You know, some years ago, the primary motivation for putting this whole operation together was so I’d have some place where I could showcase all of my work — the professional, the personal, and the potentially illegal. In recent months I have failed utterly in this vision, mostly due to a near-total lack of caring. But, as a wise person once said (I think), the opposite of love isn’t hatred, it’s apathy. And I think we can all agree I haven’t been giving Dedleg the love it deserves. Not that it deserved all that much in the first place, that little shit.
Anyway, any child of the Facebook-era will tell you there’s no point in doing anything if you can’t put photos of it up on the Internet to make your friends totes jelly, so really, I don’t know why I spent hours slaving on these movie posters for my buds over at the Silver Screen Society except for the fact that I, 1) am totally down for what those dudes are doing over there, and perhaps more importantly, 2) wanted to prove to myself that I hadn’t completely forgotten how to draw.
So, in case you didn’t see my insignificant tweets announcing these pieces at the time, there’s a good chance you missed them, and in these dark days of sparse artistic output on my end, that’s damn near unforgivable. Last month I churned out this illustration inspired by one the most heralded horror movies / art house softcore pornos of all time, Suspiria.
If you don’t know anything about it, the trailer is a good place to start, and it’s pretty fucking boss. Then again, I usually say that about anything that has a skull in it.
It’s also really helpful in case you ever forget the name of the movie.
I wanted to showcase this one over here on my site also just to provide a bigger detail shot, since down-sizing it doesn’t do justice to the amount of time I wasted half-toning the fucking shit out of this thing.
In case dead chicks in leotards somehow aren’t your thing (weirdo), back in February, I did a piece for Silver Screen’s second birthday which they celebrated in conjunction with the How Did This Get Made podcast. I chose to honor a film close to the great bargain bin that lives inside the Walmart of my heart, 1998’s Godzilla.
There will surely be more where these came from, too, seeing as those ever-talented nerds over at the Silver Screen Society just can’t seem to get enough. Maybe you feel the same way, in which case this formerly prolific illustrator offers you his sincerest apologies while also, you know, kind of not caring about it.
A few months ago, my friend Brandon from back in the day (and I mean way back in the day when I was making crappy websites about dumb anime amongst other embarrassing mistakes of childhood) asked me to contribute to his ongoing revisionist movie poster project, the Silver Screen Society. Each month, they choose a film and select a handful of graphic designers, illustrators and otherwise artsy fartsy types to come up with a piece inspired by the movie. That’s more or less the only rule of this particular Fight Club. In any case, this month they selected a feature quite close to my rotting, festering heart, George Romero and Stephen King’s Creepshow.
Needless to say, my piece won’t make any sense to you whatsoever if you haven’t seen the movie.
And if you haven’t seen it, I’d say that’s a pretty good homework assignment for you to dig into this weekend. The best part is, this is the kind of homework you can do while drinking crisp microbrews with your pals, in fact, that’s the recommended dosage.
The film resides in the great intersection of camp, comic book, and comedy. It’s hyper-stylized, classically creepy in a way that any fan of horror and 80s slop will absolutely love, and full of talented cameos, from Leslie Nielsen and Ted Danson to Stephen King himself. What did I tell you? I hold this one pretty close to the gaping, slime-dripping bone cage that is my chest cavity.
The trailer alone is probably the coolest thing I’ll watch today, come to think of it.
Be sure to check out all the other great pieces over at Silver Screen’s website.
Sunflower tattoo, take two.
I guess the second time’s actually the charm… at least it was for this tattoo design I came up with for a client of mine. For those of you who tuned in a couple weeks ago, you may remember that particular entry into the bottomless abyss of unwanted, unappreciated and unused drawings I hold in my heart. And lo, it is sometimes a heavy load to bear.
Nonetheless, my client was happy with this one, so I can finally move on with my life. And even more importantly than that, I can finally get paid, and invest in some psychedelic flowers of my own, if you know what I mean… Hey, these whacked out drawings don’t come from nowhere, I’ll tell you that much!
Been working on a tattoo design for a client of mine — to be clear, I don’t tattoo, nor do I particularly consider myself an expert when it comes to tattoo design, but I’ve got a bunch of ‘em, and I guess that makes me an authority of some kind in some circles (few that they may be).
Ultimately, my client didn’t go for this one (grumble grumble), but I was a fan of it all the same. I guess I see it as a send off to summer. And I don’t want the little doodle’s feelings to get hurt. Plus, I figured it was too nice of a drawing to let it wilt and wither into the winter of long forgotten art projects. It might not be typical Dedleg fare, but it can’t hurt to break out of your comfort zone once and a while, right? No? Yeah, I understand… getting up from in front of the TV does sound pretty dangerous now that you mention it. I could twist a cankle or something.
Am I breathing napalm? Ah yes. Do my shins and ankles fill like they’re buried in wet cement when I walk? Seems so. Do I feel utterly drained and yet… dare I say it… happy? The only logical deduction here is that I must be skateboarding regularly again.
You know, it’s incredible, but after 12 years I still can’t believe how much getting a shinner hurts.
Time flies when you’re getting the shit kicked out of you by your skateboard, I guess.
Riding the train home from a somewhat merciless session at the recently reopened LES skatepark the other night, a trio of kind of bummy little kids fighting over a bag of Cheetos and half a bottle of water sat down next to me. Typically I hate being near other human beings during my commute, especially so if I’ve just been skating since I tend to stink up my corner of the car like a ballsac on fire, which only reaffirms the average subway rider’s small-minded view that all skateboarders are drunken ruffians who smell like burning ballsacs, but these three little mongrels were actually a relief since they kind of smelled like balls too. However, it didn’t take long, as I feared, for the biggest and boldest amongst them to chirp up, “You skateboard?”
Historically, this has struck me as a very odd question directed towards someone with a very well-worn skateboard in hand. But then I noticed the excessively dapper dingus staring at me kind of hungrily from across the train - gripping his shiny new longboard, no less - and it occurred to me it might not be such a strange question after all. It made me realize, while I definitely stink, in a literal sense, and maybe even a little at skateboarding too, at the very least, I don’t suck, like, in general.
I’m up to my forked-tongue in work this week, gang, so apologies that things have been slow. Here’s a little turd I managed to squeeze into my sketchbook yesterday. Warmed up today by giving it a little bit of that old Photoshop spit shine.
And I’ll be back with more sooner, rather than later. You can count on that. More or less.
God I hate hand lettering. It keeps me up at night.
The truth is, actually, I’ve been sleeping too much. While I have been detained with other responsibilities (like going skateboarding while it’s still light out, and smoking even more marijuana than I was before), methinks I’ve patted myself on the back for long enough. I started freelancing again so I’d have more time to devote to Dedleg, creatively, not to dedicate myself to the effort of developing bedsores, as enticing as that may sound. So fuck it, I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Right after I catch a few Z’s - I’m just really beat is all - but I promise, this is totally the last time.
The time: exactly one week ago, 6:30 pm. Let’s say you meet up with some of the skateboarding blogging elite for a happy hour of epic proportions — assuming your definition of “epic proportions” means “you all talked about dicks and shitting a lot.” And let’s say this happy hour starts to span the length of several hours, and many, many adult beverages are consumed over the course of these several hours. Then let’s say you suddenly wake up, sitting on a curb somewhere in the West Village, and some woman is in the street, yelling at you to wake up because the school bus is coming. Your wallet and phone are gone, and you’re left with a measly $13 bucks in your pocket. Bewildered, you wander off, trying to piece together the ruins of the night before, as a short bus full of kids smarter than you pulls up behind. They know all too well the lesson that you’ve since forgotten: too many juice boxes before bed… never a good thing.
It’s a grisly tale, and don’t let it happen to you. That’s all I’m saying.
Now, there are probably those of you out there who think my considerable talents would be better spent on illustrations and photography rather than word-vomitous reviews of big Hollywood slop. So I decided it was high time I put up a new drawing and, in doing so, likely prove how far that opinion is from the case.
Indeed, I was just as surprised as the rest of you that I had somehow not forgotten how to draw in the past few months, as the time I spent with my fingers wrapped around a pencil grew more sparse with every passing week. I originally started Dedleg, nearly 3 years ago now, as a place that wasn’t necessarily a receptacle for word-vomit, but life-vomit. Conceptually anyway, Dedleg is an online sketchbook / inspiration board of sorts, and it really got me drawing again after years of deliquency. And rather than backslide into the dark ages of my early twenties, when instead of being productive with my free time I just went on murderous chainsaw massacres in Grand Theft Auto, I decided it was past time to take the reigns again and ride the frothing, skeletal work horse that is Dedleg into battle once more, pending identity theft claims and mildly alcoholic tendencies aside. See you on the battlefields of creativity, brothers. Glory awaits us.
Here’s a closer look at the design adorning the front of our Skateboarding Scratch Off T-Shirt. Perhaps you’ll disagree upon scrutinization, but I’m of the opinion that it’s just too damn good not to give it some shine, especially for all the cheapskates out there who wouldn’t otherwise get the opportunity to see it up close and personal.
The Skateboarding Scratch Off Tee, along with the other three shirts in our Summer 2012 collection are up for grabs in the store. Ultimately, it’s probably a much better investment than an actual scratch off ticket. I trust you know what to do. The Internet was made for shopping. Well, and porn. And Nigerian email con jobs. But at the end of the day, it all comes down to you spending your hard earned money, which is really all that matters to me.
I got nothin’. Spent a couple hours trying to salvage a photo that just couldn’t be saved, so I slopped this together. Now I am going to bed. And in a couple hours, I’m going to be mighty upset to leave it.
Posts may be slow for the next couple of weeks. I’m summering and shit, and playing hard means paying hard by working hard. Ya dig?
That said, I do have something big in a very Dedleg way, which is, like, imminent. So really, it comes down to how do you like your Dedleg? Fast and short, or slow and big? And guess what! Ima be real happy to let you find out.
Man, it feels good to be alive and not debilitatingly hungover. Yesterday I endured quite the punishment at the hands of my liver for punishing my liver so badly the night before. Pretty much just spent the entire day shitting and sleeping, it was like being a baby again. So yes, a knife does seem pretty tender by comparison.