EXCEPT THAT IT'S NOT. HA! APRIL FOOL'S!

I've had a few blog posts lined up, but have been passing on them since they were kind of abrupt and silly and I've had more serious things on my mind.

Have you guys heard of Woody Allen? Of course you have. Have you read that piece Dylan Farrow published in the New York Times? The one about Woody Allen sexually abusing her as a child? And how her whole life it's kind of been brushed aside because "it's Woody! Annie Hall was so good!" I've been thinking about this, about how easily media wants to debate/disprove her claim of abuse because they love the accused . . .

Anyway, it's been on my mind because I recently found out someone I knew was sexually abused by Stanley Marsh 3. For those who don't know, I grew up in Amarillo, TX and millionaire Stanley Marsh 3 is kind of our Andy Warhol. The rest of the world sees him as this inspiring and quirky artist (best known for Cadillac Ranch) but those of us in Amarillo know him as a pedophile. It was known in our community that he targeted young guys in the punk scene and would invite them to his mansion to become fellow "artists." Plenty of allegations had been brought on him before, but he always, always, paid them off. I remember laughing about it as a kid. "Oh, that Stanley, what an awful man!"

Why I ever found it funny is beyond me. After reading the previously linked article I sat in my room, alone, feeling dark and disgusting, thinking of my friend and all he went through. Looking back at our relationship, I know the time period it happened, when everything changed between us, when he started running with Stanley's crowd, how what was possibly happening to him always lingered in the back of my mind and I never said anything. How, after moving from Texas, people would ask where I was from and when I said "Amarillo!" they said "Stanley Marsh 3!" and I would say, "Yes, the terrible pedophile," and they would dismiss it, because no no no, he's a great artist.

"Separate the art from the artist."

We're more important than art, aren't we? Human beings and our experiences, more important than art? I had a friend once tell me she wouldn't read or go see Ender's Game because Orson Scott Card belongs to a church that doesn't support marriage equality, and no matter how good a story, she couldn't support him. And I respect that. I, too, struggle with my church not supporting marriage equality, because I belong to the same church Orson Scott Card does. And even though I want change and he doesn't, at the end of the day we still belong to the same organization, and if someone decides never to read my work because of that, I'll respect that decision too.

If you ever do decide to go see Cadillac Ranch, I want you to notice the group of boys lingering to the side in lawn chairs. They're there to spray paint the cars at the end of the day, so the canvas is fresh for the new set of tourists to graffiti tomorrow. That's what they do, maintain the art for Stanley. They've been there for years, faces always changing, ages always the same. Maybe they're not there anymore, now that Stanley's had a stroke, now that the pile of paid-off allegations has gotten too high. But the fact that they were ever there, instead of some professional, middle-aged paint crew . . . if you ever do decide to go see Cadillac Ranch, I challenge you to try and separate Stanley's art from Stanley's darker activities when they're standing side by side in front of you.
 
Andy Warhol's studio was called "The Factory" because he was able to produce several works of art on an assembly line. But, after reading a biography on Warhol, I think it was called "The Factory" because it treated people as nothing more than objects to be exploited, used, and recycled. I'm wary of the artist who uses people for art, and those who insist I separate art from people. Why? The artist doesn't.

I have unwittingly fulfilled that hallway vinyl encouragement "Dance Like No One's Watching." Because in the mornings I either go for a run or participate in what I like to call Ghetto Just Dance, where I watch YouTube videos of Xbox 360 song clips from Just Dance 3 and play them through my laptop onto our TV. It's far cheaper than buying a Kinect, and I bust just as many moves and break a far cheaper sweat. And whoever uploads these videos are far better dancers than me, so I always get a high score in the end.

Also: it snowed yesterday! In Portland. This is a rare occurrence, and I don't like it. Because it's not really snow, but slushy white muck.

Also: I've been taking some time to draw more.

Also: Courtney? Really?

Simon loves wolves.

Ink on wood (longboard, heh heh) by my previous coworker, Jen.

I'm taking an online art class this semester (as though having a baby won't keep me busy enough). It's weird to be back in class mode after two years, but I'm enjoying it so far. I wasn't quite sure what to expect from this class; I was hoping for the opportunity to improve my quirky people/animal drawings but from the syllabus it seems I'll be doing line drawings and shading in still lifes (i.e. fruit arrangements) all semester. Oh, well.

To make the class more interesting, I've decided to draw predictions of what I think my classmates look like. The first week we were required to post a short 'about me' along with a photograph. I resisted the temptation to view the photos first and managed a few silly ones which I'll post below, along with some quotes:

"I have always loved to draw, especially fantastical creatures, dragons, trolls, elves, etc..."


"I worked for eight years as a fashion illustrator and art director for a company that specialized in skin-care and personal style for women . . . I then decided to become an art teacher."


"I'm a Graphic Design major, but I'm really only playing with that idea."


"My name is Talia. You may not pronounce my name right because I correct people about my name all the time."


"I'm an Australian-Texan. I'm addicted to soft things and I make strange sounds a lot. I can make the ugliest face you have ever seen. Oh and I got kicked by a kangaroo when I was little. Haha."

And here's my preliminary sketch for the shaded line drawing I did last week, which is based on a photograph of a piece of cake on a plate and accompanying cup:

If you're tired of illustration posts, I'm sorry . . . actually, I'm not, because they make me really happy. The reason you've been seeing so many recently is because I've entered Frankie's Sketchbook Showcase, where they send you some Field Notes books to draw, doodle, sketch, scribble, paste and stitch in! Those chosen will be featured in the magazine.

I most likely won't be chosen . . . not only is my body of work online pretty minimal, but I live in the U.S., which I doubt the Australian magazine will bother shipping to since I think the showcase is time sensitive. That, and it's not like my work is spectacular. But they're into quirky sketchy stuff, so what do I have to lose?

I've been experimenting with new styles lately to try and find *my* style when it comes to illustration. Some of my inspiration can be found here: Danny Roberts, Caitlin Shearer, Catherine Campbell, Chrissy Lau. I'm having the hardest time trying to master pesky hands and feet!

Matthew Lyons had a funny quote this morning on finding your style:

After adding milk to cereal I can not be distracted. Must eat cereal before it turns into soggy cereal. I know of humans who put their cereal with milk in the microwave to make it purposely soggy cereal. Everyone is good at drawing it just depends on your inspiration. Your taste is what directs the work and knowing the range of different ideas to steal and mush together so no one knows is the secret. I have to trust my taste. Cereal should not be soggy.

Seve got me some watercolors and new brushes, and I couldn't be happier.
My attempt at drawing hands based on Love, Sweet Love by Caitlin Shearer. Not very successful!


 For some reason I draw veeery tiny; this last drawing was near microscopic.

I haven't put a pen to paper in a very long time. I'm a "typist" at heart and my handwriting is no more than chicken scratch. But drawing is something I used to do everyday, years ago, so I thought I'd share some recent doodles on behalf of my resolution to draw more.
The last one is a peek at a little project I'm working on, shh . . .

p.s. NPR is hosting its sixth round of Three-Minute Fiction! At a requirement of merely 600 words, it seems silly not to enter (hint hint).

I love this print by Francesca Montanari. I originally wanted to get it for myself as a personal pat on the back for finishing the NaNoWriMo (especially since I listened to a lot of Bat For Lashes during the process), but now I think it will just be a Christmas present "from Seve." He already knows what I got him, haha. A tight budget where we're both privy to who bought what, where, and when kind of kills the surprise of gift giving for us. But maybe I'll manage to sneak in a nice anniversary gift that'll knock his socks off. Hmm . . .

Oh, and we're officially going to Florida for Christmas! Didn't think it would be possible, but my Mum and Bum-in-law have very generously secured the trip for us. Trying to think of how on earth I can ever repay them for their kindness.

Also, I was daydreaming about how funny it'd be to have a "fashion blog" dedicated to people in pajamas and sweatpants, but in really sexy poses and pretty photo shoot settings. They'd act like it's real fashion, and list where they got each item. Winnie the Pooh onesie - $15 - Walmart.

And OH YES Halloween was fantastic! Though Seve's "Proud to be an American" t-shirt drew a fine line between Garth and Joe Dirt. Luckily, Trent scrawled "Aerosmith" over it.

k TIME TO WRITE MORE bai.

Oh, hey guys! Hope you had a Happy Halloween. I've just been busy noveling and such with the NaNoWriMo. So far so good! Oh, and I did a little redesigning here on the ol' bloggy. Anyway, more blog stuffs later, time to novel again.

Well, I think ya'll know by now how much I love this wolf by Rosie Music. While procrastinating plot outlining I made this little cover for my NaNoWriMo novel. Seve thinks my title suggests an innuendo; my friend Daniel said if I wanted an innuendo I should have named it Doggy Style.

Well, I'm here to say that I hope my cover and title alike suggest a werewolf novel without silly full moons, silver bullets, or innuendos; but rather awesome Buddy Holly references and book smart wolves.

But, you know, without being all hipster-pretentious. Actually, this cover doesn't really convey my story at all, I just thought it was cute. Maybe too cute. Because there's scary stuff in the novel too, like getting your hand ripped off, accidentally eating your favorite horse, and whatnot.

Enjoy: via, via, via, and via. And yeah, those are earrings. And that video came out 2 years ago, not 25. Happy Friday!!

These are only a handful of the bajillion shots we had taken a few months ago by Tiana Godfrey. Thanks Liz & Jacob for turning us on to her!