If you happen to be in beautiful Xenia, Ohio any Thursday through Saturday between noon and 6:00 p.m., amble over to the Xenia Area Community Theater located at 45 E Second Street. As you see, they kindly put one of my paintings in their window for the Christmas season. They have a lot of great pieces ridiculously under-priced by some wonderfully talented local artists, so you’ll be glad you stopped by. For more information, visit their website at www.XeniaACT.org.
I did a couple of quick doodles of Uncle Creepy and Cousin Eerie some time back and thought I should try to complete the run by doing the final Warren Publishing title character — at least the last one I’m aware of — Vampirella, the never-overdressed vampire. She’d be arrested for indecent exposure at a nudist colony. Don’t vampires ever feel cold or self-conscious? But back to the subject. The Creepy and Eerie sketches were fun to draw since I only had to quickly fashion their faces. This one, however, took hours since, even if I had caught Vampirella’s facial features, which, alas, I didn’t, the character still demanded a rendition of her torso. Unfortunately, I don’t know anything about anatomy, undead or otherwise, so the result was not worth the time invested. My attempt at cheesecake turned out bloody awful, but since it’s of Vampirella, that makes it all right. Maybe next time, if there is a next time, I’ll draw Cousin Eerie dressed in her outfit. That should be fun. Or at least creepy.
“Like God did God make man; male and female made He them.”
Albeit but a pale and stunted imitation of the Eternal’s, a father’s love for his children still defies earthly measurement or mortal description. To celebrate Sarah’s arrival into the world and her maturing, I’d hoped to do a series of paintings based on nursery rhymes. I was only able to paint a few over the years, the first one being Old King Cole. Together he and I welcomed new life into this old place. And the years tumbled by and my newborn infant was suddenly a toddler, her hair matted with peas and applesauce. And now that toddler stands suddenly before me a radiant young woman, her hair still matted with peas and applesauce. She so takes after her mother. Once another Old King Cole and I bid a joyous greeting to baby Sarah; now this one and I join in wishing her a wistful farewell as she becomes an independent adult. It seems only a few days ago I brought her into the world and now she’s all ready to go out into it to find her own place and make her own mark. I know from experience that it’s a scary old world but I also know from experience that Sarah can be even scarier. Through these all-too-short years, you’ve made this old man very merry indeed, Sarah. Go get ‘em, girl!
One last bit of purple prose pontificating. Nothing is symmetrical in this piece, Sarah, everything is lopsided. That’s my preemptive visual sermon if someone should ever tell you that your life should be perfectly balanced, predictable, safe and unvaryingly pleasant. Such a fate may be fine for a goldfish in its bowl, but it’s a miserable lot for a human being. Almost everything in this life is slightly out of plumb, asymmetrical, off-kilter and askew. It’s rare to have a perfect fit. Although that might be irritating at times, it also means that no door can ever be irreversibly shut in this life, it’s always slightly ajar — and that’s part of the adventure that makes this life worth the living.
This is supposed to be my parents. I regret it turned out so poorly.
When I was a child, my heroes were my parents. As I grew older, my heroes were artists and philosophers, authors and statesmen. Now that I am old, my heroes are my parents. You have to live a long time to learn what you knew as a child.
Rest in peace, Dad and Mother.
This painting is based on a Barb Stork photograph of Sarah and two of her cousins. Since the meaning is obvious, I’ll just do some rambling of my own.
When I was young and on a summer amble, I’d often stand admiringly before a tree. By evening, when I’d finally put pencil to paper, the real tree had metamorphosed into an imaginary old man, with the intricate woody bark now changed into a network of wrinkled flesh and the insentient physical strength now turned contemplatively spiritual. “I see men as trees walking,” as it were. Now that I am old, this work shows my woeful inexperience in describing nature as itself. Hard as it is to tell, that’s supposed to be nature surrounding the children. Ah well! Maybe next time.
Early one morning, some time back, I did a quick sketch of Warren Publishing’s Uncle Creepy. Today I was torn between either drawing a companion Cousin Eerie or doing another self-portrait. This was my decision. I won’t divulge the mystery of who it represents, but I will let drop a clue that Kathy won’t let me in the house unless I put a bag over my head.
I’m proud to announce that my sister-in-law, Barb Stork, is having another artist’s exhibit! It’s called “Urban Spaces” and runs from the 2nd to the 27th of August. It’s at the Ghostlight Coffee, 1201 Wayne Avenue, Dayton, Ohio. The hours are Monday through Thursday, 7:00 am to 5:30 pm; Friday, 7 am to 9:30 pm; Saturday, 8:30 am to 9:30 pm and Sunday, 8:30 am to 5:30 pm. You can contact Ghostlike Coffee at email@example.com or telephone 937-985-2633. The opening reception will have music by the Zombie Dogz Food Truck and guitarist Cy Stork.