I'm not sure I've posted about it in the context of Salome yet, but I'm sure I've admitted this before: I have difficulty with suspension of disbelief in theatrical settings. I can respect, for example, all of the effort that goes into a well-choreographed stage fight or intimate moment, and I've found it interesting to participate in those sorts of scenes. To the extent that audiences believe them, I can even sort of grasp the appeal and impact of those sorts of scenes. But for me... they just don't do anything?

And I understand that that's a me thing. I really do. (I also find car chases in movies boring AF, and I have fallen asleep on many an action movie final fight between two very similar CGI things chaotically slugging it out.) But it definitely feels not great to be unable to appreciate such deliberately integral elements to so much media? And depending upon the emphasis people place on those elements and how much their appeal derives from their relatability -- particularly when it comes to intimate connections between characters -- it feels not good to be the sort of person who can't appreciate those things. (more...)

So. I have no idea why I'm being vague about any of this -- dramatic effect? -- but here we go. Some years ago, I was working on a production where the director wanted to set one scene at an outdoor campfire. I could actually appreciate the aesthetic -- a campfire is a perfect setting for spookiness, and this scene did in fact contain spookiness -- but nevertheless early on one of us asked why, given the context, the scene should take place at a campfire. The director's response -- which I rather took to heart -- was effectively, "Shrug. I think it's cool." Noted.

And yet: later, when blocking another dramatic scene, I suggested two assailants entering from opposite entrances in order to converge on their quarry in dramatic fashion, I was effectively told, in kinda dismissive fashion, "That's stupid. Why would they be coming from two different places? On that side is <specific place>; on that side is <other specific place>." Noted.

So the production got reviewed, and reviews explicitly called out the confusing choice of setting that prior scene at a campfire, and there was much commentary about how the review was unfair because it included nitpicks like that. And yet I personally didn't think it was unfair, because we clearly *did* care about things like that throughout. Even if the audience couldn't entirely follow it (I never quite worked it out myself), entrances and exits were blocked according to a floor/nation plan. There were references to a greater world and world-building (that arguably didn't map 1:1 to the text, but it was there). There was, to my mind, clearly enough intention put into the setting to justify criticism where one thought it fell short. (more...)

I kinda want to draw fetish art for people.

Like, seriously (but not seriously). I have this ridiculous dream of having a booth at a comic convention where I ONLY draw fetish art commissions for people. You want a drawing of Spider-Man snapping a photo of himself while dangling upside down? Fine, but you'd better pretend that shit turns you on.

That said, I wouldn't want the pictures to actually be erotic -- I'd want to do them in my signature (lazy) style and knock them off very quickly. I don't really want to produce great art or make gobs of money (if I broke even for the table I'd be delighted); I just want to hear people's sick sick desires and delight in giving them goofy six-minute Sharpie marker drawings. You like dickgirls? Here's a stick figure with hair and eyelashes and pouty lips. And a dick. I'd simply smile, but the voices in my head would laugh and laugh and LAUGH.

Have I told you about my desire to get a cardboard sign and sell $1 haiku on street corners? If my living sitch ever goes south, I'm totally going to be the Haiku Hobo.

the Haiku Hobo
writes haiku, obviously!
And he's homeless. Duh.

...Yep.

So this artist I know posted a thing about feeling inadequate when she browses DeviantArt -- in part because other artists (some of whom are younger than she is) are so awesome (presumably more awesome than she feels she is, otherwise she wouldn't feel bad about it). I responded with some hokey-sounding pretentious (and totally sincere) bullshit that probably makes me seem like the old man that I am.

I almost never truly feel inadequate when it comes to artistic talent! I think it stems from an understanding of personal style: there are definitely people more skilled at certain techniques than I am, but I've never seen anyone who draws (or writes, as is more often the case) quite like I do. So I certainly look forward to improving my own skills, and I'm eager to learn from other people, but I don't compare myself to other people because they're not me. No matter how good those other people are, they'll never be me.

Like I said, hokey-sounding pretentious bullshit -- but I really do never feel inferior when I browse the work of others. On DeviantArt, that's largely because I feel that drawing isn't my artistic strength. That's not to say that I think I'm completely without skill, and I often feel that much more skilled artists are less suited to certain artistic undertakings than I am (I feel like I do a really good job of drawing specific people, even though I don't even draw people with noses and/or ears). But even when it comes to writing, I'm never intimidated or humbled when I read other people's stuff. (more...)

Had Turtles Forever featured this unholy alliance, I think the outcome would have been very different! I need to retake this picture with Metal Mutants Shredder, though... that little purple fiend definitely deserves to be included in the Shredder mashup.