Mister Scribbles

The last time you saw this was a painting by someone's mother in a very good movie, no? Put on Nillsen doing "Jump Into The Fire" and it will all come back to you. (Photo from a 1978 National Geographic). Now go get your fuckin' shinebox!

Pikasso Guitar Too Much Man, Let It All Hang Out   https://youtu.be/kRIr1PPz2uM      

Here is the dead on accurate depiction of my ego, id, and superego in action. This is how I make decisions and use my judgement. Pic courtesy of George Herriman, "Krazy Kat". The genius anthro cartoon.

Elzie Crisler Segar explains the creative process.  However, he was very good at it, unlike some talking rabbit artists I could mention.

Paul, Harry, and Jennings Young were these three man crime wave brothers in Missouri.  All of them had done time in "Old Jeff", the Missouri pen home to such alumni as James Earl Ray.  These kids were busy, busy.  Then one day Harry Young and friend kill Mark Noe, city Marshall of Republic, Missouri.  The three brothers flee to Texas for the next two and a half years, establishing a car theft ring of amazing proportion.  But family ties bring them home.  January 2, 1932, Sheriff Marcell Hendrix of Greene County Missouri, receives word that the brothers are at a family farm near Brookline, Missouri.  He puts together a posse of ten officers and one civilian, all carrying only handguns and with little to no reserve ammo. Marcell Hendrix, Sheriff of Green County. The posse assembles in the front yard and yell for the brothers to come out.  Sheriff Hendrix and his deputy, Wylie Mashburn, kick in the back door and get blown away...

In 1982, my wife and I went to a massive Halloween party at a warehouse in Deep Ellum. She was wearing just the cutest outfit, a tuxedo that I had bought her with cat makeup, and skin tight black hose showing off her incredible ass.  Whenever I went out with her in those days I had to keep an eye on the other men in any venue, everyone wanted to fuck this hot little thing and this was not allowed.  I had painted her face white with faux whiskers drawn on with marks o lot.  She was a real piece.  My costume was a camouflage blouse  with a Luftshutz  helmet, Marine dress blue trousers with red stripe, police belt, Iron Cross 2cnd class, riding boots, and binoculars with leather gloves.  We were all jacked on speed and pot and this was the best party I have ever been to, before or since.  We watched this band perform and the guy on the right in the above pic was the lead singer.  I remember that he was "singing" about his girlfriends breat...

Another childhood acquisition I still have.  The Charley Harper illustrations have been with me ever since. Between pictures like this, the war in Vietnam, and the Kennedy assassination in my backyard I grew up cold about the value of life. Very cold. And some billionaire just paid 300 million dollars for a de Koening and a Jackson Pollack. What an idiot. New York Harbor As a line artist myself, OMG! Why go to a marriage counselor?  You were warned. The best word I can think of is "modern". No can match! Is this great or what? Elegance itself. Goodbye, Sir.  Thank you for the pictures.

In 1965, my mother took me to a bookstore on Belt Line Road in Richardson, Texas, and let me pick out any book I wanted.  This is the one I chose.  On the way out of the store, trembling with excitement, I dropped it and damaged the upper corner of the spine.  I am looking at it while I type this.  This was, and is, the most exciting book I have ever read and I fear it put the zap on a young boy's head.  I was already into movies and books about ancient warfare.  Never too young to get fired up about hot armor and cool weapons! Paris and Menelaus square off.  Alice and Martin Provensen.  Alice still lives, and the two will always live thanks to this sort of work.  I used to think of this picture when I was a young Marine Infantryman.  I think of it now as an artist. Achilles and Hector.  I was always bothered by the long blond hair.  But hey, the War was raging and we did not do hippies in Dallas!...

I had this copy, in English, when I was a kid.  I loved it, and thought that then and now that is is a great story.  Vain tigers trying on clothes?  Then chasing each other around a tree until they turn into melted butter?  This book had it all. Art by the immortal Gustaf Tenggren. I forgot how much I loved these drawings, and this story.  Gustaf Tenggren. How well these slippers fit me! Fred Marcellino's illustration for The Story of Babaji. I love this story.  I am sorry that the name has become so twisted.  Renaming it solves the entire problem. Fred Marcellino strikes again.  What a handsome tiger! This is the version I had, Golden Books, by the master artist Gustaf Tenggren. I have his version of the Arabian nights that I was given when I was 8 and am looking at it as I type. Tenggren was responsible for the look of Pinocchio by Walt Disney.  Time to drop all the bullshit about this book and let the kids...