Chris Ryniak is sculpting super-awesome things in highly-toxic clay.
Check ’em out here.
Hat tip to Boing Boing.
No, I’m just kidding.
But I did talk to him last night to let him know that I’ll be posting the pencils to Kenwoode as I finish them. And, true to my word, “Page 2” is revealed today; you can access it through the “Pages” menu to the right.
Yes, I draw this project on graph paper. Get off my ass.
The main reason for this is simple: I just realized I posted the first Page on Nov. 19th. At this pace, we should finish… The Twelfth of Never. Which is sort of the antithesis of the whole project. I’m completely sympathetic to Carl’s demands of recent fatherhood; I also realize that if I don’t start adhearing to a weekly schedule of posting pencils, this project shall remain a pipe dream.
Thus, pencils for Page 2.
Here’s a Ricky Gervais quote I swiped from Andrew Sullivan; he used it as a blogging analogy, which is apt.
“Podcasting is perfect for me, because I’m always trying to aim at those things that only have self-censorship. I’m trying cut out all interference artistically. That’s also why stand-up is so exciting. What you say is what is heard. I think Woody Allen said,’The best an idea gets is when it’s in your head.’ So I’ve always been conscious of control. The more control you have, the more it can be what you would want to see or hear,” – Ricky Gervais
I also think it can apply to most pure art forms: jazz, improv, comics. One editor, yourself, the only interference is how quickly you get it down, and how honest you are in listening to your characters and that voice. You know the one.
(Above is Mike Mignola’s illustration for the trade paperback of Death Jr. I have no idea what Death Jr. is, but go buy everything that Mike Mignola draws. Both Carl and I love Mike’s stuff. Here’s hoping that Hellboy money has him in wine and roses.)
Posted in blog, Sports, tagged assassin, Celtics, Chauncey Billups, Derek Fisher, I'm still not calling you mamba, Kevin Garnett, KG, Kobe Bryant, Lakers, Ray Allen, Reggie Miller, Rip Hamilton, Steve Nash, Tim Duncan on February 7, 2009| Leave a Comment »
What a great game the other night, Lakers vs. Celts. I, of course, despite living in LA, will always cheer for KG. Always. My favorite player of all time. I love his game, his attitude, his intensity. One of my heroes.
But Kobe hit that late 3 last night, the one that Reggie Miller described as “cold-blooded.” And it was. Just deadly.
When it was Shaq and Kobe, I always hated Shaq. Not because he isn’t funny, or personable, or a great ambassador for the game. I hated him because the NBA let him charge on every single fucking play. Elbows. Running over people. Charges.
And the NBA just let it happen. Because he was so marketable.
(My caveat, of course, is that apparently Shaq paid for George Mikan’s funeral. That is one of the classiest things I’ve ever heard about in my life. Shaqtastic!)
I don’t think the NBA knows how many fans they’ve lost because of charges not getting called, players constantly carrying the ball, missed travel calls. Old school basketball fans look at it and say, “No thanks. I’ll watch college ball.”
I love pure basketball players. Tim Duncan (although I hate how whiney and chippy the Spurs as a whole have become). Steve Nash. Reggie Miller. Ray Allen. Garnett. Chauncey Billups. Rip Hamilton. Hell, Derek Fisher.
I got into an argument with a guy once about D Fish or Stevie Franchise. I was all about Fish (once again, despite hating the lake-less Lakers). The guy was all about “Franchise.” History has kicked that guy in the nuts for me.
So I’m watching the game last night, cheering for the Celts (as any good Minnesotan does now that Garnett plays for ’em- AUGGH! That late bullshit phantom 6th foul call on Garnett!) and Kobe hit that late three. And I just thought, “That’s the best player in basketball right now.” Kobe has it all. Range, evil moves, cold-bloodedness, psychotically high basketball IQ, he’s just beyond. Lebron, of course, is unreal, but the four steps to the basket can get a bit much.
I remember watching a T-Wolves vs. Lakers game in the Target Center, and some moron yelled out, “Hey Kobe, you’re still not Michael Jordan.”
Could that idiot have missed the point more? I would’ve loved to see Kobe turn around and yell, “No, I’m not. I’m Kobe goddamn Bryant, and I’m destroying your team by myself.
Much respect. And that’s from a guy who doesn’t say things like “much respect.”
I’m still not calling you “Mamba,” though.