succumbing and OPG 2014


     The fever of Summer is breaking and so is my resistance to the abuse I suffered at the hands of my half-sister, mother and father.  I’m succumbing to it all but fear not, for I am seeking help.  I have made an appointment with my doctor and I plan to ask for advice, medication and a referral to a good counselor.  It’s the waiting that’s killing me right now.  The disease howls and I am coming perilously close to doing irrevocable damage to my marriage.  I just hope the help doesn’t come too late and I hope my wife can, in time, forgive me somehow.  I really should’ve headed down this current path a good year or more earlier.

     The good news is October is so very close now and I burned a bunch of vacation to ensure that I have every single damned weekend off!  I need my rest, especially right now.  As for OPG 2014, I plan on mostly posting on the weekends with sporadic postings during the week if I have time.  I’m not going to push myself.  I can get myself into serious trouble by thinking that I’m stronger than I am.  Nonetheless, staying at least a little busy with the OPG will be good, I can use the distraction while I bide my time.

     That’s it for now.  If things come together I’ll post the first of the month, definitely by the weekend of all else fails.  See you then oxoxoxo

feather fuzzy


     I sat here and tried to get in the mood to say something about this guy but this guy is just me.  A fussy, detailed, neurotic creation that is afraid of taking a chance.  Afraid of chasing a dream that requires a wholehearted effort if it is to have any hope of a mature completion.  Assuming completion is even something that is possible with this sort of thing.  Perhaps a mature pursuit is more appropriate.  Maybe I just need more time.

     As for technique and execution, I got back into my fussy details and my beloved fuzzy feathers again.  Great stuff for burning off excess nervous energy : )  Thanks for taking a look.

bloody fuzzy and the OPG


     I won’t tell you where I’ve been artistically but the above image is fairly close to the mark.  I will tell you that I’ve officially dropped my Vincent personae.  It just wasn’t feeling right, it’s not who I am anymore.  My name is Eddie Jones and I will be you host, guide and victim as we slog our way, step by heavy step, towards the mountain of fear that is The Fuzzy Skeletonian.

     In other news, October is creeping up behind me with impure thoughts.  So grab your vasoline and get ready for Octoberween-Palooza-Ganza 2013!   Stop on by this coming month, enjoy your beverage (or beverages) of choice and don’t dress up in any of your good clothes cause it’s gonna get all nasty and crumply.  Details to follow over the weekend.

fuzzy tears and various hiccups


     Here’s my latest greatest painting project.  I call it a project because I’m not sure it’s done.  I may go back and add some more to this.  Maybe some thin-lined fiddly bits of some kind.

     Sorry for my absence of late.  Been having some personal (as well as blog) hiccups that have been disrupting me and and slowing me down in general.  I finally had a bit of an epiphany over the weekend that cleared a few things up for me and I think I’m on the mend.  Thanks for sticking with me.

thick wet lines


     It’s hard to describe how I feel.  I just finished the thick, wet lines of this piece.  Something about this painting has put me in an intense, mostly unidentifiable mood.  This is a skull so I’m guessing fear is in there.  Probably some of the standard fear of the future associated with skulls and skeletons but that’s definitely not all.  There’s something angry and brooding about this as well.  Something that drains me and outrages me at the thought of it stealing my energy.  Still, I’m fascinated by it.  I can’t stop thinking about it.  How it makes me feel.  I find myself frowning, like my whole skull and brain area is tensing up.  My head feels warm.  No, my brain feels warm.  I feel like I need to cry but I’m not sure why.  I feel violent.  I’m sick and tired of work.  I’m bored at work.  I only have one or two days a week during a normal week when I have the time and feel rested enough to pursue my artwork.  Not sure where I’m going with this.

     Last night the wife and I enjoyed a bunch of sushi and wine.  Afterwards we had desert, mixed drinks and enjoyed a very good vampire movie.  Today we went out to eat, got caught in a downpour, drove to get ice cream and soda in said downpour and came home.  After a brief scare of our air conditioner temporarily not working due to the storm, I made myself a jumbo margarita and completed another fuzzy skeletonian for October.  When we got hungry again, we nommed the hell out of a pre-made rotisserie chicken.  After dinner and coffee I came back here to my room and completed this painting.  Now I’m sitting here, listening to the Blade Runner soundtrack trying to sort out my feelings.  Maybe I’m wrestling with some sort of moody, artistic conundrum or maybe I’m just a tad hung over and disappointed that the weekend is winding to a close.  I think the painting is dry now.  Better get it scanned and start getting ready for bed.  Have a good week.

wavy brain and a depressing revelation


     Here’s my latest dry erase crap.  I refer to this with disdain and hostility because I completed this drawing and then hung the dry erase board back on the wall were I keep it.  The overtly cheery and uplifting feel of this drawing started to get to me.  Usually, I draw something in my sketchbook and don’t have to look at it right away.  When I come back to it later something has changed and I see it differently and it’s more palatable.  With Mr. Wavy Brain here I was forced to process it immediately.  That, combined with having a pretty crappy week, made for a crushing blow to my psyche yesterday.  Once photographed, I didn’t feel much remorse after I erased it.

     As for the style and content, this is classic nose bleed, a definite “back to basics” of this new style, as it is similar to the very first drawing from this style/series.  I had just cleaned my dry erase board and it was all white and shiny and I could see a blurry reflection of myself in it as I started on this.  I even had the conscious thought that this would be a self-portrait.  Once finished, I realized what a state I was in and, as days passed, it became a more and more vivid revelation.  In some ways it surprised me.  I mean, I’ve had a noticeable amount of depression in me since I was a child.  I’ve dealt with feelings of depression all my adult life so why did this particular image bother me so much?  I guess it was the immediacy of it all.  But you know, I’ve heard it said that if everything is under control you’re not going fast enough.  As I get older I start to appreciate that opinion more and more.

     Finally, to lighten my mood (and hopefully yours), I made another of my goofy animated .gifs.  While processing this in Irfanview, I hit the horizontal flip and noticed what you see to the left.  When flipped left and right, he seems to do a kind of bizarre, fuzzy fan dance of sorts!  Suddenly, this vision of exhaustion and depression turns into more of a scene of drunken, pathetic, playfulness.  Admittedly, not MUCH of an improvement but an improvement nonetheless.

     Wow, you bothered to read this far?  Good for you and thanks for taking an interest!

melancholy monk


       I guess most any artist can claim to have wrestled with depression in their life.  It would be a little naive to think I’m somehow unique for having had the experience.  I guess what I’m driving at is that depression has always been a point of interest for me.  I can remember having feelings of frustration, futility and anger as early as grade school when I would fly into angry crying fits when my mother discovered I had once again not done my homework.  Sheets and sheets of repetitive arithmetic homework assignments.  Concepts I had mastered in the classroom and didn’t need to practice at home.  It drove me crazy.

     From that beginning I was well on my way to having a lifelong dance with depression.  I was eventually tested it was determined I was “gifted”, whatever that means.  Gifted students are supposed to be frustrated with the standard curriculum and all they supposedly need is something more to challenge them and make them feel satisfied with their education and not bored out of their minds.  I didn’t want more, I wanted less.  More specifically, I wanted to be left alone, left to my own devices.  Later, this feeling became so strong I took a whole year off from high school, barely showing up half the time.  In the end, it took me five full years to graduate (and just barely) with the aid of an extra correspondence course to complete the required amount of course credits.

     The only reason I even attempted college was due to my interest in being an artist and the temporary optimism I had gained from pulling myself together enough to graduate high school.  I lasted about two semesters before my old habits started to kick in.  I quickly tired of doing assignments where I had to draw this or sculpt that.  I was learning techniques but my heart wasn’t in it.  I did have some sincere enthusiasm for the ceramics classes I took but the professor I kind of connected with soon retired.  The other professor was much more interested in his own career and didn’t give a damn about you unless you kissed his ass or were popular enough to be in his little clique of friends at the local coffee shop.  All in all, a very discouraging experience for a young man who desperately needed encouragement.

     Nowadays, the depression has simply become a part of me.  There was a time when I thought I was fighting it but now I simply keep company with it.  I use it as a shield against the unforgiving reality we all share.  Some say that I might be mentally ill and should seek help but I personally think that anger and depression are appropriate responses to a corrupt and uncompassionate society.