The Pencilneck’s ® Disjointed Musings
One from the archives: the first trip The Colonel and I took after becoming parents. The horror…
You’ve been kidnapped and taken to an island off the coast of Alaska. Congratulations: you’ve got 48 hours to Escape From Ransom Island!
Maybe it’s the smog, maybe it’s the botox, or maybe it’s the lack of red meat, but Hollywood types seem to have absolutely no interest in making good television.
I’m often asked how I became The Pencilneck ©, and what the deciding factors were in choosing to pursue art, and the answer is…spite! 🙂
There are worse places to spend St. Patrick’s Day than Chicago. A few years ago I spent a whirlwind 48 hours there “on business”…
Dad’s riding mower was his pride and joy, but he made the mistake of teaching me to drive at a young age. It’s how I got embroiled in the affair of Assassinating Stanley.
Don’t try and give me any backchat about how your Mom’s shortbread cookies were good too because they’re not even close. Deal with it.
One of the problems about being a pencil artist is that everyone thinks that they know what pencil is. And erasers and erasing. Pfhfhft..
I tend to build up the tones on the page and dial in the detail towards the finish line. Waitaminute. You can’t draw white… rats!
When I asked about specifics for Porter’s wedding, he said “There’re no rules to this. Whatever happens…happens.” Uh oh.