Design & Execution

I began a draft of this project years ago when I was living in central Denver, a region that naturally keeps its finger on the pulse of Buffalo hipsterdom. This was really more of an emo buffalo. My grasp of hipsterdom during the making of this sketch was as tenuous as it is now. Where was I going with that spiked wrist cuff? This never quite blossomed into a finished piece, but Buffalo Exchange fished it from the archives a few months ago and suggested I put a bow on it. I was overjoyed, but my zeal was soon tempered by the realization that hipsterdom of all kinds might have been redefined during the period between drafts. I decided to crowd-source my research on Facebook.  Some comments have been censored due to requests for buffalo nudity. From this thread, I gleaned that a fixed-gear bike would be an unavoidable accessory. Try though I might, I knew I wasn't going to find a photo of a buffalo riding a fixed-gear bike on any Flickr album to serve as a model...

This installation of Black Wolf of the Glacier drawings should probably appear in black, a tone of mourning. Since I last posted illustrations, I have lost the company of my generously-sized Intuos3 Wacom, the drawing tablet I used to complete all of my illustrations for Lucy's Dance . I never went as far as naming it, but its flat grey countenance had borne the tracing of some of my best current line drawings. It weathered my dropping it, tripping on its cord, and sullying it with foodstuffs enough that like the Velveteen Rabbit, it became real. Then a loose power cord did it in at last. and I watched its blue connection LED flicker away like a fairy, and yes, I did try clapping it back to life. When hope seemed distant, I also resorted to prying it open and looking inside, but it was no use. My new wireless Intuos4 is pulling its slight weight. The smaller 8x5" surface doesn't feel restrictive, considering I draw primarily from my wrist; rather, it makes each movem...

Here's what's happened in illustrations 1-8:  We know that a Romeo the wolf enjoys roaming the forest, perching majestically on rocks, and breakfasting on small, furry animals. We know that a young girl and her dog live in the area and enjoy recreating on forest trails. We've been here before. Remember Red Riding Hood? Peter? A trio of pigs?  The suspense behind pages 9-17 rests on layer after layer of cautionary folklore about wolves. If wolves are at large, and if one owns a brick house, one stays inside and stops up one's chimney. Those brazen enough to hazard the woods alone might find themselves and their grandparents being freed from a canine esophagus by the business end of a woodsman's axe. And that's in the happy version of the story. Those old fairy tales didn't pull any punches. I can still feel those anti-wolf instincts when I hear even the cheerful part of Tchaikovsky's theme to Peter and the Wolf . But seasons change--stories, like layer...

Let's pretend that you're an unsuspecting pug-dog on a day trip near Mendenhall Glacier in Juneau, Alaska. Let's pretend that you throw caution to the wind and wander a little out of leash-radius without even wearing your hand-knit sweater. Before you know it, you find yourself snatched up in the jaws of a black wolf, carried out of rescue range, and suddenly acutely aware that you are shape and size of a meatloaf. What are your odds of survival? Odds are pretty good, it turns out, if the wolf is Romeo--the main character of Black Wolf of the Glacier , a forthcoming book by Deb Vanasse. Now you see why I am back from my blogging hiatus. Black Wolf will tell the true (if somewhat apocryphal) story of Romeo, a wolf who frequented the Mendenhall Glacier near Juneau, Alaska. Romeo never appeared with a pack, but fraternized regularly with local and visiting dogs. He was known for approaching people and dogs without menace or interest in food, though he was...

. . . or it will be on April 22. Recent business of life has crippled my blogging effort, but I enjoyed creating this commissioned sketch for Buffalo Exchange's Earth Day Dollar Sale benefiting the Humane Society. Is the squirrel eating the earth or protecting it? This is a question I often ask about myself.

Although the comparison is not made explicitly in the story of Lucy's Dance , Lucy's gift to her Apa is a primitive dance stick, arguably the most important prop in the Curukaq dance festival. These words from the Stebbins Dance Festival book recall the role of the dance stick: "Holding the dance wands, the directors recalled remarkable encounters between humans and animals." "Each of the three (dance) directors held an eniraraun (dance baton, pointer), also referred to as apallircuun (literally, 'device for providing the verse'), a two-to thee-foot-long wooden wand that the directors moved in time to the drumbeat. Each pointer was decorated with feathers topped with down or rabbit fur that accentuated its movement. Carvers also sometimes appended small, wooden figurines. In some villages the wands held by the two outside directors had crosspieces. The straight central wand, trimmed with a wolf or fox tail, referred to the well-known story of a man wh...

This Christmas, I find myself surrounded with a banquet of non-electronic sources of entertainment, including silly putty, books, family, as well a literal banquet. However, I also find myself without internet for some ten days this Christmas. Today, the withdrawal symptoms have been punctuated with a trip to a local Panera. I feel like an alcoholic slipping down to the corner bar, only my cup contains mango ceylon tea which delivers a fresh smack of fishtank pebbles with each sip. The wi-fi, however, is slicker than I-80 in January. In a brief (and and slightly overdue) detour from Lucy's Dance , the book for which I will shortly produce my first polished illustration, I thought I'd post a Christmas illustration I recently revised for Buffalo Exchange . The request: "I'd like to show a bunch of buffalo pulling Santa's sleigh, which will be driven by a [Star Wars] stormtrooper . . . all drawn in the approximate style of Ralph Steadman ." I did my best. ...

The topic of this week's illustration falls into my snail series, but pareidolia is not, strictly speaking, a fallacy. It is a psychological phenomenon that I feel underlies much fallacious thought, but also much creative thought. Pareidolia involves the human tendency to perceive a pattern or an organized image in a set of nebulous stimuli. The most common examples involve people seeing Elvis or the Virgin Mary among the shapes that appear on their pancakes or birthmarks, or in images of the surface of the moon. Rorschach inkblot tests make use of pareidolia in attempts to elicit material from the subconscious. Pareidolia can also invoke other senses by causing us to hear voices in radio static or heavy metal songs played backwards. Beneath pareidolia lies the urge to seek patterns and create meaning, to make a confusing and disparate world intelligible. The urge to think associatively--to seek patterns where patterns don't always exist--can be harmful or constructive. We see...

A few years ago a man and his son discovered a black bear prowling outside their home in Two Rivers, Alaska. In that neighborhood, it's common to hear stories of bears smashing cabin windows, drawn by the smell of a candy-bar wrapper. In defense against such invaders, many Alaskans dispose of their garbage assiduously and keep jumbo cans of pepper spray next to their car keys. In this case, the man called 911, and shortly thereafter an Alaska State Trooper pulled into the driveway. The trooper asked a few questions, but on the whole, seemed unreasonably calm about the whole situation. With the citizens at a safe distance, the trooper called out sharply a few times, and the bear came bounding from the bushes, lunged at the trooper, and seized his leg in its paws. Rather than sinking in its teeth, however, the bear simply clung to the leg, trembling a bit. Moments later, it followed the trooper into the patrol car. The trooper's name is Ron Richards, and the bear's name is D...