Tag Archives: paffooney

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The Girl on Skates

The Girl on Skates

Honestly, I only saw her from afar at the Wright County Fair in the Summer of 1977. She was perfect. She could skate backwards as well as I could skate forwards. She dipsy-doodled all around the rink, never noticing me watching with my mouth open. Beautiful auburn hair and a smile that could melt butter better than the August Iowa weather… I wasn’t sure how old she was, the main reason I never tried to talk to her. I was already a college sophomore at the age of twenty. I suspected she was a mere high school girl, not yet eighteen. All I felt safe doing was looking and longing, wishing only to adore and draw near. This Paffooney of checkerboard and stripes is not actually her. It is inspired by my niece and some actress from the musical Annie. But it makes me remember. A sweet, sad summer crush that never went anywhere but into a sappy old Paffooney post. Forgive me. I am old. And just maybe I will soon be a dirty, evil old man.

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May 3, 2014 · 12:34 am
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Magic Carpet Rides

Magic Carpet Rides

There is a thrill to be had from flying. Spread your arms and rise up on high. The magic carpet lifts us up into the air, and we ride towards destiny. My friend, he is a pyromancer. He can make fire from the air and cast it forward to light up the sky. In the village they see us coming and tremble from dread. but we are not evil, in spite of our blackness. We come to bring light and fire to the people who have survived the darkness of the cold, cold night. So what does it all mean? Meaning is like fire. It warms us when it doesn’t burn us. What is it all for? Pursuing purpose is like flying, winging toward the next sunrise.

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May 2, 2014 · 1:46 am
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The Fallen Ace

The Fallen Ace

I have not been a very good teacher of late. I have been ill, having difficulty breathing and aching in a number of ways. I would stay home, but I lose a full day’s pay for every sick day I must use now. I could end up owing the school money at the end of the month if I miss too much. So, I have posted a Paffooney that portrays in oil paint the proper attitude. As the Baron is dropping to his death (WWI pilots did not have parachutes) he gives the old thumbs up. I know I am going out just like that. The end is coming, but I fear it not. Achtung! It has been a good flight up to now.

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May 1, 2014 · 12:42 am
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I am Mickey

I am Mickey

So, here’s a picture of Michael Mouse surrounded by friends and admirers of all sorts. I can’t help the surrealism any more than Salvador Dali could, but the point here is that I, like Mr. Mouse, am a Mickey. I am filled with Mickey-ness. I am a part of all of Mickey-dom… but never Mickey-dumb! “Sweet Mickey, warm Mickey, little ball of yucks… Cool Mickey, wry Mickey, nyuk, nyuk, nyuk.”

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April 30, 2014 · 1:37 am
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A New Book

A New Book

Today I bought a new book. It is called The Art of Joe Kubert, edited by Bill Schelly. I got it at Halfprice Books for a mere six dollars and ninety-nine cents. It is filled with treasure. From the 1950’s to the present day, Kubert has been an artist behind Hawkman, Tarzan, and Sargent Rock. He is fantasy and surrealism at its graphic best. I plan on pouring over it all summer long.

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April 26, 2014 · 10:16 pm
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Life is as Hard as Bowling with a Moose (A Poem)

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!

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April 26, 2014 · 3:12 am
April 25, 2014 · 12:56 am

Making Fan Art

My homage to “the Ghost Who Walks” was carefully chosen.  I scanned my Phantom comics from Charleton looking for the right pose.  I found an image of him punching toward the viewer.  I thought, “Why don’t I put that view on horseback and have him riding toward me and punching.”  Why did I think that?  Who knows?  As an artist, I’m kinda erratic and crazy that way.  I guess that’s why I claim to be a surrealist.  I do believe all comic book artists have to be surrealists to do their job.  That’s true whether they do super heroes, ducks who hoard money in vaults and wear spats, pigs who wear a coat and a tie but no pants, or alien monsters hungry for the nearly naked flesh of Dale Arden.  Uh… maybe I’m revealing way too much about my thought processes here…  So here’s step one, the pen and ink.

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Then I had to give it some colored pencil treatments.  Black and white with crosshatching is cool, but it is also like bare bones, without life and energy.  So I used the powers I have over cheap Roseart pencils and madly scribbled in colors carefully balanced to show just how truly chaotic my perceptions of action and adventure really are.

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Now, I know the Phantom’s horse is either black or pure white, depending on which version or generation of the Ghost Who Walks is being depicted, but I did a yellow horse.  I know… I know…  I did pansy colors when I really should’ve gone fire red or all bloody crimson.  I’m completely violating continuity.  But I never completely do what I intend to do.  If I don’t screw it up at least a little bit, then it really isn’t me.  Besides, what else is there to yell at myself about and twist words around to make it sound like I’m being all comedically gifted and funny?

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Fan Art

Fan Art

One of my all-time favorite comic book characters has always been Captain America as a member of the Avengers. Just like so many other artists hooked on comic books, I have drawn my heroes numerous times. Here is a sample. This is mostly a pen and ink drawing, colored with colored pencils.

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April 24, 2014 · 12:57 am
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The Elf with the Bow

The Elf with the Bow

Sometimes I just get all Middle Earthy!

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April 23, 2014 · 1:04 am
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The Dust Man

The Dust Man

The Dust Man is unique because he creates worlds from chalk dust. He draws pictures on the chalk board in colored chalks, sometimes massive full-board murals. He is a natural at telling stories, whether they are pieces of great literature read aloud (he used to do Rikki Tikki Tavi by Rudyard Kipling, A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, Joey Pigza Loses Control by Jack Gantos, and The Reptile Room by Lemony Snicket), or they were incidental slice-of-life stories about his own experiences, or even re-tellings of historical figures and the events in their lives (one student used to sum up all of these stories by saying “first you tell us what wonderful things he or she did, then you tell us how that person died a horrible or painful death”… and I often found humor in that). The Dust Man was a natural teacher of boys, able to connect their silly and hormonal little lives to a great wide world of significant experiences. He could teach girls too, even though he found them much harder to understand. But now, in 2014, he will lay the chalk down for a final time. The dust will race across the blackboard no more. The stories will go from oral to written form. And something will be, regrettably, forever lost. (And, yes, pathos is humor too, a fond but bittersweet memory… so I did not miss-tag this post!)

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April 22, 2014 · 12:22 am