“What do you want to be, when you grow up?”“A ballerina!”
“Rocket scientist!”“On the national football team!”“An astronaut!”“A veterinarian… y’know, a pet doctor, like my mom.”
It was my turn to answer the question.I was busy doodling Catwoman robbing a diamond in the narrow border of my math notes.
She figured out the combination for the vault by using the odd pattern multiples of nine add up to, like how nine times three is twentyseven, which consists of the number two and seven, and if you add those up it equals nine. No matter what number you multiply nine with this is the case. I felt like such a genius for discovering this mathematical wonder.
Now I just had to come up with a logical plot as to why the bank would A) keep a diamond in its vault, B) why they wouldn’t think to have a more complex security protocol, and C) what Catwoman would do with the diamond once she had stolen it.
“I want to be Batman” I said.
My teacher smiled, and said that I couldn’t be Batman. That he’s not real.“Then I want to be a super hero.”“There is no such thing as super heroes. They only exist in stories. Real people like you and me die when radioactive spiders bite them.”
I thought to myself that she had her heroes mixed up, and that she was stupid and negative for busting my dreams before I even had a chance to fail at realizing them. While looking down at what used to be math notes, the answer dawned on me.“I want to be a cat burglar.”Most of my classmates laughed at the suggestion.“You’ll end up in jail if the police catches you stealing. Also I hear the retirement plan of burglars leave something to be desired.”
“I don’t care. I want to climb on top of buildings and sneak into museums at night.”Not that I knew what ‘retirement plan’ actually meant back then, but even if I had known, I doubt I would have cared. The teacher moved on, and I continued to plan Selina Kyle’s dastardly escape route.
It had been a long day of school. Esben (the astronaut), Morten (his older brother), Frederik (rocket scientist) and I were building a headquarter for our action figures in the woodshop of our afterschool daycare center.
“Did you mean what you said? Do you really want to be a thief?”
“I don’t know. Yeah, I guess. I sorta think it’s too boring to be an office clerk - I mean, what do they even *do*?”
Morten smirked. “Want to have some fun?”
I don’t know how Morten had heard of my career choice, but now that he had, it made perfect sense that he would talk me into realizing it fifteen years ahead of time. He had a strange sense of power over us. Maybe it was his love of mischief combined with his sage wisdom of being two years older than us. His chuckle, maybe? He had this great roar of a laugh, that you’d do anything to be the source of.
I don’t know. But I really wanted to have some fun with him.
I am growing somewhat fond of this shading technique.
Another rescan that did wonders for the linework in my drawing.
After three Illustrator lessons, I’ve made this t-shirt. After a few finishing touches, our assignment is to upload it to threadless next week, and see whether any of our designs will be accepted.
Matthew Bell by Cecilie Harris by Aleksander Samuel (who likes drawing boys as though they have the proportions of giraffes)
I rescanned this picture and it made a world of difference. My scanner still doesn’t have the capacity to capture all of the tiny lines I used to make the shadows, but it certainly helped!
A short story about a girl getting picked up from high school detention by her older brother.
Also a reminder to myself that I need to improve my handwriting.
A quick warm-up doodle of Peter Badenhop, who has the magical ability of looking handsome from every angle you could imagine.
I did a drawing of Hermes in action for Dale Lazarov’s contest about homoerotic deities. There’s a few really cute ones entered already - you should go take a look if you’re into dudes and religion.
I’m probably not the only guy here who enjoyed this photo of Tobias Jenkins, and was disappointed to find out how average he appears in every other picture taken of him.
What a pity.
I rarely use my sketchbook for just screwing around, or, you know, actual sketches. The other day I made an effort to draw without having a goal that particular “session” had to accomplish. It was nice.