Flaming ArtistI have titled this drawing, “Alien Thanksgiving”. I was trying to imitate Wally Wood’s inking style, but it ended up looking more like Richard Sala. Richard is cool, but he’s not someone I feel any need to emulate.
I originally drew this to be included in “Dames of the Atomic Age”, published in 2012 by ArtofFiction Press. I didn’t have the time to ink and color it myself. Now I am gradually rectifying this.http://www.artoffiction.com/ArtOfFiction/index.html
I drew this for inclusion in “Dames of the Atomic Age”, published by Art of Fiction Press in 2012. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to ink it or color it; I’m making up for that now. At least, I’m inking it. In stages. This is stage one.
Whereas many of my illustrations concentrate on phalluses, both symbolic and overt, I was being purposefully vaginal, symbolically speaking, in this illustration. The male astronaut bursting through the vaginal wall onto the alien family partaking in their Thanksgiving feast, is the one intrusive phallic element.
Happy Thanksgiving.
I am grateful that I can
draw, that I can post my drawings on my daily blog, that I have 32 followers to
my daily blog, that I live in a time and place where I can be open about my
sexuality and my primary relationships, that I am recovering nicely (some have
even said “miraculously”) from my April 2nd stroke, that I have my
old job back and can perform my professional tasks to everyone’s satisfaction,
that my boyfriend ordered matching wedding bands (one of which I am wearing),
that I live by the LA river and can walk my dogs there every day, that I am
able to walk my dogs every day, that it rained last night and the night before
but isn’t raining at the moment (so I can walk my dogs without getting wet),
that I haven’t lost anyone I love to violence, that all of my close relatives
are alive and healthy, that I can sing and play the guitar, that my boyfriends
likes listening to me sing and play the guitar.
I am grateful for all the
love and support I received when I was recovering from my recent stroke. I am
grateful to Richard and Sonia, who traded off spending each night with me while
I was in rehab, so that I never had to be alone in the hospital. I am grateful
that I’ve only gone hungry from my own choosing, that I have a roof over my
head and all the food and water I want. I am grateful for the apparent esteem
in which I seem to be held by my fellow professionals.
I am grateful to all the men
and women fighting the good fight when I am no longer able to, at least for
now. I am grateful to my current employer for offering my pre-stroke job to me
when I felt ready to step back into place.
This
is yet another self-portrait, less flattering than yesterday’s, though not
necessarily more realistic. Done with a Tombo Brush Pen, no underdrawing.
