ME-      My first book bought just for me was the Giant Golden Book of the Illiad and the Oydyssey illustrated by Alice and Martin Provensen.  It changed, or reinforced, my life.  The image above is of Menelaus about to settle things with Paris.  For sheer imagery of ancient, super-cool warfare nothing could have been better for a young boy who already had a history fixation.     .       I have always carried this image with me.  No other artwork, artifact or story has ever conveyed concentration on the job at hand as well as this does.  Now that I do a search comma the  above picture is of Paris.  No matter.  I got the idea at a young age.      Mom and Dad gave me an acoustic git-tar today.  It has electric strings but that will be fixed as soon as I get home to Austin.  Drawing of a neurotic, sexy, dangerous rabbit tuning an instrument on a ...

     Cold here on the coast.  Lots of retirees, one is advised to drive carefully.  Ambluatory fuckin' graveyard I mumbled as I tried to get around old women waiting for that parking space 10 feet closer to the store.  Very crowded as I went to get 88 cents worth of instant coffee.  Christmas music everywhere.  I was listening to that rock genius, Herman the German.  Real loud, of course.  Sunny but cold for Texas, about 55 degrees.       I just posted a mild diatribe on Inkbunny concerning the amount of sexualized children, called "cubs", that are up on that site.  Probably most if not all of the artists would never dream of harming a child.  But there sure is a lot of it there.  I am all for kinky, but it must be completely ethical and fairly legal.      Here is some Chrismas Bacon:      Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Cruxifi...

     I nearly always stop at La Bahia on the way to Rockport.  Today was no exception.  It was sunny and fairly warm.  Here are some views from the front of the Mission.      Northwest corner.  The chapel.  People get married in here all the time.      The parking lot.  That's my Rav 4 in the middle.  The hood latch broke 10 minutes later at eighty miles an hour and it looks like a big silver leaf now.  Christ, I could'a lost the windshield.  Oh, and that is General Zaragosa's birthplace in the background.        Southwest.  The land is exactly the way it looked when Santa Anna's army was encamped on it.  The trees are different but the contours the same.  That is a statue of General Zaragosa on the rise.      West by northwest.  That is the old Camino Real, now paved.  The San Antonio river is on...

     Here I am rockin' out while waiting for laundry in Bastrop.  Slim Rhodes is playing, and I am being a public nuisance.  This is how I wait for clothes to finish cycling.  I never pay to dry them, unless I am wearing emergency (end of the basket) trousers.  They are size 34 and do no justice to my slim hips and arrogant bearing.      Greg is pissed off because he A). does not like Bastrop and B). does not like me.  One of my readers asked about him and because I told her I will tell you.  Greg was a tough, handsome stud who was cruel to animals.  About 1984, in Fort Worth, he tried to poke a kitten out from under a chair so he could shoot it, and yes, he had been drinking.  He used the butt of a 10 gauge side by side to do so, his great-grandfather's, but it was well-worn and the lock slipped and blew his head off.       He is now a sub-demon and cannot move on unless he comes up ...

     While drinking much coffee at Starbucks, my friend Katherine received a a call from one of the gang.  He wanted us to meet him at Opa's, a coffee place down Lamar a ways.  It is next to Bead It, a bead shop I look into to see if I can find useful bling for my belt projects.  I did not want to go but after Kate told me to about four times and promised to buy me a coffee I went.      I am glad I did.  Opa's is a great place with lots of atmosphere and a place to smoke outside, unlike Starbucks where we are not allowed to smoke but do anyway.  We met Bryan and congratulated him on his recent birthday.  He is a hell of a smart and nice person and it is an honor to know him.  While everyone was gossiping away I started a picture of me sitting under the oak tree drinking coffee.  The above is the first attempt, soon abandoned.  Into the recycle bin it goes.      Next...

     So this little dog I found, a Shih-Tzu, was an adorable, happy little thing that moved into my house and my life like she had been there always.  She nosed the cats, ate what I fed her, and slept next to me for three nights.  Monday I took her to check and see if she had been chipped.  I was certain that such a valuable and good little dog had a microchip implant.      She did not.      I was able to place her at a no-kill shelter where the pretty girl at the desk assured me that such a dog would be adopted as soon as they put her up for it, which would be the 30th.  The male attendant placed a leash on her and started to lead her into the room where a hundred unseen dogs were barking.  I stopped them and petted her one last time.      "Good bye, Mopsie"  I said to her.  She wagged her tail as she was led away.      I was back in the car ...

     I lifted this drawing from Graffo whilst he was occupied elsewhere.  Such  subtlety.   steve @_livingdog - Instagram

\      Very cold last night, and the wind started ripping my canvas off the top of the trailer.  I was out in shirtsleeves tying it and I knew I would get sick.  I did.  Speed was of the essence as I only had a little time before I had ripped tarp all over the river bottoms.      I am sick, and this is about as interested in this drawing as I am going to get.  I put myself to sleep last night reading De Quincey's essay on murder.  Good stuff.  I stayed in my shed til late, listening to 101.1 Sun Radio, Austin's best station for Outlaw country, Rockabilly and sundry others.  My guitar work is sounding smoother, if not good.      I was buried under cats this morning.      The answer to the title, is, of course, obvious! 

     Lion by my brother.  I think he is good enough that I may quit posting these, I don't need my readers realizing what a trained professional can do with things like "ink" and "realism".

      I guess I am not the first guy to think about drawing athletic, violent, stuck-up bunnies with a civic conscience.  I found this on Cartoon Brew and it is something else. Weird, self-righteous, racist, dead wrong about what pushovers those Japs were gonna be and strange on every other level.  Outstanding anthro bunny!      Everybody's favorite psychotic gay rabbit.  Well, that was easy.  Now we gotta win the peace! Eh,...Whats up, Doug?  

     Jango was missing for two days.  He has suffered a recent injury, and I yelled myself hoarse in the bottom pasture looking for him.  I sound like Bubbles from the Trailer Park Boys.  Last night after returning from the weekly Farkle game, Jango came tumbling out of the cubby underneath the sink.  I sat up with him for quite a while, and I felt so bad.  He is 13 and his full name is Jango SillyCat.  He is the sweetest and most retiring of my kitties.  He was much better this morning and ate some fresh tuna.      Today I was going to post a continuation of the personalities of the Spanish Civil War, but I was overcome with revulsion about the whole thing.  As much as I sympathize with the Republic, no group in modern memory ever did so much to sabotage their own cause.  Sending the gold reserves to that scumbag Stalin was an act of insanity.  The Tereul offensive, the Brunete disaster, ...

...          Here is a sketch for a work called "May 3" by my brother, Graffo.  Check him out on Facebook.   steve @_livingdog - Instagram

     "Oscar", I said, "Was Greg in here this morning"?        He looked around, embarrassed.  He sorta coughed, sighed, and said, "Why, no, Billy, I haven't seen him today".      I held a necklace against the light.  Lying bastard, I thought.  Oh well, this is the best place in town.  He is bound by some sort of ethics.  Never mind I saw the familiar truck pull out of Oscar's with two people in it, I'll deal with my erstwhile friend later.  I admired the gleam of the gold and enamel against my shining red fur.  Lovely.      "Here you go,"  I said.  "I'll take it".       Bunnies love shiny things.  And the world loves a handsome Rabbit!      I can write fiction, I just don't want to.  I finished "Parson's Pleasure" by Roald Dahl this morning, and 35 years on it is still the most cold-blooded story I have ever ...

       Farkle is a fast moving game similar to poker played with dice.  I played last night with my friends Ed and  Stork.  Stork used to be a member of Retarted Elf, a dancer, and Ed is Collings Guitars top finish man.  They are great guys but cutthroat at games.  I walked out with 10 bucks after losing all day.  Both these guys listen to the best music.        Farkle related violence is on the rise!

          The turn of the century Gang Wars on the Colorado river!  Featuring the Goofers, the Why-ohs, the Five Pointers, the Plug Uglies, the Car Barn gang, the Peep-o-the-Day Boys, Mose, the Dusters, and, of course, the Dead Rabbits!      Stand by for history at it's very Furriest!

  Just Fucking Awesome.      This is an Orb spider that has taken up residence outside my slide-out window.  This one has the remains of the male stuck to it's back.  These things are so lovely and so sinister.  Spiders are my allies.

     Saturday night I got Jacked Up and went a-venturing into the pasture.  I grabbed a pair of combat shorts and, with my kriss and old Colt, went looking for trouble.  There, of course, was none.  I was just practicing moving through the tangle like the predator I used to be.  Knowing it was safe made it all that much more fun.  I got as far as the river without tangling ass with anything, so, thoroughly pleased with myself, went home and got dressed.  (The rain started as I was quartering the area, adding to the thrill).      Gonna run through the jungle!

     My shed, with unfinished carport roof.  With no roof I can see the stars better so it works for me.        Kuato.  He showed up one July 5th skinny and loud.  He used to claw at me if I did not put his food dish down fast enough.  He is now fat and very greedy for the pettings.      This is my shed, with Spiculus gazing lugubriously back at us.  I started this almost a year ago.      Thomas Jonathan Jackson, Jr.  He burst from cover and came at me from my right flank, my first night on the property, August 2006.  I was reading about Chancellorsville.  He had no skin on his back leg.  Fish and milk fixed him up.      Daytime book nook.  With a breeze it is very pleasant.  Without one it is just nice.      My stage and shed.      ...