resplendent chaos

Take a Walk With Me - Folsom Street Fair 2009

Yesterday my pal and I headed over to the Folsom Street Fair, an annual leather culture and fetish street festival held in San Francisco.  My senses were completely overloaded and my people watching obsession just about blew a fuse. You see everything there...and I mean EVERYTHING.  Here are some of the sights I encountered...

More photos can be viewed here. Beware, some are NSFW.

God Signs and Street Protesters For Covetous Sorcerers and Devil Communists

She's enjoying the warm sunshine as she glides down the crowded sidewalk when suddenly she's jolted into harsh reality by a loud person wearing a dark pin-striped suit and holding a sleek handmade sign emblazoned with terms such as "WHORING", "FORNICATOR", and "JESUS".  Shocked, she looks directly into the man's exploding firecracker eyes and is held prisoner by the intensity of his steely gaze. Suddenly without breaking eye contact, he bellows, "Wipe that damn lipstick off your face, you filthy Jezebel!" She averts her gaze and continues on her way. The smile never leaves her face as she reaches for the compact in her purse to quickly reapply a thick coat of raging scarlet across her delicate sinful lips. Market Street, San Francisco, CA.

 

I wanted to ask him what a COVETOUS SORCERER was, but changed my mind after observing him direct his maniacal wrath toward every single soul who happened to pass him by. Besides, I was a little drunk and proud  - that would have set him off. Las Vegas, NV.

Sweet elderly Chinese man with big smile waves at passerbys while displaying signs encouraging the suicides (on behalf of God) of George Bush and Dick Cheney as he implores America to wake up. At least he was polite and asked nicely with "please". Chinatown, San Francisco, CA.

His mission in life is to stand on the same sidewalk day after day hollering unintelligible garble at passing traffic for hours on end. Apparently a local Seattle apartment complex, along with the Seattle police angered him so much that he's devoted his life to street protesting and has been at it for years. No one's really sure of the injustice the apartment complex unleashed upon him or why he considers the police to be "devil communists". He often carries a colorful handmade staff festooned with sequins and glitter. I tried to buy it off him once, but he refused to sell it. Downtown Seattle, WA.

This is my very favorite San Francisco eccentric next to The Brown Twins. Frank Chu spends his days strolling the streets and is never seen without his mysterious and intriguing sign (which changes daily).  Many of the phrases making appearances on his sign (such as VATRODRUNIAL, UTTERCEDING OPACITY,or APERTURES ULTRACOMPACTS) make no sense to anyone but Frank himself. His best known phrase is 12 GALAXIES, which has become his trademark. He loves his photo taken and was nice enough to pose for a few shots. Market Steet, San Francisco, CA.

The Unsettling Beauty of the Japanese Hair Boys

I was at the Japanese book store the other day and picked up a copy of Fineboys, a delightful how-to hair style magazine for young men. Each page features photos of stunningly gorgeous young Japanese men modeling the latest elaborate shaggy coiffures so coveted by today's modern trend setters.  Medium: graphite, watercolor in moleskine sketchbook, digital color.

Each photo is accompanied by styling instructions, product endorsements, side and back view photos, and a rather scientific diagram detailing head shape, measurements and upkeep. Medium: ink in moleskine sketchbook, digital color.

Here's a scan of one of my favorite hairstyles. I like it because it looks like a Christmas tree. I want to string festive lights around it, hang ornaments on each of the branches, maybe tuck a few presents under it.

Some of the boys look like ethereal forest elves who wear pink lipstick and smell of roses. Sure, I took some artistic license and made his ears a wee bit more pointy, but I swear it's not that much of an exaggeration. Medium: gouache, ink, scrap of Japanese newspaper in moleskine sketchbook.

While other boys look as though they've emerged from a thorny briar patch. Medium: ink in moleskine sketchbook.

Massive Grunting Lumps of Rock Hard Testosterone - Part TWO

Continuing my freakish fascination with extreme body builders, I picked up a copy of Muscular Fitness at Barnes and Noble and found a nice squinty faced model to sketch.  Once finished, I was in the mood to experiment with some new materials and techniques...

So I transfered the image onto a sheet of polypropylene and allowed the painting to emerge over several days by dripping several layers of translucent color on it. It doesn't look so much like a body builder any more and thus, I am over my freakish fascination and am moving on to a new human tribe to obsess over. Medium: above - graphite on paper, below - acrylic on polypropylene, digital enhancement.

Massive Grunting Lumps of Rock Hard Testosterone - Part ONE

I tried so very hard not to collapse into giggles when I heard the growling grunts and chest beating howls coming from the weight room just a few feet away from where I was working out.  While I find the body builder's dedication and hard work impressive, some of them get carried away to an almost cartoon-like extreme.  How am I supposed to lift this puny 10 lb hand weight when there's a massive mountain of snarling growling testosterone crouched on the floor like a grimacing gargoyle just a few feet away?  Medium: Pastel on paper.

If I did happen to burst out in muffled laughter, I didn't worry about being spotted and subsequently pummeled - those guys were too busy preening like glistening peacocks in front of the mirrors to notice anyone else.  I must admit, I enjoyed watching them and each giggle gave my core a good workout. Medium: Graphite on paper, digital color.

It Happened One Day on A Boat to Victoria

One day I took a ferry from Seattle to Victoria, Canada. I had smuggled a half bottle of wine (concealed in a Starbucks cup - classy!) and a copy of Scientific American to keep me occupied. A short while into our trip over the choppy cold water, I had settled in and the warmth of wine was coursing comfortably through my veins. Reading an article about African Cichlids, a type of fish known as a mouth brooder, I was fascinated to learn the female lays eggs in the sand, the male comes along and fertilizes them, and then the female scoops them in her mouth. When they're hatched and ready, she spits them out. Thrilling, no?  I was looking at several pics of wide mouthed fish that accompanied the article when I heard a little kid giggling uncontrollably.  I looked up to see the lady next to me had fallen asleep with her mouth wide open.  The kid was getting such a kick out of the sight, that we started giggling together.  I sketched the woman right away, much to the delight of the snickering imp. I gave the original to my little pal, but I drew a few more versions - one of 'em is above.  I know it's strange, but you do what you can to pass the time when stuck on a crowded ferry.   

The Swedish Lamp Incident: A True Story

Someone dragged me kicking and screaming into Ikea, but thankfully I brought my sketchbook. At first, I was feeling claustrophobic with so many bodies swarming around silly Swedish furniture with names like Doofen Shaakel and Voorj Bjiik. I was about to tell my companion I'd meet him outside because I couldn't take it anymore, but then.....I saw them. A giant angry woman wearing a Christmas sweater was loudly arguing with a tiny cowering man wearing a floppy Gilligan hat. He was sheepishly holding a lamp up to show her, "Do you like this one honey?" he wimpered. "NOOOOOOOO!" she screamed. He slumped and turned to put the lamp back, his little Gilligan hat flopping in the wake as he stomped. Suddenly, Ikea became very interesting and I refused to leave. I stalked them as they wandered about the store. She towered over him and her Darth Vader helmet of hair gave her an imposing presence. He'd pick up a Swedish trinket of some sort, show it to her, and then you'd hear "NOOOOO!!!!" each time.

The best part was at the checkout line. They were still arguing about the lamp, thirty minutes after she shot him down. Like a little kid who didn't get the candy he wanted, the man whined and complained, "Why, why can't we get the laaaaaaaaamp?" This is the reason I don't watch reality TV - there's just so much better entertainment out there in the real world. Medium: pen, ink in moleskine, scrap paper.

Butts of Summer

I've spent much time lingering near tourist traps with my sketchbook this summer and here are some of the results. I couldn't help but notice a large number of horizontally-challenged butts populating the streets this year. Yep. I decided to create a comic strip called Butts of Summer and this is my first panel.

Medium: Brush pen and ink watercolor in sketchbook, scrap paper.

The Angriest Woman To Ever Wear A Balloon Hat

My best friend and I were people watching in a sunny city park near the Pike Place Market in Seattle. Lolling in the grass while enjoying the clear skies and warm sunshine, we spotted a middle-aged woman wearing a colorful balloon hat. Despite the cheeriness perched happily atop her head, her face was deeply etched with anger and she appeared to be having a most miserable day. Somewhat shocked at the juxtaposition, we kept our eyes locked on her until she glanced over and gave us the icy glare of death (see above). We were momentarily gripped by fear, but as soon as she walked past us, there was nothing else we could do but fall back into the grass in laughter. We had encountered the Angriest Woman To Ever Wear A Balloon Hat. Medium: worn out magic markers in tattered sketchbook.

Granny Terrorizes Highway, Makes Threatening Gestures

It was a pleasant Sunday afternoon and I had taken my cherished 1976 Cadillac DeVille out for a spin on the highway. Zooming down the fast lane, I noticed a wildly swerving pickup truck gaining on me and honking. I was going 75mph, but it wasn’t fast enough for the Speedy Gonzales about to run me off the road so I switched lanes to let the driver pass. When I glanced over to check out the crazy person, the exact image you see above is what I saw. An angry diabolical granny, the cotton-candy white hair blowing in the wind, a withered weather-beaten fist shaking at me while her pendulous arms quivered like jello. Her mouth was open wide as she furiously screamed “Get the f*ck out of my way!!!!” as bits of spittle flew about in the wind. The image of her seared into my brain with such clarity that I was able to go home and draw her in my sketchbook later that evening.