These 5 sketchbook spreads will make you more stupid.

“Do male Medusas go bald?” 

You can’t un-read that dumb-ass question.

Space Banksy says: “I flew millions of light years to leave my art in your craps!” 

What if crop circles are “real”? Are they the equivalent of a teenager with a can of spray paint?

Are crop circles left by cosmic assholes who are actively disappointing their parents?

“It’s a dog-eat-dog world. But I’m a vegan.” 

To extend the animal metaphor, you can’t win the rat race if you’re not in it. But who wants to be a rat, anyway?

Why are all of the metaphors about getting ahead always animal-based? What does that say about the nature of success? That we lose our humanity to achieve it?

I know. That’s something a nihilistic 14-year-old boy would say.

 

 

Ninja Turtle to Squirrel: “… Dad?”
Squirrel: “Oh hell no. I always use condoms.” 

At what point did Splinter have to tell his kids that they were adopted?

Or did they figure it out on their own?

Donatello: “There’s no one in the universe that Pops could’ve banged to make us come out.”
Raphael: (storms out, breaks stuff)
Leonardo: I’ll go after him, I guess.
Michaelangelo: I’m going to eat my feelings. It’s a 3-pizza kinda day.

Ghosting: “I’m not going to text you back.” 

Was ghosting started by Casper-being passive-aggressive to his girlfriend?

Does your skull hurt from just skimming your eyes over that question?

I hope you found your visit to my sketchbook fun, if not intellectually enlightening.

5 Collage-Infused Sketchbook Spreads, Psychologically Examined

Sometimes I look at blank pieces of paper and hiss “stop stressing me out.”

I take them and slap some ripped-up magazines or whatever on top so that insidious whiteness can’t assault me any more. Then I usually glue or draw figures on top, because every page winds up needing some kind of character living on it. Abstraction never feels right on its own.

There are people out there who specialize in looking at what artists choose to draw and draw inferences (pun intended) accordingly.

“If you sketch weird or ugly faces, you are probably mistrustful.”

Uh-oh.

“One who is sensitive to living creatures, the type of animal is a great deal about the mood of the doodler and often the type that the person wants to be (ex: tiger means desire to be courageous, snake means sneaky).” What does a snake crawling out of a totem pole man-bird mean?

“Drawing Several Flowers in Order: desire to see sense of family/togetherness.” (source) What does that mean? And what happens if the flowers are the tail of some kind of ragweed-nightmare mermaid?

Drawing food allegedly indicates “need for love, desire to be filled up, of course it might indicate hunger/thirst.” (source) Hunger/thirst? Yep. I’m always starving.

My choice to draw a hermit crab means “slowness, lack of self-confidence, more introverted tendencies.” (source). True enough!

“Creating spontaneous cartoons aids in information processing. Doodlers who are able to portray emotion in simple drawings are great at discerning customer experience and behavior.” (source) False.

Hit and miss, but pretty interesting anyway!

May you all find deep psychological truths in your illustrations, Internet.

5 Witchy-Woman Sketchbook Spreads

Witches: true demonic evil, or just “nasty women”?

In celebration of the Women’s March, I present a variety of witches.

My favorite drawing here isn’t the gauged-ear witch (whoops, ears uneven), but the wonderful updo on the lass on the right. It’s very Something About Mary.

The mink shawl is thrilled to be there. The other girl was promised ice cream at this party, and isn’t sure if it’s awkward to leave. Is the ice cream coming later?

This page is a lot of things happening all at once. Mostly a bunch of eyes where they don’t belong, à la Guillermo del Toro.

Technically? No witches here. Just badass bitches.

I suspect the woman on the left is a vampire. The rabbits, however? Casting spells. Mostly fertility ones.

Thumbs-up to everyone who marched this weekend!

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5 Ink Brush Paintings From My Sketchbook

I’ve begun the arduous frenzy of scanning my last sketchbook. The scanner yawns and shrieks as the images get slurped into the digital realm. I love to touch the pages, feel the bumps of the acrylic and gouges of quill pens, before each scan.

My entire home is filled with skulls. Fanciful depictions, not real ones. My husband has a “no corpses in the house” policy.

^ I can’t remember precisely why I drew this little rabbit boy, but I suspect it had something to do with my in-laws’ tradition of cycling through A Christmas Story repeatedly over the holidays.

Both “dodo” and “poop” are funny words.

Even sideshow carnies need nice home decor. Perhaps especially sideshow carnies.

We lost Gene Wilder this year. I had to take a moment to celebrate Willie Wonka. And the Oompa Loompas.

God love the Oompa Loompas.

Any suggestions for what to draw next?

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A month’s worth of illustrations, plus bipartisan suggestions for the next 4 years.

While thinking (fretting) (panicking) about what the next four years will be like, I wondered, is there literally anything Donald Trump could do as president to to make me like him?

In between these illustrations, I have a few non-partisan suggestions that everyone in America can get behind.

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Make the Barenstain Bears the Barenstein Bears again. I think everyone would feel better if this creepy alternate-universe conspiracy were set to rights. Just make them officially the Barenstein Bears and we’ll all feel better.

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Cleaner gas station bathrooms. Sit to poo without fear, America.

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Bigger fireworks. Bigger! Sparklier! Make ’em ‘uuuuuuuuuge!

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Taco trucks on every corner. The Donald needs to reconsider disparaging this notion. It’d really perk everyone up.

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Banning the Chicken Dance from Large Gatherings. I wrote a letter to my wedding DJ about how he must not play this song on my Special Day under any circumstances. I’m not above writing a letter to President Trump to the same effect.

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Puppies. His family should adopt a shelter animal. A really cute one. Preferably a dog, not a cat, because everyone likes a dog. Cats are the snooty pets of liberal, elite ivy-tower types.

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Ticks. They’re the grossest, most terrifying threat to our nation. I just scratched my bosom and found one. I’ve never been bitten by an undocumented immigrant.

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And, most importantly,

Let us see inside Area 51. Please, Donny. We’re all dying to know.