So I'm walking down Van Ness in San Francisco and spot this ancient looking piece of "trash" on the sidewalk. My heart pounded as I reached to pick it up only to find that I'd just scooped up a Victorian era steroview card that had at one time titillated our great great grandparents from coin operated 3-D viewing machines back in the day. I can't figure out what's going on in this scene - a man wearing black socks (sexxxaay) and pajamas appears to be humping a matronly woman as she holds a basin up to a oddly positioned water spigot in the wall. The caption says "Ring three times for hot water - look out Mandy, you might get wet!"
This is what I imagined the person who created the flyer below might look like. A nomadic "shepard", his small flock of sheep and a couple of Tibetan yaks were looking for a place to camp for the summer and if I didn't live in a glass and steel high rise, I would've happily invited them to camp on my front lawn for the summer. Screw what the neighbors think, I need yaks grazing in my front yard as soon as possible. Medium: graphite and digital wool on moleskine.
Poster found on bulletin board near organic coffee shop in Mendocino, CA. I really wanted to snag it for my collection, but didn't want to ruin the sheep herder's chance to find a home for the summer. Mendocino is an interesting place - you'd think it was Amsterdam from the way the scruffy locals light up weed in the streets.
This is Nick, or at least this is what I envision Nick might look like after reading his plea (see below) for protection from ruthless commie spies who slowly murder him for sixteen hours a day, every second for almost 35 months by way of implanted radio transmitters and ultrasound gun. I blacked out the last names of the ruthless commie criminals before posting because the last thing I need are threats of radio transmitter implants from spies named Sergey. Medium: pen sketch in moleskine, digital color.
Mr. Seymour became very angry after the Audi-driving "damn yuppie" hogged two parking spots for his "fancy damn car". Mr. Seymour drove his rattling and rusted old Chrysler around the block to find a space, but couldn't stop fuming over the arrogance of the Audi driver. He reached down to the trash pile on the floor of his car and grabbed an empty envelope, yanked a pen from behind his ear and shaking with anger, wrote a scolding note. He hopped out of his car and placed the note on the windshield of the Audi and thought to himself, "That ought to teach that damn fool not to spoil a parking place!!" Medium: colored pencil in moleskine, digital color.
Found on Fillmore Street in San Francisco, November 2007.