Wednesday, April 30, 2008


one self portrait, one desperate monk, and one girl suffering from a birth defect-by the way, in china the number of birth defects has risen more than 40% since 2001.

Okay. I'll focus on just art soon. But thats what I say all the time.

Sunday, April 27, 2008

some art!

about time!!

Saturday, April 19, 2008


cause me headaches for the same reasons.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Parasite babies

Dont click on these links if your NOT OKAY with seeing babies with two faces/half a body attached to them.

I'm using these ideas in my upcoming finals.,2933,337492,00.html

can you tell who this is?

Part of a larger project!
EXCITING? maybe.

ps. the snowcone wont be there in the end

Monday, April 14, 2008


realized I forgot to post some more self portraits:


I tried to use the stuff we learned in class to make the old woman into dots.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Mother Mary

My class; intro to print paper book, has a show up on hte fourth floor. It'll only be up till wednesday so take a look if you get a chance. I have three pieces hanging up, and all have a similar theme. My color woodblock is about a greek story about a mother who is forced to eat her own children. Theres also a screenprint about my own mother and how she used to play the accordian, but due to the forces of nature, can't anymore. The prints breaking down cause my memory of it is breaking down, I'm watching my mom break down. Its weird. I didnt want to hang it up at all but my teacher LOVED it and really wanted it hung. The last print is rosie the riviter and the virgin mary combined.

So yeah. Moms. They keep showing up in my work. The last comic I made was about motherhood too. I don't really have a reason for pointing out this theme. I just wanted others to know i see it too.

Here is my favorite picture of mother mary (yes, I call her mother mary not mary or virgin mary. jenny pointed it out that I say it).

Wednesday, April 9, 2008


Here's a tiny bit of the story Im developing for my writing for children course. It's all based off of my childhood and people i knew/know. Im trying to write it all in little spurts, little fragments of memory. Once Im done I'll figure out the order of all of them.

all unedited. like sketches.


The best thing about summer is that I never see Brendon Taylor around. His parents divorced when he was young and his dad punches him around. I imagine that as a little boy, Brendon was sweet and calm, but with all the pushing and shoving he grew into a nasty person. Brendon wears a dirty old sports jacket and has greasy black hair that he never washes. He smokes pot after school with his pals who are equally gross and shaggy. Brendon has a pimply face, over-powering eyelashes, and thick pink lips that curl up into a yellow-toothed smile. His eyes dart around, only still when he’s stoned or when he’s spied someone to hurt. His dad left him with bruises and he feels it’s an obligation to pass along the favor. His eyes would rest on me, and it was like doomsday.


Lucy’s favorite lipgloss is Pick-Me-Up Peach while I like the root beer flavored chap stick on my lips. We both like Vibrant Violet nail polish for our toes and Ruby Red for our hands. Lucy wears two eyeshadows, starting with Powder Blue in one corner and blending it into Midnight Blue. I don’t use eyeshadow. Lucy will top off her eyes with Midnight Black Mascara and Black eyeliner. Lucy’s eyes would shine out Glory Green from the kaleidoscope of her face.


When I was younger, I was friends with a girl named Tia. Tia had long golden brown hair and was shy and quiet. She’d share her peanut butter snack and I’d share my cookies. In fourth grade, we were inseparable.
At my first sleepover at Tia’s place, she had invited three other girls besides me. After watching some forgetful movie and eating two bags of popcorn, Tia’s dad entered and sat near her. I curled up in my extra-large t-shirt and watched Tia intensely-she had an announcement.
Tia told us that when she was a little girl, her Uncle abused her and she just wanted us-her closest friends, to know. In fourth grade I didn’t understand what this meant, but Tia started crying and that made me and the other girls start to cry. I was confused, why would anyone want to tell someone else about that sort of thing? We all huddled around Tia and each other, creating a mass of My Little Pony Pajamas, pigtails, Tweety Bird slippers, and young girl tears.
Tia’s father stood off to the side, iching his elbow, with a sad, desperate expression on his face as he watched this cluster of clinging, grasping, sobbing, children.


Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Tuesday, April 1, 2008


I'm trying to make these posts daily but I didnt have a chance to doodle today! I wrote instead. So I will post something tomorrow. In the mean time, this note makes me happy.