anthropomorphic anticacti. these are also postcards that i made!

anticactus.

school stuff starts tomorrow. hopefully it gets me off my ass!

Bugs Bugs Bugs. Probably not going to do much with these, but I am out of practice and need the workout. If I draw whatever I want for a little while it becomes less and less of a big deal to start more legit projects. Bugs Bugs Bugs.

Gay Ass Ghost

Found this bug on my balcony. It was like a cross between a yellow ladybird and a cockroach. I froze him. Southern fauna is blowing my mind.

Movt Soth

This blog is going to be UNABANDONED and REBIRTHED. I just moved from Las Vegas, Nevada to Knoxville, Tennessee. Since everyone I know is scattered to the winds I feel the need to mass communicate, massively. I am starting grad school next week, so more to come and more.

Probably my favorite maker. I like thinking about old time religion, and about sacrifice. The idea that a sacrifice can fail or be improper or unsuitable is really kind of intense and sad. I'll probably repaint some of these on a large scale- they work at this size, but just barely, and they aren't very imposing.

These seem to be succeeding or failing based almost entirely on their formal qualities which I'm not cool with. There needs to be something else present. Not sure, not sure.

Another maker. I like this one OK as a technical exercise. I'm still working on giving these context beyond that though. It is even more terrifying if you think of it as the underside of a shark.

Insider bonus I ate like 5 oreos before I took the reference for this one so my mouth was really filthy.

He wakes up quaking with a start but something is missing then goes to yell but something is soft where it should have clacked. His teeth are gone. They were stolen by ghosts in the night. Why? He can’t imagine. He was always pious: didn’t complain or curse the howls from the forest when the weather turned foul, didn’t dump his trash in the bottomless ditch where they lived (everyone could hear them muttering Down There) or shit in it out of spite. But his teeth were gone. The ghosts were bad, not the odd and indifferent wildlife he thought they were. They knew no consequences! They couldn’t be hurt, couldn’t be hobbled with a stone. You couldn’t tackle one and make him explain himself. They did it because they could (they didn’t even keep the teeth. They buried them. Ghosts have their own rituals) and because they wanted to hear the sound it would make if a toothless man screeched vulgarities into a bottomless hole. Who knows?