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Author Topic: Another senseless self-promotion thread  (Read 5077 times)
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Funeral Laugh
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« Reply #90 on: September 04, 2010, 04:04:25 AM »

No sleep and all something, make Kevin something something.
I'm making it an effort to make one sketch a day, in between two paintings, to get my hand used to the stroking... uhhh... with a pencil.  I'm just throwing this up because I'm bored and thought some folks may get some amusement out of it.  Each sketch between 15-45 min.
« Last Edit: September 04, 2010, 04:06:53 AM by Funeral Laugh » Logged

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« Reply #91 on: September 04, 2010, 05:02:27 AM »

You're very talented. Nice work.
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« Reply #92 on: September 04, 2010, 06:57:50 AM »

Those look great. I'm in love with the 3rd one on the low right.
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« Reply #93 on: September 04, 2010, 09:06:20 AM »

nice stuff. glad you're using a little discipline. :whipped:
you gots the talent. im loving the first 2 & the last one, bottom left.
(my left, monkey!)

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« Reply #94 on: September 04, 2010, 01:44:36 PM »

Hardcore.
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« Reply #95 on: September 04, 2010, 04:04:29 PM »

Good stuff man.
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« Reply #96 on: September 05, 2010, 04:34:50 PM »

Thanks.  :)

I was up last night/this morning doing my take on Pinhead, but it came out horrible.  Too small, so no detail is seen or could be implied.  Pissed me off.  I would like to do a larger one and have it a fully complete drawing in the distant future.  Later today, I'll do a take on Leatherface.
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« Reply #97 on: September 06, 2010, 02:29:16 AM »

My take on Pinhead and Leatherface.  Pinhead's sketch is too small.  I attempted to place each spike in coordinates to acupuncture points and give him a more rotted appearance.

Leatherface... I tried to make "special".  Hard to do when you're stitching other peoples skin onto his face.
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« Reply #98 on: September 15, 2010, 08:44:30 PM »

I love that Pinhead, and that interpretation of Leatherface is unique. Good work, man.
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« Reply #99 on: September 18, 2010, 09:00:16 PM »

Strange occurrence with the multi-zombie sketch.  I went to Pizza Hut this evening, and of course, I took my pad with me.  I had to have something to pass my time since they no longer have those kid puzzles and coloring things on the back of the mats (come to think of it, they had no mats).  So, for 15 minutes, I came up with the images that you see (18sept10.1).  And the attention that came with it as I sat there, in my typical "blind world apocalyptic" trance... jeesh.  I didn't realize how many weirdos such as myself existed in this small town.  The tattooed manager snuck out from the kitchen after a waitress told him what I was drawing, standing there beside me with a shit-eating grin and bugged-out eyes.  A customer that came in, all pierced and shit, was creaming in her summer dress and shit-kickers.  "That's so detailed... wow.. blah blah... my brother is a tattoo artist, but to no degree can he do that... blah blah."  I felt a bet embarrassed... a bet shocked... a little confused.  These were just sketches.  Quick doodles to get back to how I was when I was younger.  In no way are they "detailed", nor shit-my-drawers awesome.  Butterflies shed their cocoon within my gut.  Yet... it got me to thinking.  If I can shock people with scribbles, what can I do with an actual complete piece?

The full page piece of shit sketch was done last week.
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« Reply #100 on: September 19, 2010, 12:30:30 PM »

Gol-lee lookit all o them pencil scribbles... I see a face! :tard:

Just kidding. Great work as always, droog.
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« Reply #101 on: September 19, 2010, 02:12:50 PM »

Gol-lee lookit all o them pencil scribbles... I see a face! :tard:

 lol
yep.  That's pretty much how it was.  They may have been pierced, tatted, and dark.... but this is still the South.
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« Reply #102 on: September 19, 2010, 07:53:59 PM »

Strange occurrence with the multi-zombie sketch.  I went to Pizza Hut this evening, and of course, I took my pad with me.  I had to have something to pass my time since they no longer have those kid puzzles and coloring things on the back of the mats (come to think of it, they had no mats).  So, for 15 minutes, I came up with the images that you see (18sept10.1).  And the attention that came with it as I sat there, in my typical "blind world apocalyptic" trance... jeesh.  I didn't realize how many weirdos such as myself existed in this small town.  The tattooed manager snuck out from the kitchen after a waitress told him what I was drawing, standing there beside me with a shit-eating grin and bugged-out eyes.  A customer that came in, all pierced and shit, was creaming in her summer dress and shit-kickers.  "That's so detailed... wow.. blah blah... my brother is a tattoo artist, but to no degree can he do that... blah blah."  I felt a bet embarrassed... a bet shocked... a little confused.  These were just sketches.  Quick doodles to get back to how I was when I was younger.  In no way are they "detailed", nor shit-my-drawers awesome.  Butterflies shed their cocoon within my gut.  Yet... it got me to thinking.  If I can shock people with scribbles, what can I do with an actual complete piece?

The full page piece of shit sketch was done last week.

During school, all I did was doodle. From morning, to late afternoon (as my grades can attest to). Always reserved, the shell was up, just quietly drawing. People walking by would always try to sneak a peek, some were even so bold to ask to see, but they were always met with my huddling my current creation, and muttering "no". I could not fucking stand how intrusive they were.
Art class was the best and the worst. All sorts of lovely instruments at my disposal. But the teacher liked my stuff so much that she would display it prominently in class. I thought we had this unspoken relationship that I am gracing her with my faded talents, and only her. Not for the drooling masses to gawk at, condemn, and thus bringing a lot of unneeded attention upon myself. Hell, some of it was even stolen--for God knows what reason.
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« Reply #103 on: September 19, 2010, 08:40:21 PM »

During school, all I did was doodle. From morning, to late afternoon (as my grades can attest to). Always reserved, the shell was up, just quietly drawing. People walking by would always try to sneak a peek, some were even so bold to ask to see, but they were always met with my huddling my current creation, and muttering "no". I could not fucking stand how intrusive they were.
Art class was the best and the worst. All sorts of lovely instruments at my disposal. But the teacher liked my stuff so much that she would display it prominently in class. I thought we had this unspoken relationship that I am gracing her with my faded talents, and only her. Not for the drooling masses to gawk at, condemn, and thus bringing a lot of unneeded attention upon myself. Hell, some of it was even stolen--for God knows what reason.

Gawd, you sound like me.

Specifically in my senior year, my teacher wanted me to be some type of apprentice, but unlike the others he had groveling for his attention.  No.  He allowed me to do anything I wished, but would scorn me if I didn't change my subject matter.  At the same time, he would display my stuff in the corridors of the school, the commons, lunch area, display case... it was embarrassing.  But... he knew what he was doing.  He seen the reaction my shit had gotten from everyone.  Many believed I was promoting violence, was Satanic, mentally ill (duhhhhh), more of an outcast than the outcast, and that I should be barred from having my work put up.  Even the guidance counselor  suggested to have my stuff taken down because it was stirring a response disruptive in their educational foundation.  And, he never did.  He fought on keeping them up, doing his hippie thing of "freedom of expression", and told me to continue doing what I wanted (but still scorned me to do something nice for a change?  lol ).

I got no applause when my name was announce during the Scholastics Awards, him emphasizing that I was the only student in his *place generational number here* years of teaching art, that he has never seen anyone put together a 4 year portfolio in a matter of a few months.  He hinted to the controversy regarding what I had done, the misunderstanding of how troubled youths are communicating with society but only being shunned... on and on... then announced my name.  Talk about wanting to puke when I got up there to grab my reward... it was so quiet except a light cough here and the squeaking of an auditorium chair.

Fuck 'em.  Fuck 'em and that red-head fuck-cunt Jaime who got the 5K scholarship for his fucking rip-off of Andy Warhol's Campbell's Soup.
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« Reply #104 on: April 01, 2011, 02:12:23 AM »

This is/was for a contest of sorts that I overdone myself on.  We were only supposed to translate the video, but I decided to caption it.  Whilst others typed a max of 7 sentences, I did a full translation.  Bored, educational, fun. :)

<a href="http://www.youtube.com/v/KxxGVQvnZYU&rel=1" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/v/KxxGVQvnZYU&rel=1</a>
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