This week, I write under rather unusual circumstances. See, on Sunday, I was doing a lot of leaf-raking, followed by running, followed by more leaf-raking, followed by bringing in the outdoor furniture. And somewhere in this smorgasbord of physical activity, I managed to throw my back out.

I must admit this is not a rare affliction for me. In the parlance of our times, I have what they call a "trick back". I say trick in the sense that it likes to play practical jokes on me — hilarious jokes — like all the muscles that allow me to hold my body upright suddenly decided to... disappear! So, up until about today, I couldn't move about the house unless I was doubled-over, watching my feet. And while I'm unhappy with such circumstances, I can at least be thankful that I can sit comfortably in a chair. Otherwise I'd have to work while laying down, and I hate the implications of telling people that I'm currently earning a living on my back.

But, enough about my back. The important message of today is that I'm now selling 5 new prints in the Bearskinrug Store. So if you've always wanted your own copy of Manda, Mantelope, Giraffellow, Hebra and Shebra, or Lady Sowager, now is the time to pick them up! Figuratively and literally. Because you know, I shouldn't be doing any lifting with my back like this. Have you no heart?

It take two things to be a real-estate entrepreneur: money, and big ideas. And while I don't have the money for entrepreneurship, I do have plenty of big ideas. Huge ideas. Picture this: you go to an amusement park with the family. You're enjoying rides, exotic sugar-based foods, ample parking, be-costumed trademark cartoon characters — all the family-fun you'd expect from a Six-Flags or Disneyland. And at the same time, you're enjoying the peace and harmony of the outdoors, as the entire park floats down one of nature's most beautiful waterways!

But something's missing... where's the adventure? The thrills? Don't pack up the kids and head home yet... because in mere moments you, and the entire park, will share the experience of a lifetime as you plunge over Niagara Falls!

All interested investors can reach me through my contact form. Choose the subject line "I want in on the riverbed floor..."

Humanity's Second-Oldest Profession

Now, I bet you're saying to yourself, "Well, that explains the top page... but what's this bottom one?" You might even be thinking that this is one of those "Doodle-Off" competitions I wrote about a while ago. Wrong! What you're looking at are the early plans for reviving one of man's most exciting and time-tested job opportunities!

Centuries ago, resourceful young men pooled their talents and formed powerful investment groups that traveled the countryside in search of high-risk, high-yield ventures such as raping villages and hijacking trains. Due to market fluctuations, economic downturn, and posses most of these large firms went defunct, but in this new economic atmosphere there's no better time to revive the time-honored career of Banditoing!

I am accepting applications through my contact form. Choose the subject line "Yes! I'm interested in longer horseback rides and a shorter lifespan..." and include any previous pillaging experience. Vikings need not apply.

Costume parties always sound like fun to me, but I rarely ever put on an outfit for one. And if I do make a costume, you can bet I didn't put much effort into it. I have a bit of a mental block when it comes to using creativity in the "real world" rather than on paper. Also, I believe a party should be an opportunity to decrease stress. It seems odd to tack on five or six extra hours of work before a party creating an uncomfortable costume which, odds are, I will throw out as soon as I get home.

What I should do from now on is create costumes that are still useful after the party. Like a cop uniform. Or a coffin.

I think I'd like to throw a dinner party. I really don't know much about them, except from what I've gleaned from New Yorker cartoons. I know I should be wearing a white tie and black jacket, and Kim should be wearing pearls and perhaps holding opera glasses. Also the entire dinner conversation has to revolve around the news of the day, you know, iceberg-related tragedies and maybe the latest fashions out of Paris. And after dinner the men and I retire to the drawing room, where we'll smoke cigars and talk about subjects inappropriate for discussion in front of the more delicate sex. Our penises, I guess.

Lately, I've been pleasantly surprised to find that people are getting tattoos of things I've drawn. This is quite a compliment for any artist to receive — it's heart-warming to know that someone was willing to sit in intense pain for up to three hours for me. The only other people about whom I could say the same are the unlucky recipients of the meatloaf I made with expired ground beef, expired eggs, and – somehow – expired salt.

I have dealt with the subject of tattoos before. A ways back, I came to the conclusion that the best kind of tattoo was a functional one. With a functional tattoo, even when the luster and novelty of the tattoo has worn off years later, the information it presents still makes it a relevant addition to your skin. But while I proposed a couple practical tattoos, I never really took the next logical step of providing one. Until now, that is.

The Bearskinrug CPR Tattoo

Behold! Pictured above is a tattoo detailing the important steps of CPR. Simply download the file from here, go to your local inksmith, and get this handy guide tattooed on your person. I honestly feel that the inside of the forearm is the best place for it. That way you can either refer to it yourself as you give CPR, or it can be easily readable by persons performing CPR on you.

I got the steps from a couple of sources online, but I will warn you I didn't actually run this by a doctor or any sort of legitimate health organization. And while I tried to make things as legible as possible, I'm not exactly familiar with how ink reacts to skin, so hopefully the lettering is large and clear enough. And lastly, I'd recommend that if you plan to get this tattoo, you never wear long sleeves, and always try to have a heart attack while laying on your back. And please, if you do happen to get one, share the results with me. The tattoo I mean. Not the heart attack.

Not that I don't want to hear about your heart attack. Especially if it was my meatloaf that did it.

This has been a Bearskinrug Public Health Message.

What a shame. It's tough being a single parent, working and raising a child. Even if the child is just a pillow tucked under a maternity dress. Although, in Mojo's defense, an overstuffed pillow is much closer to being the actual offspring of a sock monkey than a real baby.

I suppose we shouldn't judge him until Lew finishes that study on sock monkey reproduction.

I recently arrived home from a trip to the Ottawa International Animation Festival with my frequent travel companions, Rob and Sutter. We had made a similar trip about two years ago, and I for one was looking forward to the opportunity to drink in Ottawa's many pubs, re-caffeinate at their many coffee places, and eat at their many breakfast places (in one of which we shared a delicious meal with two outstanding Ottawan natives). But even more than eating and greeting, I was looking forward to getting some quality time with my sketchbook, and sharing the results with you fine people.

This particular sketchbook is Sketchbook Twenty, a thin-paged Moleskine Notebook. For this trip, I decided to create themed pages to give me something to react to. The "Antique" page is displayed above, and contains one of the numerous comics created by Rob, Sutter, and I, where we'd draw one frame each and hand it off to the next person. It's a much easier way to make a comic. Unless you're the person who has to do the punchline. Then it's much, much harder. We like to give those to Rob.

But, as you can guess, I didn't just create an Antique Page. I also created a "Smoking" page, a "Flour" page, a "Signs" page, and many more. Below is half of the "Curmudgeon" page. Of particular interest here is the depiction of my old, cranky, grizzled iMac translated to human form. Though in reality, my iMac didn't lose an i.

Life Lessons Learned While Sitting In A Dark Non-Porno Theater

I uncovered one of life's important truths this festival. Apparently, the more ambiguous a person's storyline is, the longer they need to make their animation. Sitting there in the dark, I believe I finally came to understand what it's like to be a manic depressive, as the majority of short, punchy animations seemed to be book-ended by slow, sad, and tedious explorations of abstract narrative. It got to the point where I was drawing in the theater once I would (inevitably) lose the storyline. I had just enough time and low light to speculate how one of the particularly laborious offenders was conceived and produced:

But, ponies aside, I'm now home, and glad for it. Travel is a necessary evil to remind me why I choose the life of a recluse in the first place. Even Ernie's relentless barking and philosophy of unceasing subversion seem cute and amusing after several days away from home. Why, I'm not even dismayed at the prospect of stamping, signing, wrapping, and mailing fifty books for the rest of the week!

Well... maybe I'm a little dismayed.

Hey... are you talking about Benjamin Button?

Yes I am. The books finally arrived while I was gone, so if you ordered a copy, delivery is impending! Feel free to shout with glee. I'll join you...

Weeeeeeeeeeeee....

More than anything, this comic makes me wonder about the "urgent business" for which Death had to leave. Think about it — for him to zip off in the middle of a reaping means it was probably an emergency, and judging by the nature of his job, the biggest emergency he could have is someone coming back to life.

So I bet zombies make Death really annoyed. He's probably standing around, watching all these undead walk by, and he's all like "Crap! This is three month's worth of work down the toilet!"

Shit. I probably shouldn't have written that. It would have made a pretty good Six-Penny Anthem for Halloween. Everyone forget I wrote that!

I'll start over again.

Grim Business Humor

I bet Death probably had a good chuckle when he came to the part about leaving his sickle in the "living room", Right? Am I right?

The custom of toting about a rabbit's foot really is quite odd. Although I have to admit, I never really came to this conclusion until getting Ernie.

There's actually a great deal of similarity between rabbits and dachshunds. Both are quite diminutive in stature, and have long skinny builds with short limbs. I first noticed this relationship when taking Ernie out to answer the call of nature. Observe:

So one day, Kim and I were sitting on the couch — feeling Ernie's paws — and the contrast of soft fur over hard knuckle and nail both reminded us of rabbit's feet. And after a few minutes mulling over this new revelation, we decided it would make much more sense for us to cut off one of Ernie's feet, rather than waste money in the Kmart vending machine. But, knowing that Ernie needs his paws to destroy our floors, we selflessly put the idea aside.

With enough of you bibliophiles seemingly interested in owning an autographed copy of Benjamin Button, I've made them available in the store for pre-order. So feel free to order yourself a copy. But, if you need some art to get your book-owning juices aroused, then by all means continue reading.

The Light Of Day

As I have mentioned before, I did quite a lot of research and drawing for Benjamin Button. Originally, some of this art was to be included in the book itself. But as it turns out, we didn't really have enough room. Luckily, this website is a fine venue for the Showing of Things, and so today I figured I'd share some of the concept art.

One of the first problems I tackled when I started work on the book was designing Benjamin. On the surface, this seemed difficult. The story bounces between moments of humor, and moments of sadness, and for the most part, the old Benjamin was designed for comedic value, but as he... uh... youngened he needed to be dashing and handsome, able to convey callousness and vanity, yet still be likeable.

So what I did first was design an old, rather grumpy and odd-looking Benjamin, and then age that character backwards. I lucked out in that I was very happy with the results early on, and didn't need to really explore much further than the Benjamins you see above.

When I was approached by Quirkbooks, they already knew they wanted the final art in watercolor, Lester, Bow & Fiddle being the prime example of the style. This scared the crap out of me, chiefly because a graphic novel composed of such tight watercolors would take me... oh... seventeen years. But after talking it out, we agreed to sort of a watercolor/pencil hybrid style. Knowing that, I wanted to work up the roughs in a style that was quick, but would also allow the Quirkbooks staff to see how it could translate to watercolor. The page above is really just me practicing that rough style, before any work was done.

My favorite part of the concept art process, without a doubt, is creating characters. Here's a smattering of portraits for various book characters. Truth be told, I rarely had an opportunity to draw characters with such detail as you see here; the small format really only gave me enough room for a pair of dark eye sockets, a shadow under the nose, and a mouth in most panels. But still, it's best to have a fully fleshed-out character which you then simplify when it comes to the actual panel art.

As I also mentioned before, I had to spend a lot of time researching period dress. The page above explores some of those different eras. Of particular interest to me when I was doing research was seeing how drastically women's fashion seemed to change around that 1910 era. Makes me think that there's still a chance we might all be wearing unisex silver jumpsuits by 2010, like they predicted in the fifties. Fingers crossed!

For those of you who long to wear this coupon-cutting felon on your chest, I have good news. Classic Lew Shirts are now available for purchase in the Bearskinrug Store. Finally, you can wear a t-shirt and scarf at the same time!

Regarding Autographed copies of Benjamin Button

At the encouragement of the good folks at Quirkbooks, I'll be putting autographed copies of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button up for sale in my store. Unfortunately, I won't be able to get a hold of any books to actually sign just yet. I may open the store up for pre-orders, but I'll know for sure in the next week or so. More news to follow!

As you may remember, I had to take a hiatus of sorts from Bearskinrug back in February. Despite speculations to the contrary, I did not go on a pilgrimage; and even if I did, it wouldn't have been to Furhnersville, Ohio (I'm not even sure what religion is based there, Mr. Tolleson). Also, I did not go undercover in order to reveal magicians' secrets (get your head on straight, Biggest Apple).

Nor was I abducted by aliens — well, let me rephrase that. I was abducted by aliens, but that's really not why I went on hiatus. I mean, I was back the next morning. They did some light dental work, and replaced a crown — top notch job for extraterrestrials with beaks.

No, I actually was working on a graphic novel.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

If this name sounds familiar to you, it's probably because there's a movie of the same name being released in December. But, as tends to happen in film adaptations, the movie version deviates considerably from the original short story. So in December of 2007, local Philadelphia publisher Quirkbooks contacted me to see if I was interested in doing a graphic novel adaptation, intended to be as true to the original tale as possible. Seeing as it gave me a chance to draw people with large beards, mustaches, top hats, and bow ties, I summarily agreed.

As I'd hope you can gather from the amount of thumbnails pictured above, it was quite an undertaking. I needed to create approximately 115 pages of art, as well as the cover, within 5 months. And while I'd created comics before, I'd never worked on one so large in scope. What's more, being a period piece, I needed to do appropriate research on not just one single era of fashion, architecture, technology, and other social bric-a-brac, but on seven decades' worth (1860-1930). The story takes place in several prominent locations, including Baltimore, Yale, and Harvard, all of which have their own landmarks worthy of include. All of those landmarks then required proper research on how they appeared (and whether they appeared) in the appropriate time period. Throw in the usual responsibilities of properly-drafted anatomy and setting, clear storytelling, character design, and layout, and I had my hands full.

But thankfully, I was working with an excellent team. Nunzio DeFilippis and Christina Weir scrupulously adapted the script and did the immeasurably tedious work of deciding what action and text appeared in each panel on each page. The book designer, Bryn Ashburn, handled the typesetting and design (and graciously shared the balancing act I had to perform with regards to type versus image hierarchy). Lastly, Jason Rekulak, the Editorial Director, kept the job and story on track, and added the "infectious enthusiasm" a recluse tends to need while said recluse is drawing 12 hours a day.

And that, as they say, is that. Hopefully that's an acceptable explanation for abandoning this website for several weeks. There's quite a bit of leftover concept art I hope to share, so keep your eyes peeled for that. The book itself will be released in stores come October, but for anyone interested in pre-ordering, it is listed on Amazon (though the interior samples it's displaying are the roughs).

This just goes to show, you don't need to have magic powers, or have super-strength to be a hero. There's a hero in all of us, just waiting to come out. Like yesterday, I was driving the car, and I came to this four-way intersection. And there were three other cars at the intersection. So I waved one fellow on, even though I could have gone. Then I waved the next fellow on. And then, I felt so good, I waved the other car on. But cars kept appearing behind all those cars I waved on. So I selflessly waved a few of them on as well. And behind me, all the other cars were honking their admiration for my sacrifice. Until finally the guy behind me got out of his car to congratulate me, or get my autograph or something. But I don't go in for that kind of ego-inflating, so I just ignored his taps on my window. Anyway, I don't have the right kind of pen for signing a tire iron.

There's a lot of paper choices out there. A lot. And I'm not even counting weird non-artistic paper, like wax paper or wall paper. Yet I still haven't found the perfect paper. Each paper, has its advantages, and its disadvantages. As the old saying goes, you can't have your cake and eat it to. Not that you'd want to eat your paper. Well, except rice paper.

Anyway...

In these past three Bear Tools installments, I've spoken about what you're drawing or painting with, but not necessarily what you're drawing on. With that in mind, I think I'd like to go over those tools again, but this time list what kind of paper I'd use with them.

Paper for Roughs

Nearly every time I'm created a pencil rough, I'm using plain, old, easy-to-find computer paper. Part of this is because I do such a vast amount of rough drawing that to try and limit myself to using only drawing paper would bankrupt me. Another reason is purely psychological; a piece of crappy computer paper is a lot less intimidating than a spankin' new sketchbook. So I fucked up — big deal. Throw it in the bin and start again. And still yet another reason for using computer paper is that it's thin enough for tracing (without a lightboard) should the situation call for it¹.

But, as I mentioned, each paper comes with its drawbacks, and a major drawback of this stuff is that it's probably not going to last 100 years. I do buy acid-free computer paper, but even so, it's just not the most sturdy of stocks. But time will tell.

Paper for Pen & Ink

For situations where I'm using a Crow Quill Pen and ink, I almost always stick to 100 lb. Vellum Bristol Board. The smooth, but not-too-smooth texture is optimal for line-making, and it's thick and durable enough to prevent bleeding or tearing of the paper. Yet still thin enough so that, with a good lightboard or a big window on a sunny day, I can place my rough underneath and lightly transfer the image in pencil.

The only drawback in this case is that when there's a lot of washing or brushing of black, the paper might warp, and warping makes scanning and framing much tougher. But to be honest, this is more of a problem I run into with painting.

For situations where I'm using a Micron, or a Rapidograph, again Bristol Board would be my paper of choice, were I planning to frame or display the art. But in most cases, if I need to draw with a Micron, it's for comics like Ambidextrous or Mojo; and those are done on computer paper, with frames pre-xeroxed for my own convenience.

Otherwise, if I'm using one of these pens, I'm probably drawing in a sketchbook (which I'll address down below). Really, all I need to make sure of when I'm choosing paper for these sort of pens is that the paper doesn't bleed excessively. So I can safely say that napkins and paper towels will never be my paper of choice.

Drawbacks? Why, the same ones I face when I do roughs. No guarantee of longevity. Someday, perhaps, I'll find a xerox machine that I can run Bristol Board through, but for now, I'll just have to make due.

Paper for Painting

Okay... here's where paper choices seem to explode. It's also where I experience the greatest tug-of-war between pros and cons. I think for this section, It'd be easier to list the papers I've used, and share the advantages and disadvantages. Now, if you remember, I work almost exclusively in watercolor and gouache, so these materials all are suited for those two painting mediums. If you want to work in oils or acrylics... I can't help you.

Hot Press Watercolor Paper

There's three species of watercolor paper out there: Hot Press, Cold Press, and Rough. Hot press paper has a smoothest surface of these three species. I prefer a smoother surface, because it allows me to add more detail per inch of picture. Also, hot press paper tends not to "soak up" the paint as readily, making it easier for me to build up layers of gouache.

But that's not all to consider with watercolor paper, because one also must contemplate the paper's weight. At least at my local art stores, there's pretty much three options: 90, 140, and 300 lb. paper. What's important to understand here is that as the weight increases, the smoothness of the surface decreases. So here's where the balancing act starts. On one hand, the 90 lb. lets me add the most detail, allows for easy transferral of the rough, and lets me build gouache up the easiest. But, that lighter, thinner weight means a greater chance of the paper warping², which means it's harder to frame, and harder to scan³. Also, after a certain point, paper can become so warped it gets difficult to even continue painting. The 140 lb., as you probably guessed, is less prone to warping, but its surface is rougher. And to be honest, it still warps way more than I want.

So that leaves me with the 300 lb. Hot Press. Which actually is a pretty good compromise. The surface is rough, but less so than the cold press or rough press, so I can still get in enough detail to be happy; yet the paper is durable enough that it survives warping, and is easy to frame.

Cold Press Watercolor Paper

So after getting the skinny on Hot Press, you should already have a pretty good idea of what Cold Press Watercolor Paper has to offer. It's got a rougher surface; so if detail is your thing, you might want to steer clear. But, in many instances, you might really want to have that rough texture prevalent throughout the painting (it does lend itself to more traditional "suggestive" watercolor landscapes), so maybe this is an option to consider. Again, you'll have three weights to choose from, each with their drawbacks with regard to surface smoothness and durability.

With regards to Rough paper, I don't have anything worth saying. In my mind it's pretty much Cold Press paper that's even more rough. I really can't remember ever using it. Maybe someday, if I need to sand my elbows.

Illustration Board

Another common paper I'll use isn't exactly a paper. Illustration Board is sort of like a cross between paper and heavy cardboard. Suffice it to say, it's got 90 lb. watercolor paper utterly whooped when it comes to durability.

Much like watercolor paper, with Illustration Board you have Hot Press and Cold Press options. Now, in an curious twist of fate, Hot Press is the option I avoid. It's too smooth. At least for my taste. Like Colt 45. I'm not sure what medium it's for, anyway. The "Ice Skate" perhaps.

Cold Press Illustration Board, however, is perfect, at least for what I want to achieve. The way it soaks up washes, the texture it creates, the ease with which I can build up gouache layers; it's just a treat to use. The only drawback is that I can't use a lightboard to transfer the rough. Instead, I need to print out the rough, draw on the reverse side in a soft graphite (tracing the important outlines and visual landmarks) then place it on the illustration board so that the graphite side is down, and then rub it onto the illustration board to leave a light copy. Then I can pencil again, using the rubbed outline as a guide. So... yeah. It gets kinda tedious.

One other thing to note about Cold Press Illustration Board, is that I prefer to use the "double-thick" board. The single-thickness board can still curdle a bit. Like Colt 45 with milk.

Sketchbooks

I have, over the years, invested a great deal of time and money in sketchbooks. I sort of lump sketchbooks into two categories. On one hand there's sketchbooks that one keeps in the studio or desk, for planning paintings or fleshing out concepts. 9"×12" sort of things, or maybe even 11"×14". Lots of room. Then, on the other hand, there's sketchbooks that one plans to carry around with them everywhere. More of travel journal — the sketchbook equivalent of a camera, for quick snapshots or for capturing ideas on-the-spot.

With regards to the first category, the at-home book, I don't have too much to say. I really only try to meet two requirements: that it's recycled paper, and that it's acid-free. These aren't hard requirements to hit, and they have little to do with artistic preference. However, there is one brand of book that works particularly well with my rough drawing method. So consequently I'm a big fan of the Robert Bateman Recycled Sketchbooks.

With regards to the second category, the take-me-places book, I'll share my findings. But first, I have to break the sad news that I can no longer find the "Sketchbook One"-style sketchbook. I bought it initially at Barnes & Noble around 2001, and saw them around for a couple years, but they no longer seem to be available. And since I threw out the wrapping, I really can't remember the manufacturer. It might have been something like... Equis. But other than that I can't remember. Sorry.

A good brunt of my sketchbook collection is made up of Cachet Wirebound Journals, the 5¼ × 8¼ size. I find the book to be sturdy, the paper to be of fine tooth acceptable for pen and pencil. It's durable enough that I could draw on both sides with only minimal ghosting. It can even tolerate a little watercolor washing, though really not too much (and the paper will most certainly warp).

Not counting random boutique-manufactured sketchbooks I've bought here and there, the majority of my sketchbooks are Moleskines. Of those, I've found the Moleskine Sketchbook to be somewhat ill-suited to how I draw. The paper is too smooth, and has a waxy coating that makes Micron lines sort of grey out, and makes watercolor washes impossible. Rapidograph lines have yet to be tested, but I suspect they'll work okay. I will say they're fantastic for Crow Quill drawings — however I do advise spray-fixing the drawing when you're done, as it will tend to leave black bits on the opposing page (or drawing).

Now, while I don't have any strong attachment to Moleskine's normal sketchbook, their Watercolor Sketchbook is definitely my favorite choice of any sketchbook. The paper weight is heavy enough to minimize warping, and all my chosen mediums — pencil, pen, crow quill, watercolor, and gouache — look handsome on its pages. It opens flat, so it's easy to draw even down into the binding (of course, this is a feature of all Moleskines, and even the Cachet Journals above can do something similar), making it easier to scan. Just about the only drawback to these is that the most manageably-sized one only comes in landscape format. I'm just a portrait type of guy I guess.

Untested Options

Now, while I haven't tried every sketchbook out there, I've at least gone to the trouble of bookmarking one or two of the interesting options I come across, for trial later. Perhaps some of these might float your boat. Or perhaps they've already floated it and now you can share your findings:

Bear Tools: The End

Okay! So that concludes this little series about the tools I use day-to-day. Of course, everyone has different preferences, and I can safely say my choices aren't always suited to everyone. But, for someone looking for a place to start, hopefully this was helpful. And hell, if you paid close attention and read between the lines, there's probably a lot of technique revealed in these past four articles⁴. But I have to say I'm glad to have finished. I've been standing in front of this table for close to a month, and none of these tools in front of me were edible.

I think I'll catch a quick 40 winks in the barn. Tah!

footnotes

¹ One important thing to remember here is that I am a commercial artist rather than a fine artist. And while I do value the creation of compelling original art, my final "goal" is almost always an image on the web or in print. So, someone with more of a fine artist bent may not want to sacrifice the quality of their original art for speed, or for a better quality reproduction, like I often do.

² Of course, warping can be avoided by stretching your watercolor paper. I haven't done this in years, mainly because... well... I'm too impatient for it. That, and extensive preparation of any canvas can often lead to cold feet when it comes time to paint. You get that... "I just spent forever stretching this thing... I better save it for a masterpiece". And then you go off and plan your masterpiece. And then you lose interest because you didn't capitalize on the painting when you were excited about it. So I'm not saying don't stretch your canvas — but I can certainly understand if you don't want to.

³ One aspect I always have to keep in mind when planning a painting is making sure it's a scannable size. Not that you can't scan in a large painting in pieces (I've had to do this quite a few times), but that requires some serious Photoshopping skill and time. So it pays to make sure your paper fits on your scanner before you start.

⁴ I'm not a big supporter of creating tutorials or revealing technique. I suppose in some instances it's helpful, but for the most part I think it's better to try and figure out someone else's technique yourself. For one thing, you end up learning way more stuff because you're trying new things and testing new methods. And for another, mimicking exactly how someone works means you're not exploring your own style to the fullest. But I'm sure others share differing opinions.

This sort of thing used to happen a lot in the early sixties. I bet it's because so many husbands had to work late to afford bomb shelters. I mean, the cost of digging the bomb shelter itself was pretty hefty, but then you had to stock it with enough reading material for two months. That's a lot of magazine subscriptions to pay off. And what with the growing popularity of the one-dish-feeds-all casserole, suddenly the housewife found she had much more time on her hands, and let me tell you the growing popularity of the mustache on door-to-door salesmen was not helping her maintain her fidelity.

Luckily, by the late sixties, this sort of thing went out of vogue in favor of wholesome, outdoor concert orgies.