influences rooted in the music from a previous, cooler generation. AC/DC's "Long Way To The Top (If You Want To Rock and Roll)" is, and I will not back down from this, probably the greatest song with bagpipes ever written. Bon Scott is a hero (minus the drowning in a pool of vomit thing), and to the geeky anti-social dick-wad I was at the time, he was a voice of hope and a beacon of sanity for the future I prayed would some day come. I don't really know what that means, but when I hear Dirty Deeds, or Highway to Hell, there is some rush that fills all the lonely parts of my chubby self with a happy anger that throbs a confidence from within that usually lays apathetic and dormant in my pathetic shell. For some reason, when I hear "no stop signs, speed limits...nobody's gonna slow me down"...for that brief moment, my life is a little more awesome. F YA!
So, where am I going with all this and why bring it up now. Well, when I was fifteen I could not fully openly flaunt my love of this artform because of the lack of understanding from the ol' folks in my life (of course, that is what rock and roll is all about, but hey, I hate confrontation). So I always figured when I growed up, I would be able to rock out anywhere, anytime, because cool music is cool music no matter the genre (believe me, I put Cracklin' Rosie and The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald right up there with ol' Bon), but apparantly it t'ain't so boss. I was in the car with my gals and on the radio came "It's a Long Way To The Top..." and by the time the bagpipe solo landed, my two female kids were literally in tears of pain as if I were ramming grapefruits into their ears with a bal peen hammer, and my wife was looking at me with that same look she reserves for when I fart in public. I now realize...that nothing friggin changes! When I was a kid I was stuck tortured by the painful wailing of Celine and the soundtrack to that crappy movie Cocktail under the brutal regime of my parents, and now I'm yolked under the horrific weight of Hannah Montana, High School "the world needs to end soon please" f@#king Musical and of course Dora "everything I say I will YELL because that is how I will imprint my plot of world domination through mass marketing and the need for your children to consume my crappy stuff" the Explorer.
I will never be cool. Life is not like an eighties movie...nobody else likes your music, and you will never have your own dance spontaneously catch on to make you the most popular person on the planet for ten minutes. Thank the sweet baby Jeebus for headphones and Pina Colada coolers. I think tonight when everybody in my house goes to bed, instead of searching the internet for naked ladies (I've heard talk of people doing this), I will curl up in a quiet corner of the bathroom, behind the toilet where they say to go in case of tornadoes, and with the door locked, listen to Ride On and cry myself to sleep. Perhaps Mr. Bon Scott, Miss Joplin and that guy from the Beatles died for all of our sins. I wish the pop stars of today would do the same.

If this makes no sense then please accept my apology. I said at the top "my mind wanders" and it does.
KP

a trip to the museum

2007-11-11T21:26:00.000-08:00

Took a trip to the museum this weekend. I had fun quick sketching with the tablet PC. Since these animals don't move much (considerin' they're dead, Earl), it's a lot of fun to slap down a quick coat of color.

Here are a couple of new paintings for the book. Things have slowed down quite a bit since work got busy. Still pushing to finish it some time before the world ends.

One last quick sketch of Coquette. Whipped this up sitting in a park at night. I like the fact that I can paint in the dark with the Tablet...Usually I'm sitting in a well lit room and guessing...now I can sit outside with all the colors of night and still guess. I'm a hack but a happy hack....

With a really big dog.
Kris.

2007-09-06T13:52:00.000-07:00

I painted this last batch of stuff for the book from the road....We've been galavanting for most of August...Love my Tablet PC...I can now paint on an airplane. What a country indeed.

Anyhow, if you ever get a chance to head up to your local national park, (we spent a week in Yosemite) do it. We must remind ourselves every now and then that we are animals and it is good to walk unprotected among large preditory cats, bears and big, big, big assed four hundred year old trees. Makes one feel small, but in a good way. Not like a meeting with animation executives but like a conversation with higher intelligence.

I never put up photos, but I like this one. I look so relaxed. I feel bad for those kids though. They have very little chance of turning out normal. The pretty lady with the tongue is my lovely wife Aimee. She sheds a lot, but at least we don't fight. Never ever.
KP.

Blaaaahhhhh!!!!

2007-08-15T18:55:00.000-07:00

I didn't know I had it in me...this much pink.

A friend at work asked us all to do princess drawings for a little four year old girl named Sara with cancer. I've spent many hours in the pink aisle at Target with my two gals so I thought I would tap into that experience and out came this little ditty. For a fat ugly troglodyte walleyed white guy who still can't talk to girls, somehow I managed to make this thing. I dare say I don't want to think too hard about what this says about me as an artist/human being...If I didn't know the guy that painted it I'd say he was a mental case of the highest order. Whatever... it was fun. Why not toss it out there into cyberspace for the ten people who read this thing (I am thankful to all of you!)

I wish Sara and her family all the best.

KP

Ps...I know there is really only six of us reading this (myself included...and Mom)...but if we hold our hands up and shake them around we look a lot bigger.
grooooowwwwwl.

Smore paintings and stuff

2007-07-31T13:35:00.000-07:00

I'm heading back to the fatherland in a few days so I wanted to pinch off one last post before climbing on board a plane to Detroit.
I gave my four year old daughter the kiddie equivilant to blue balls this past Sunday. Allow me to explain. In preparation for this trip back up North of the border, I had to hit a shop in Downtown Disney to pick up a gift for my brand new neice (the Pearn breeding program is going quite well). So I had Emma with me as we parked at Disneyland...brought her into the shopping area... made our requisite purchase... and left her hanging. You see, Disneyland is RIGHT THERE!!! In previous years I had taken out a mortgage to invest the family in a year membership (blacked out on weekends, summer, Christmas and any other shitty day you might want to go), so this occurance of popping into the house of mouse for a little wham bam thank you mam play session is not uncommon in Emma's young four year old life. She was ratcheted. She was salivating for a zip ta do on the good ol mary go round, followed up with a touch of small world and maybe cap the whole thing off with a spin on the dandy choo choo train...but NO. T'was not to be so. Poor Emma, standing there at the threshold to the happiest place on earth, emotionally erect to the possibilies of whimzy and bliss, only to be dashed by the chubby white retard who drove her there standing over her yelling "we can't afford it! Daddy is poor and hasn't got the self esteem to go out and earn more money so you'll have to take those tiny dreams you've been chewing on and supress them until you're older so you can pass this disappointment on to your own children, and maybe then, in the glow of their sadness, feel somewhat better about your own pathetic life."

The kid has to learn, right?
Anyhooo...probably didn't make the whole thing any better by walking her into the entrance kiosk only to show her a glimpse behind the gate into the park, and then remark at the blissfully happy people inside and tell her that these people were better loved than the both of us. I even bought a churro and ate it in front of her. I'm a bastard, but its better she know now than carry this illusion of Daddy worship to an unhealthy age.

On a side note, I'm loving my Tablet PC and thanks to a suggestion from my friend Bobby, I've been taking it with me to coffee shops and doing a ton of drawing. I am rusty, but having a ton of fun.

Unlike Emma.

Bye.

2007-07-02T09:18:00.000-07:00

Here's some new paintings from my book...this is keeping me pretty busy. I'm really loving the work flow of digital painting. It is like having a studio worth of paint and brushes in a tiny box that I can bring everywhere with me...what a country! I find that many of the same techniques I like to use for acrylic painting on Masonite translate well to the digital medium...dark base coat, build up the volume, and lots of glazing to keep the color alive.

On a side note, my dog last week was involved in a gastric event of unpleasant circumstance. Difficulty in masticating the refuse from a wasteful bin of offal left from an over fed bi-pedal familiar clan (she got into our garbage and ate chicken goo), her insides rebelled processing the feast not in its usual solid, convenient packaging of brown sausage shaped pills waiting for collection by host and man servant (me), but instead erupted in a volcanic spilling of viscous liquid, random in its need for evacuation.
And so it went, that in intervals of quiet revelation before the flat paneled god of commerce and the dogmatic cult of distraction (TV), the lounging wolf kin would suddenly leap to her paws and urgently motion in request for an exit to the outside world, a convenient toilet for her still undomesticated needs. Following my charge out into the warm LA sun, I watched as she wobbled and hopped, bow legged like a irritable cowboy, hot off the saddle and needing to lay an egg, not wanting to crack or damage such a frail vessel, shuffling to find a soft spot for the precious boweletic gift from the heavens. Finding safe purchase, a well surveyed track of turf, she allowed her biology to release that which was her torment and alleviate the building pressure...right directly on top of an ant hill.
And here is the point and reason of this digression. A thought that has been haunting me and keeping me awake at night. Those ants! Those unsuspecting ants! a complete society functioning and thriving in the soft Southern Californian sand, suddenly contaminated and assaulted by a torrent of squirty dog pooh. If these ants, being living organisms habituating upon this earth, were like us in even the smallest of fashion, capable of consciousness, then I ask: WHAT KIND OF RELIGION WOULD THEY HAVE TO INVENT TO EXPLAIN THE EVENT OF TORNADIC DOG SHIT FROM THE SKY? Is this the apocalypse for a cosmopolitan race of insect, turning survivors into rogue agents, hunting and organizing as possible in an ant sized Mad Max of an epic? Or is this manna from heaven, a delicious gift from the gods, brown gold, food food, a boom? I'll never know for sure, as alas, I am not an ant. I am a grunt holding a plastic bag of liquidy dog pooh. So be it.

2007-06-12T23:51:00.000-07:00

Still monkeying around with the tablet PC. I've started color sketches for my book. I've just finished the pencil roughs so am excited to move onto the next step. This whole thing is moving too damn slow, but its hard to stay motivated when work gets busy. I am loving the digital painting (although I don't really know what I'm doing...a lot of guessing). I'm hoping my style evolves as I get used to working this way. That's why I'm keeping it very loose until I move through to the end...get all the bugs out and find my confidence before I really dig into final painting.
No story this week. I'm tired. Too many dang meetings...sucks the creative pimento from my idea olive. Yum. Salty.
Meanwhile, I'm having tons of fun with the purdy colors.
Keep yer heads up.
KP.

new toy

2007-06-05T02:46:00.000-07:00

I just got a new tablet PC today and I'm trying to get the hang of it. I'm a mac guy so the whole windows thing is pretty messed up (there is nothing intuitive about this system...or maybe I'm just heavily swayed by the cool apple marketing...Damn you futuristic apple stores!!!! DAMN YOUUUU!).
Well, since mac doesn't offer an official tablet, and the moc thingy is too dang expensive, I'm on a pc for the forseeable future. It ain't so bad. It's like eating tofu. Kinda tasteless, but doesn't make me gag too bad. I do feel like I'm cheating on my dogma. Do I still believe in evolution?
Anyhow, here's the virgin drawing.
Kris.

A story

2007-05-27T23:28:00.000-07:00

Axa was tired. It had been a long day, and he’d been kicked a few times too many. Pigs were often mean, especially during the impaling. He was getting old and was feeling his years in his bones. It would be his time soon. He wasn’t afraid of being impaled. He had trained his crew, and they’d stick him well. He wouldn’t feel a thing. Those who eat will, in the end, be eaten. That is the way of life. He accepted this.
The only worry he carried with him was for his humans, the young male and the very old female. He had found the female at the beginning, when they first began farming this planet. Back then, there were humans everywhere. When impaled properly with good weather conditions, they became flavorful and fetched a sizable return on the open market, off setting the meager amount of meat on the average stock. But human domestication proved difficult. The humans were stubborn, disease ridden and prone to violence. Despite their size and lack of biological weaponry, they were resourceful, able to use tools, and often organized in reaction to threat. After many incidents of conflict, it was decided that the humans were not worth the effort when compared to pigs and bovines, which produced far more meat and were not so difficult to manage. Human breeding was stopped and most were slaughtered quickly. Some live specimens were shipped out through the trade routes finding cache in private collections and the occasional zoo. While the elimination of the human race was unfolding, Axa kept the female, protected her, and managed to save her life, thanks mostly to his rank. So she stayed with him, while the rest of her kind was exterminated. Like Axa, she was also growing old, sick, and weak. He would have to impale her soon. He would give her a good death. It was the boy for whom his worry had no solve. The boy had too much life left in him to waste.
The boy came to Axa when a pod of wild humans was discovered in the mountains, caught and shipped to Axa’s processing field for impalement. Axa impaled the adults without conscious thought until he came to the male child. There was something in the infant’s eyes that made him hold his stake and he came to the realization that he could not kill the whelp. So he gave it to the old female and she cared for it. As the boy grew, his propensity to creation was obvious. He seemed to find the human form in almost anything he saw, and built sculptures out of wood and metal, littering the impaling yard with his humanoid statues. The others in Axa’s division feared this and wanted the boy dead, but Axa would not allow it.
So as Axa’s day of impalement came closer, he would have to set the boy free somewhere in the wild. There are legends of human tribes living wild in the deepest forests of the planet, and that is where he would send the boy. If the boy were the last human, then he would have to survive alone. Or die alone. All Axa could do was give him a chance. The rest was up to luck and fate…and a young human male, named Ranne.

-I was cleaning out my office and I found this drawing.

I remember doodling it in a story meeting about a year earlier. While I was trying to recall what kind of chemicals I'd been on at the time, I thought that maybe there was a story in the scribble. So I wrote a response to the sketch and redrew the image to make it prettier. You never know where an idea will come from...so save everything.
Kris.-

It's been a while, here's something from my sketchbook

2007-05-17T15:21:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted in a while and for that I am truly sorry. It got really busy at work really fast and in the middle of that we (we being the members of my immediate family) had to vacate our humble home so they could drape a tent over it and gas the life out of our termite neighbors.

I did this drawing while eating breakfast with my daughter. I was trying to solve some work related story problems in my notebook and ran out of ideas, so I drew the kid instead. Even when I draw from life it tends to come off cartoony (nothing shameful there, I’m a cartoonist), but I was trying to catch the look she was giving me where she knows I'm drawing her, and she likes the attention, but she's also a little self conscious at the same time, because she’s seven and a girl and weird and stuff, and she has a mouthful of cinnamon puffins.

On a side note, my Mom found my blog by typing my name into Google, and she called me to give me crap for all the swearing. Sure, sometimes I write a little strong. It helps me communicate the thoughts in my head…besides, is it MY fault those thoughts are there? I mean, SHE raised me…so really; I am a victim when it comes to the guttural nature of my manner. Now, following that logic, if my kids grow up to be arsholes, than that IS my fault. I take full responsibility for their shortcomings. My seven year old seems ok, good happy kid and all, but I’m pretty sure the four year old is already an arshole. Yesterday she poured a whole bottle of kid mouthwash on her wooden rocking horse and then smeared it with baby powder. While Aimee was cleaning that up, she dumped a full jar of fish food into the tank and shaved the dog. Ok, she didn’t shave the dog, but she did everything else and that makes her an arshole, right. Sh@#! I’m swearing again. F*%# I said sh*#. F##! I said f%$. Sh$#f*&@cr*p this is getting gratuitous! MOM I’M SORRY! Christ…who else is reading this?

I am a nice person. Please like me.
Kris.

2007-04-09T16:42:00.000-07:00

So I've had this fantasy ever since I was a kid…no not the one about the pool full of rice pudding… no not the one where the stripper cheerleaders are having a pillow fight in the rain… no not the one where AC DC pulls into my gas station and are so impressed with my squeegee skills they offer me a full time gig as a personal roadie…
Yes…The one about the rhino and how cool it would be to ride one around town like some kind of urban yuppie barbarian. Nobody would fuck with the rhino dude, right?

Well I'm looking after my oldest daughter for two weeks sans wife and baby sister, and we're doing some serious one on one parental/child bonding. I took her to the San Diego zoo on Friday and well, turns out she's got this fascination with Rhinos as well. “They poop like cows…can I ride one?” Brought a tear to my one good eye.
So then, a day or two later, we're hanging out cleaning up her room and it hits me that she's growing up sooooo goddamn fast. I don't know what triggered this observation…something small. The way she holds her head with one hip kicked out like a teenager….or maybe the fact that she's discovered sarcasm and is able to quip at me the way my wife used to back when we still liked each other enough to pay attention to such things. I dunno, but I suddenly realized that in many ways, she is riding a rhino right now and it is coming straight for my ass. I can try to out run it, but that's impossible. It's too big and fast to dodge and no matter what I do, it's going to trample the crap out of me. When it's all said and done, and the dust clears, I'll be broke, tired, and old from all the worry.
But here's the thing. I WANT to be trampled by this thing. I WANT my kids to roll over me and leave without looking back, because that is the whole point of growing up. The rhino under their asses is the same one that I had under me…that drove me into a career in animation…brought me to LA….keeps me a slave to a corrupt studio system….

fuck, I think my rhino is dead!........ No wait....its still breathing! Maybe some fight left in her yet.

Someday, in the next year or so, I'll move my wife and kids back to Canada, find a small plot of land, and pick up a couple of cows of my own to raise and eat. Its no rhino…but hey, at least they poop the same.

2007-04-04T22:47:00.000-07:00

So I hung out in Banff this weekend for a conference on Story telling. I learned a lot from the wisdom of George Georgeadis, Josh Staub, and the legendary Ronnie Del Carmen (a brilliant story man and all around classy guy). I also got to hang out and meet a great collection of interesting people, some old friends, and many new ones. Banff is a beautiful part of the world and I enjoyed being out in the snow and trees.
I embarrassed myself as usual when I get into such situations and fell victim to my own anti social ways. On the last evening, I had downed too much libation and was standing in an overcrowded dance bar while the tequila mixed with the throbbing strobe lights and the music pummeled my head like a hungry walrus on a can of tuna. I was so filled with a sudden anxiety that I just had to get the fuck out of there…I don’t know what it is in my head that triggers this reaction but I cannot blame it on my old age. I’ve done this kind of stunt before and I’ll probably do it again. I think I may actually just simply be an asshole and I really feel bad for that. Sorry.
Anyhow, walking through the streets of Banff at two thirty in the morning, trying to find a suitable snow bank to die in, I get to thinking about bears. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again… being mauled to death by a bear, while horrible and not at all comedic in any way, is not without its attraction to me. I think no matter how big a pussy you are in life, when a bear rips you to shreds and feeds on your carcass, nobody could say you had a wasteful demise...Hey the poor guy was hungry...who am I to judge. Alas, no bear found me appetizing so I was left to wake with my shame and a pretty bad headache.
Thanks to all the swell folks who were kind enough to hang out with me. It was an inspiring weekend. For those of you who have never been to Banff, definitely go if you get a chance (at least say the word Banff out loud to yourself a few times...its like shagging a tempurpedic pillow...Bannnnnfffff).
Also, check out my new friend Josh Staub’s short film The Mantis Parable on I-Tunes. It is a brilliant piece of work that Josh made completely from scratch, 100% by himself. Including the music.
Cheers,
Kris.

2007-03-27T15:13:00.000-07:00

I broke my dog last week. We live in a crappy little overpriced condo near a beach, an airport, and a shit treatment plant in lovely Los Angeles, and one of the perks is a rotten old tennis court in the back yard. Since the pavement is all pocked up and cracked, nobody plays anything that resembles tennis in it, leaving the space to my kids on their bikes, my dog and me. So I was throwing a hardball against the wall and practicing my fielding (as I am now an all star chubby white guy on a Sony softball team), and while I was doing this, my shepherd was going ape shit also trying to field the ball. The harder I threw it against the wall, the more violent the bounce, the happier my dog would get as she charged like a rabid squirell on a shaved nut. Unfortunately, the constant stopping and sprinting...stopping and sprinting...stopping and sprinting, seemed to be tearing the crap out of the poor thing's feet and by the time I realized the damage it was doing, she was already in bad shape. Two days later it looked as if the wounds were getting infected resulting in five hundred dollars worth of vet bills. So my poor pooch is now wrapped up and not allowed to run for two weeks.

So, I've taken to blading at night by myself and while I do miss her company, it is kind of peaceful and probably not quite so dangerous (funny how a seventy pound slobbering beast can add an element of risk to your life when you put wheels on your feet). The other day while skating, I looked over to my left and was shocked to see a big ol' barn owl flying about ten feet off the ground, seemingly keeping pace with me. We must have rode like that for a good five minutes and I have never seen anything like it before in my life. I am pretty sure if the dog was there, I would've been on my ass watching as she tried desperately to eat herself an owl.

It did get me thinking, of course, about the idea of preditor and prey. The owl is a well defined killing machine. I, on the other hand, am not, and yet what greater preditor is there than man? I then wondered about the wheels on my feet and how it really isn't a bad way to locomote. Is it not wierd, that in nature, there is no such animal that moves with wheels on their feet? Is there a God? When that day finally comes that I tragically lose both my feet (and it will come) I will demand to have a set of wheels permanently attached to the remaining bone. I think it will serve me well in the post apocolyptic america of the future. I will be able to hunt down and devour all the owls I can eat (so long as there are no stairs or sand during the chase).

Without kid logic, I would be an idiot.

2007-03-09T23:27:00.000-08:00

It's been pretty stupid busy the last week so I'm afraid I don't have much here to post. I pulled this silly little doodle from my sketchbook. I was waiting for a train when I did this...just playing with shapes. I've never been much of a designer, especially when it comes to the technical stuff...but it doesn't take much in the way in of brains to experiment.
In other news:
I was lying on the floor of my kid's room two nights ago, playing dinosaurs with my two year old. My oldest girl, who is 6 now, stepped over me and started climbing up the ladder to the top bunk of her bed. She was wearing a dress, and since I have the mentality of an eight year old, I started singing "I see London, I see France...I can see your underpants." Well, we all shared a touching family giggle, and I went back to playing dinosaurs. A second after my attention wandered I had a pair of kid panties in my face. When I moved them away, the child on the ladder was hanging a few inches from my face, wiggling her bare ass and singing at the top of her lungs "SMELL MY STINKY BOOTY". My mind went through a whole convulsion of horror which silently escalated to a brain splitting WHERE THE FUCK DID THAT COME FROM kind of reaction. Of course, I didn't say that to my six year old...no, I said something like...."Sweetie...these are things you do with your mother..."
So do I blame TV or do I blame genetics? Is it cartoon network's fault or is it that I accidently caught the Redneck gene when I was seventeen and making a living pumping gas at the Lambeth Olco on Talbot Street in London Ontario? Sure I sniffed that stuff...mostly by accident...but maybe sometimes as a coping mechanism. Come to think of it, before that year I think my eyes were still straight. I suppose most blame in life cannot be placed any farther than one's own mirror.

Of course, life is to be enjoyed, and I wish only bliss for my kids. If anybody out there has this parenting thing figured out...let me know.
Kris.

a few more doodles

2007-02-20T23:17:00.000-08:00

A couple more roughs for my book. Pages 6 and 7. I'm hooked on Sushi. Does that make me a yuppie?
Crap.
Kris.

Along for the ride

2007-02-12T23:03:00.000-08:00

There are few pleasures in my life that I hold so dear as that of trusting my anatomy and fragile human vessel to the energy and whim of a sixty pound German Shepherd. I live in Los Angeles, which means we don't have winter, and there is a lot of perfectly good pavement...EVERYWHERE! At first this really messed me up. You don't know how it feels to go through tree withdrawl (I wander around Home Depot just to be close to wood), but over the years I have found ways to cope, and my new favorite hobby is strapping little wheels to my feet and hanging on for my miserable life while my big assed scary killer of a crotch wolf runs the stupid out of her system on a four mile stretch of sidewalk that lays parallel to the well fortified, homeland secured and locked down with chain link fence, LAX International airport. And last night I crossed a very depressing threshold with the fact that I think I may have actually fallen asleep while hurlting down the road at the speed of hound (yeah its a bad pun...piss off, its my blog). I got home pretty late last night and I've been working some stupid hours in the old animation factory and juggling that with the normal volume of urine soaked bedsheets and incescent cries for boo boo kisses and body flips from those little things that live in my house. I dare say that the calming effect of the wheels on the road combined with the soothing roar of the majestically humongous stinky jet airliners, conspire to lullaby my flabby arse to a dangerous state of restful intoxication. If I were to die tomorrow, I would hope it to be in a gun battle with my sworn enemy, mauled by a mountain lion, or as a sacrifice to the Gods of Rock...not from a tiny stone on a stretch of sidewalk that I failed to dodge because the wind on my cheeks nuzzeled me like a mother koala in a bed made of cotton candy. Head over heels and heels over head...straight into pavement and fuck...your dead! I'd probably land on the bag of crap...but that doesn't bother me. Nothing wrong with crap on a conceptual level. Its all part of the circle of life. I actually take comfort in the thought that I don't think the dog would run away. I think she would stay and wait for help.
I like dogs. I get dogs. Dogs are good. I wish more people were like dogs. You can read a dog. Dogs will pull you on wheels. My kids won't do that. You tell me where the unconditional love is.
I should really wear a helmet.

Kris.

2007-02-04T16:20:00.000-08:00

Here are the next three roughs in the book. Page five is a fold out page from four. I'm having fun doodling these up in my sketchbook during lunch breaks and after the kids go to bed at night. It's been so busy at work I can't find the time to finish anything so I've given up trying, and am just having fun drawing loose and playing with design.
Speaking of my kids, I do love them, but I have this nagging worry that they are pure evil and I don't really know what to do about it. I can only hope that in the coming years of apocolypse, they will find their true calling for mass destruction on a scale that far out weighs what they can do to my crappy little box of a condo that we pay far too much for in order to live close to a beach that quite often smells like human pooh. There are things they can't teach you in college and I feel like my girls are well versed in anarchy and rebellion. I suppose if the politics of this country stay their course, then there will be plenty of work for those who wish to overthrow governments and corporations. It doesn't matter what they choose to do with their lives, so long as they do it well.
Toodaloo for now.
Kris.

first post on my new blog

2007-02-01T20:07:00.000-08:00

I've been slogging away on a few stories I wrote for my girls when they were little (actually they're still little, but they've already become jaded and bitter with life...I am proud). These are rough, pencil on paper.

pages 1 and 2.

Kris.