Twenty Two: HIATUS

Today, I will be leaving the confines of my humble Davis abode and setting sail on the open seas (sans laptop). And I am finding it extremely difficult to sleep due to a bad case of ridiculous excitement. Yes, that's a serious medical condition. Anyway, I'll be unable to update so I must leave you all with this final page. Hopefully it's a good one. I don't know, I haven't pressed the "Insert Image" button yet. Let's find out.

Ahh yes, the lovely notice from our favorite "Concerned Shannon Ranch homeowner". Don't be a victim to the leeches of society, guys. Keep your lawn ornaments safe and un-humped. And have a lovely week!

Twenty One: Hellaphant

Twenty: Jaba el Presidente

The extent of the work I did in stats junior year.

Nineteen: Pencilly

A picture of a drawing based on a picture of a person...that person being me.
..when I was 17.
..wearing Lauren's hat.
..and Blublockers.
..and a smirky expression.

..mostly I just like the glasses.

Eighteen: Amor del Grupo

It's a specially-made pocket with a picture of a specially-made peace sign full of specially-made people to hold a specially-made comic by a specially-made friend, Eric Rodriguez. We were all given this little jewel as a Christmas gift and it was probably the most thoughtful present I've ever received, so thanks Eric! It really was a can't miss. Now as the pocket goes...that photo was taken in 2006 with the human-body-almost-peace-sign consisting of (correct me if I'm wrong) Charlie, Victor, Chelsea, Dana, Lauren, me and Tamer. We threw on our cold weather attire and went downtown to have dinner at Brewbakers that night and did who knows what else. A lot of time spent exploring downtown streets, alleyways and parking structures back in those days. 

Seventeen: Potter Tradition

 Charlie's two cents: i spent all day there, the hour i use to go home and shower emmer effin picture taken news report, the guy behind us tottaly is a ped or something and me and mad are on his top eight, loren thinks her bum is big in this picture quote unquote, she told me once, my mom probably dropped a hundred dollars or more on candy for all my fwends, i think alot of people were intoxicated or high. BLACK ERIK, wheelchair endurance tests, blublockers, this started a beautiful tradition. eric looks four years old in that picture.left page predated the dreading of dana's head, mads hair is long!! Im pretty sure Mad's Dad thought vicky was actually a paralyzed kid, on the right side what happened oh ya i waited my life away and i still fuhbreekin missed that izzle! that picture is still amazing.uh Sarah lied about her name, they caught it. Shelby cursing people, meagan buble cursing, "lechs cast shum shpells..." spray painted shirts, hot hot hot day, still amazing, me and eric and austin slept in the van over night, 24 hour wait for real!!!. sorry for that structured mess.

Sixteen: Megan's a Hoe

This page has a couple good stories to go along with it. But I am too tired and distracted to explain. Labor day weekend '07 was hilarious and the strangest experience of my life. Iron and Wine concert was incredible and the most wonderful experience of my life. I cried during a heartfelt Trapeze Swinger encore. No joke.

Fifteen: Hump

  It's FRIDAY! You know what that means? I get to go home! Please, contain your excitement.

   Top: The backside of a camel taped to a drawing of the desert and some rolling clouds, both original 

  sketches (by the talented 'chuk' half of madechukPRODUCT) for "Heritage", the cartoon life of Tamer 

  Saleh...before we discovered the wonders of CS3.

   Bottom: Bus on the way to grad night, silhouette of Victor's hair, me refusing to use flash photography.

Oh, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RACHEL PARKS! 

Fourteen: Squiggity Squak

 Thankyou, Lauren for your drawing contribution (safari man with some hairy legs) and for that lovely little acronym (SQUIGGITY SQUAK). It makes oh so much sense :)

Thirteen: Stuff

I miss my little Heathsta.

Twelve: The APES Tree

  a. Guess I wasn't having much fun in APES that day, though I did plant a tree in honor of it. 

  b. My friends make pretty good "AGONY" faces if I do say so myself.

  c. I was trying not to smile. Annnnd I failed. So instead of being a serious crippled war veteran, I am just 

      a helmet-headed creeper in a wheelchair..with a gun. 

  d. I like this page.

Eleven: Still life with Mil-butt

She stopped our whole calculus class for the day to hold that pose for me...true story. I think I really captured the delicate curves and folds of her tantalizing physique.

Ten: Forest Filigree

  I once learned the entire alphabet in that style of ornate letters...and forgot every single one. What a waste of time and lead. That's an "M" by the way, M for Murderer. Just kidding it's for my name. Or is it. Maybe M Means Madison Maliciously Murders Many Morose Manly-Men Mounting Maracas Mistaken for Monotheistic Micro Managers with Mesothelioma. Manifest destiny. 

  The picture up top was taken in Three Rivers with my plastic fisheye (which broke shortly after) on a beautiful almost-summer day with my good friend Charles in Charge. Our original plans for the day got crapped on so we strapped on our water shoes, walked downstream and had a pb&j picnic on a rock. We wandered around for a bit, sat around for a bit, drove around for a bit- all in all, it was a lovely day.

Nine: SAH

This would be the storyboard (part of it) for the Tet's cartoon, which was the longest drawing, photoshopping, complaint-filled movie-making process of anything Charlie and I have ever made together. Except that baby.

p.s. Victor, Celina and I just sang happy birthday to Tamer before he blew out the candles on his little birthday cake and it was beautiful.

p.s. I just spent 7 hours watching people dive in Stockton and Meggers did beautifully.

p.s. Now it's time to celebrate Picnic Day and it will be beautiful.

p.s. I hope you all have a beautiful night.

p.s. By celebrate, I meant take a shower and a nap. Just clarifying.

Eight: Experimentation

The hardest thing about drawing for me is just thinking of what to draw. That is why things like this happen. No central theme, no main point of focus, no sense. Regardless, it makes me happy. Even when it's nonsense. And when you just sit down and draw with no direction, new things sprout up on the page that never would have if you sat down with a solid idea. Like multi-colored olives. And little blobby guys. You know...important things like that. It's late.

Seven: QTs

Stopped by our good friend Chuck E. Cheese's for some pizza and flashbacks. This place that was so huge and magical when we were kids...tiny and weird now. 

Six: Spread 'Em

*Noteworthy- Victor's most oddly shaped foot sunburn of all time, D's amazing ability to make weird faces on camera, Charlie's ridiculous frown/smile, Steven smoking the fat cigar found on the beach by a bocce ball tournament, Eric walking into a pool of algae water because he thought it was solid, playing Scrabble while eating unhealthy amounts of Drumsticks and having intensely serious conversations, fat lady on our bus who looked like Ursula from The Little Mermaid and her son(?) with his furry bucket hat that Lauren and I enjoyed so much, and just an overall sense of LOVE.

Five: Pardon, Shadow?

So since the first few pages of this (or more) are all full of "Going to San Diego" stuff, I think I can spare this post and focus on just the top left corner...my long lost cat. 
   Shadow. Shads. The Shadmeister. Ok so I never actually called him that but thinking back on it, I probably should have. Shadow was the most loyal of all the little furry creatures in the land that was my home, the kinda cat that ran to you every time you snapped your fingers and never pulled that sassy "too good to be pet" bullshit. Anyway, one fateful day my family packed up and moved out of our little outskirts abode and crossed town to los suburbs, Shadow packed quietly into a little cardboard cat carrier in the backseat. Now I'm not exaggerating, THE SECOND we pulled up into our spankin' new driveway, this all-of-a-sudden ravaging, satanic ball of fur somehow acquired the strength of 7,000 pissed-off cats on creatine and literally burst through the side of this cardboard box screaming and sprinted away. Never to be seen again. Though I have a vague suspicion he is still lurking around Marseille causing a ruckus, tearing through people's walls at high speeds no doubt.

Four: Kevin B. Garcia

Oh yes, my friends, this is it. Kevin B. Garcia's business card, taped safely and soundly onto a blue striped background, never to be lost. Just in case we ever find ourselves in a strange foreign city, Suburbanless and needing to get to the nearest bus station, we can always call this guy for a ride. But 50 bucks for a few gallons of gas? Come on, Kevin. Don't take advantage of kids stranded in Glendora freakin' California. And don't be a creep. Good thing you didn't try to pull some shit, wouldn't have expected a few innocent looking young chaps to be armed with brass knuckles and batons would you, Kevin?...didn't think so. Despite your creepiness and wanting to take pictures with us "for your website", we couldn't have made it without ya. I think we should give him a call one of these days...

Three: Life Lessons

Here's a little story about this page.
   So I'm on a Greyhound bus coming from Point B and heading back towards Point A, crammed in tightly next to my friend Dana (who happens to be jamming to TLC on the headphones and drawing "No scrubs" in block letters on Paint), when I decide "HEY! I should fill every page of this with drawings!". So I turn the page enthusiastically, and to my dismay discover, shitty markers bleed. Or shitty paper gets bled through. One of the two. Or both. Anyway, I stare at the paper. Then I crappily draw the tacky pattern on the headrest in front of me. Lesson learned. Thought there would be a good ending to this story? Too bad. Oh- can't ignore the baby photo of me lounging in what looks to be a floral sack with shoulder straps. Or Deezy, me and Victor huddling in the black abyss. Love.

New love

New favorite song of all time..so cute.

Two: Do Work, Son

This little blob of nonsense is something I drew a few years ago, sitting on a beach in Del Mar watching my friends try to paddle a raft into the waves and cursing the sea at the tops of their lungs. That really has no relevance to this drawing at all but the memory's attached quite nicely.

One: BOOK