His kingdom is lush, fertile, and pulsing with spectacular forms of new and evolving species. The climate is pleasantly mild, the breeze punctuated with earthly perfumes. Each day brings stunning new splendor, glittering unexpected magic... and yet...The Club King never takes notice. He's far too lost inside his head. Far too sucked into the self-absorbed black hole of ponderous worry, crushing doubt and rotting fear to see the astonishing gifts blossoming before him. Silly, silly Club King - will he ever awaken? Medium: Graphite on old pulpy paper, digital paint.
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You just get better and better!
Posted by: Knox Bronson | December 02, 2009 at 04:17 PM
I bet it's because no one nominated him for a Nobel Peace Prize yet.
Posted by: Vern | December 03, 2009 at 07:09 AM
Something about seeing his skinny legs in those boots reminded me of Lindsay Lohan. Needless to say, the Club King looks infinitely healthier.
Posted by: Bionic Squirrel | December 10, 2009 at 06:58 PM
He rubbed his arms together; the exoskeletal limbs moaned deeply, like the finely-sculpted wood of a cello. The King loved the deep, cavernous sound generated by his own world of unhappiness, so much so that the Song of the Muse--crooned in infinite glistening harmonies by the Most Divine Creature in the Wood--fell unnoticed.
Then one day, he looked up...
Posted by: ToQuadrangledCornersAndWellBeyond | December 10, 2009 at 09:57 PM
This is great. It is wonderful to see how your work has evolved over the years!
Posted by: Leah | December 10, 2009 at 11:23 PM