Monday, September 21, 2009

Long-range Chicken

Who knew my first showing at a gallery would be of a flying chicken?

Tuesday night I've got a piece in a group show called "Urban Myths and Legends" at the Argyle Fine Art gallery in Halifax. It's in conjunction with the animation component of the Atlantic Film Festival and apparently they're having their after-party at the gallery to coincide with the show opening. There will be music, food, good times and flying chickens.

I won't able to make it but I wish the other 16 contributors and the gallery owner, Adriana Afford, all the best.

Thanks for the opportunity, Adriana!

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Somebody somewhere

I've been reading Rick Geary's graphic novel The Lindbergh Child recently and loving his drawing style. So tonight while watching Shawshank Redemption for the fifth or sixth time, I came up with this little portrait of nobody in particular in Geary's style. I'm digging him and David Levine this year.

Of course when it came time to scan, my scanner decided to give up the ghost. Thankfully, our new little Sony Cybershot point-and-shoot saved the day. I must say, I'm impressed with that little camera.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Damn grubs

The cabbage crop was a total failure this year. Although I suppose that depends on who you ask. No humans had a chance to eat it. Just grubs. Someone from work described to me the big bloated grubs she found at the base of what used to be her cabbages. Great image, I thought. Sure enough, mine shared the same fate.

I was going to do this in Illustrator but ran out of time tonight so I thought I'd share the rough sketch.


Jennifer from The Ruban Fringe came across my blog a while back and recently interviewed me for her blog. Thanks for the interest, Jennifer!

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

The beaten path

Well, summer seems to have ended abruptly and my landscaping adventure has yet to reach the driveway. But, as a former boss of mine would say, its back is broken.

I usually get about 5-6 feet of the path laid most Saturdays. It starts with a trip to the landscaping place. I go out back, ask for a pallet and start poking around the picking pile with a few other amateurs who also don't really know what they're doing.

I carefully select from the flagstone pile. If it's too thin, it won't settle properly. If it's too thick it'll be a job to make it level with others. I get a few that I can barely lift and the rest are medium to small pieces that I use to build around the big ones. I put as many on the pallet as I think my vehicle will hold and flag someone down to weigh it for me. Usually it's the same person: a gruff lady with little patience for landscaping newbies.

The first time I went through this process, she raised the pallet from the scale and shouted at me over the grumbling forklift, "Where's your truck?"

"Umm, it's the Golf down there," I said pointing towards the lot.

"A Golf!" She laughed out loud. I totally made her day. I laughed too.

Usually she deals with guys with giant pick-ups. She raises the full pallet above the back and wiggles the controls until all the rock clambers into an overflowing pile into the back. Not with me though. She drives to the lot, climbs down from the forklift and passes me pieces which I lay gingerly throughout the back of the car. If it's a big load, I put a few on the front seat.

She knows me now. I show up and she just brings me a pallet. It's like walking into your favourite bar and the bartender places your pint in front of you as you're settling into your seat. She's still a bit gruff but when it comes time to load up the car, I see a smile creep across her face.


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