Tag Archives: artwork

Colored Pencil Magic

I left high school determined to become a wizard.  I know how foolish that sounds.  The beginning of wisdom is learning how big a fool I naturally am.  So, having learned that I am a little fool (after years of humbling experience I know better than to call myself big), I had to pursue arcane knowledge and magic spells to become a wizard.  I began to experiment with all kinds of ideas and all sorts of media.  But it was the humble colored pencil where I discovered the most arcane power.

Let me tell you about how I cast a recent magic spell.

As with any wizard work, it begins with a book, a tome of significance discovered in the course of a book-finding quest.  It was a book that I found in a Goodwill store, an antique book that describes in children’s book form how an archeologist uncovered the life and ultimate demise of a place in the distant past called Pueblo Bonito.

I learned about the place and the people, especially the children because, after all, that’s who the book was written for.  So, the next step was to pull together the puzzle pieces I needed for a little bit of Paffooney magic.  Paffooney, you may recall, is a magical made-up nonsense word useful for artistic incantations.  I consulted a book that I myself created, a scrapbook of poems, snippets, and visual ideas.  I call it Rage after the Dylan Thomas poem about raging against the dying of the light.  It is full of scraps and pictures that I can use as models.

I sketched out the plan in light pencil, too light to really pick up in the photo.  When I begin the detail work, I take it area by area, starting with the most important piece, the primary figure’s face.

As I moved along, I had to color in the primary figure first trying to carefully create a light-source pattern mostly consistent with my model.  It is coming from near-noonday sun shining down into the Pueblo from the top right of the frame.

I discovered when it was too late that I missed the proper proportion on the right arm.  I gave the poor girl a Popeye arm.  But she will just have to live with the deformity.  At least I didn’t goof as badly as Victor Frankenstein did on his creation.

The figure needed to be completed first since the the light patterns in the background would have to be keyed to it in a way that keeps those elements pushed back into the depths of the picture.

The background will contain three more figures, the two child figures will be more obscured than the main figure and far less detailed.  The adult figure will be a mere shadow in the darkness of the Pueblo walls.  A touch of blue sky will finish it all and give it primary completeness (red, yellow, and blue in a picture make it feel complete because these are the primary colors of paint).

I am left with the completed spell, a Paffooney I call “Pueblo Bonito”.  I signed my name backwards, dated it, and now it is time to look at the finished spell and let its gentle magic work on my soul.

Pueblo Bonitoalmost donePrimary doneprogressDSCN4990inspirationstart

 

 

 

1 Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

The Centaur

I will post more words another day.  Today, let this picture be worth a thousand words.

Centaur1

Leave a comment

June 16, 2014 · 9:50 pm

My Children’s Art

My own three kids have taken up the artist’s pScan0011encil tracks.  It is probably true that no one ever had a bad habit that didn’t get passed on to their children.  Drawing too much is my back-clinging monkey.  I ignore other things I am supposed to do, have to do, even will die if I don’t do in order to keep on drawing.  My two arthritic claw hands have been worked into pretzel knots by the incessant urge to draw.  But not everything they got from me in the drawing habit is totally bad.

The Princess actually uses colored pencil to do her art.

Oldest son Dorin (his name in my fiction) has caught the dungeon and dragony bug from me and likes to conjure imaginary monsters.

I was not able to secure a Henry picture for this post, but he does it too.  He has won school art class awards for his work and one of his pieces still hangs in his former middle school.

So, there you have it.  I have passed on the gene that causes this craziness.  And there is no cure but to draw endlessly.

Scan0009

Scan0010

Leave a comment

June 15, 2014 · 3:59 pm

Being A Teacher

I now only have four days left in my teaching career.  I am swiftly reaching the end.  I need to savor just a little bit.  I will soon be retired and a classroom will never be the place where I do my best work again.  I can reach and teach still, but my health holds me back.  I can barely present for ten minutes any more.  I end up gasping for breath and needing to sit.  I have never been a teacher who sits behind the desk.  I am always stalking the entire classroom and working over the shoulder of the kid with the question.  Okay, I can’t do the work any more… so it is the right thing to retire and let others in better shape take over.  I’m dreading the end, but soon I will have to embrace it whole.Mythos

6 Comments

June 3, 2014 · 12:54 am

Post No Ads Here! No, really! This is NOT an Advertisement… this is ART.

googlepaffooney 2I’m trying to self promote without really appearing to self promote. Honestly, they tell me that blogging to promote my books is something you should just do and have fun doing. So that’s what I’m doing. Just to be funny I am making fun of myself for advertising my self. Isn’t that a gas? Isn’t it?

2 Comments

May 31, 2014 · 10:46 pm

Yes, I Throw a Moose or Two

I thought that this silly poem needed to be re-posted because school is ending.  The need for silliness is absolutely imperative.  I also need to throw a few mooses… er… moosei… er… meese?  How do you pluralize the word moose?

Image

Life is as Hard as Bowling with a Moose (A Poem)

Life is like Moose Bowling,
Because…
In order to knock over all the pins,
And win…
You have to learn HOW TO THROW A MOOSE!

 

As the days count down, I have had to exercise my moose-throwing muscles more and more.  Today I have five days left in my teaching career.  So many precious kids I have to give up and never see again…  So many teachers will tell you that every year the kids are getting worse and worse, and their attitudes are turning more sour, disrespectful, and violent.  But those teachers don’t know the secret.  You have to throw a moose or two at the problem.  Real discipline is hard work.  Harder than demanding that kids sit in rows and be silent… heads down and pens scratching away.  You have to actually talk to kids and learn who they are… what they feel is important… what their problems are, and what they want you to do about them.   You have to be honest, give them a hook or two to draw them into the whole learning thing.  You have to actually care. 

 

So, I do.  I care.  And I let them talk.  It’s a moose that has to be tossed.

 

The comment was made this morning that you have to keep them working right up until the end of the year.  Doing no formal lessons in class is actually a lot harder and more risky than continuing to plod through the textbook.  But in five more days there are no more classes, no more books, no more teachers’ dirty looks… school’s out forever.   I haven’t done any lessons since two weeks ago.  Grades are in the gradebook.  I have been showing kids my favorite movies.  Especially movies from the eighties.  (Truthfully, I have not been well enough to actually teach.  My body aches and I can’t breathe very well)  I have been talking to kids about those movies… what they think about them, and what they think about life in general.  Kids are telling me they are worried about my poor health.  They say they are interested in my books and my writing, even though they don’t actually read just for pleasure and will never buy what I write… or even look at this blog.  They tell me about their troubles, their hopes and dreams, their most significant relationships, and they tell me that they will miss me next year.  Five days… will I make it through without breaking into tears?  No, I won’t.  I may not even try.  That’s one moose too heavy to throw.

 

But I have no regrets.  I have touched more than two thousand five hundred lives (a pretty close estimate… I don’t have a good enough memory to actually count.)  They have touched my life in return.  No other thing I could have done with my life would ever mean as much.  Doctors save lives, but teachers shape real people.  So what does it all mean?  I mean, really?  It means I have thrown a lot of mooses… er… moosei… er… well, you know what I mean.  And if my arms are growing weary, then it is for a very good reason.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Snow Babies Explained

Snow Babies Explained

I hope to soon be able to publish my newest novel, Snow Babies, with PDMI Publishing,
In that book, I tell the story of a blizzard descending on a small town with the intent to kill. Within the storm are a group of snow spirits who come to collect the frozen dead. They take the form of naked children, completely white. They collect the souls of people who die in the blizzard, and those frozen casualties become snow babies themselves. They operate somewhat like banshees in that, when someone sees one, it means that someone is going to die, or at least have a near-death experience. Snow Babies are not malevolent… not evil… but they don’t spare the good either. So the key question in the story… Who will die? And more importantly… who will live?

Leave a comment

May 30, 2014 · 1:42 am

The Red Haired Girl Says Goodbye

The Red Haired Girl Says Goodbye

Katherine was in my Reading Class for two of the last three years. She was never a hard worker, but always really well behaved and generally a joy to be around. Today, she saw me in the hallway, doing my before-class get-to-class-and-hurry-up duties.
“I heard you are not going to teach any more after this year,” she said.
“Yes,” I said, “After thirty years, I have had all the teaching I need.”
Her brown eyes grew big and sad like a puppy’s. “We’re gonna miss you.”
“We really are,” said Barbra, one of her two friends.
“I need to give you a hug,” she said.
I hugged her gingerly, always conscious of the dangers of touching a student. But there was no hint of the inappropriate kind of love. Only a student saying goodbye to a teacher who meant a little bit more to her than other teachers. And it touched my heart. I figure I have touched the lives of more than two thousand five hundred. That’s two thousand five hundred at least that have taken a little bit of my life and touched me. And this one said, “I’ll come to your classroom and visit you before the year is over.” I’m going to miss her. I’m going to miss her times 2,500.

2 Comments

May 28, 2014 · 1:08 am

Pictures on the Door

Pictures on the Door

In order to make postable Paffooneys, I had to find a way to turn drawings into digital photos without buying a larger and more expensive scanner. My creative solution to the problem has been to tack the drawings up to my white bedroom door next to the lamp and photograph them with a digital camera. The only problem, how to get rid of glare off slick colored pencil surfaces and still have enough light to get a photo with good strong color. I keep fiddling with camera settings, and some of the more atrocious failed experiments have debuted here on this blog. Since it is supposed to be humor, I hope you find my failures laughable rather than nauseating, but rest assured, Pepto-Bismol works.

Leave a comment

May 26, 2014 · 9:18 pm

Dungeons and Dragons (Revisited)

Since I have been writing a lot about old D & D lately, I decided to repost this essay about playing Dungeons and Dragons.  It is reworked slightly to help mesh with recent posts.  Of course the names of students have been changed to protect the innocent.  I don’t expose real people in my blogging.  I tend to fictionalize everything.  After all, no one should have to suffer the damage to their reputations that Mickian goofishness can cause.

Back in 1982 I first started dungeon mastering for my younger brother and two sisters.  We bought a family set with both the red book and blue book.  It was the beginning of a lifelong love of storytelling games.  You can’t give fanboy dynamite to an Ubernerd and not expect some kind of big old explosion.

Image

The thing that caught me so completely was the way that you could share the development of the characters and story, everybody at the table adding their two cents until you had a whole lot more than six cents… More like priceless.  And you never knew for sure how it would turn out, no matter how much you planned the plot and plotted the plan.  Events could turn out entirely opposite to what they should have, and inspiration on the spot could alter the essential course of a campaign.

In the beginning it was all about wizards.  The original game featured power that left wizards weak and vulnerable in the beginner levels, but fearsome with fire-balling ferocity after only a few levels of experience.  My brother’s wizard, LeRoy became powerful enough to make himself the king of all of Balindale and the Southern Kingdom .  When the dungeon master raised up armies of undead and ogres and undead ogres to bedevil old LeRoy, the bearded Lord of Balindale could simply summon meteors from the sky and burn them to the ground.  If I presented him with rival wizards who had armies and kingdoms of their own, he pulled a fast one and used his diplomatic dipsy-doo to make them into allies… even the evil ones.  He convinced them to sign treaties with him and eventually to accept him as their sovereign lord.  Thus the Wizard Ganser from mighty Gansdorf was tamed and turned.  When the evil Black Wizard refused to cooperate, Ganser and his army helped to invade and destroy the stronghold of Fort Doom.

Image

So stories came to be dominated by wizards and wizard personalities.  And then I began recruiting former students to play the game.  The personalities changed.  Goofy Gomez chose to be the wizard, the typical classroom clown who could never do anything straight.  Fernie the Flunkie, a particularly destructive personality, also took up the way of magic with Asduel the Sorcerer.   So in some games, Asdok the Bumbling made jokes and got his fellow adventurers into situations where only the last minute appearance of a kindly, all-powerful Titan could keep them from being roasted in a pot with carrots and potatoes.  In other games, Asduel the Merciless burned cities and castles, made orphans into servants and slaves, and generally frowned quite a lot when the dungeon master  suggested that some Non-player characters needed to be spared or the over-all adventure would be lost for all players.

Image

So, because of the power of wizards, we all learned that stories could be easily unbalanced and abused by the personalities in them.  We learned how important it was to learn to work together.  When Sir Hogan, the Knight of Tol Arriseah, and Sin Gard, the fighter of the many magic swords got sick of old Asduel, they let the bullywugs and locathah of Eary Marsh first take him prisoner, and then roast and eat him with carrots and potatoes.   And when Asdok the Bumbling set fire to the base of the tower in which he was trying to wring the treasure from the top, trapping his little thief friend, Artran the Halfling up there with him in the body of the ugly girl he had turned him into with a polymorph spell, they allowed him to take a ride in the tower-turned-skyrocket into another dimension entirely.

Image

Dungeons and Dragons taught us that the difference between good and evil can be learned.   We learned that hitting your problems with a sword or dropping a fireball on top of them did not always solve them.   We learned to negotiate, to feel what others feel, and how to become a different person than the one you are.  I truly believe that the most important lessons you can learn about life can be learned playing D&D.  Morality, camaraderie, and cooperation are not really taught in school, but they can be taught in D&D.

Image

And now I play Dungeons and Dragons with my own children.  How better to get to know them and mold their characters?  How else can you let them learn why you shouldn’t blow up your neighbors or slay your uncle with an axe except in an imaginary world where the ultimate oops can be fixed with a lawful-good cleric who knows a convenient raise the dead or resurrection spell?

So now I can officially post my Paffooney where Samosett the girl archer and little Prince Robin have murdered Unkel the Magical Ogre to get his chest full of treasure.  Oh, I shouldn’t forget Boffin and Bimbur the dwarves.  They are the ones that brought the group through the Wilderness of Zekk to find Old Unkel’s tower.

Image

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized