I drew my little monkeys on the train ride to MassArt the other night, and feel like I'm finally able to draw Mr. Giles from memory and have it really look like him. Frank and Giles have similar markings, but really different eyes and expressions and personalities. Mr. Giles had a tough month with emergency surgery and a couple weeks of convalescence, right around his birthday, too...the vet gave us a whole test tube of large, calcium-based stones he removed from Giles' bladder. But this 9-year-old Hurricane Katrina refugee dog is one tough cookie. The staples are out and he's running around and acting like his crazy old self again.
Last year Devilicia and I went to see a friend give a poetry reading, and he was really good. Sitting there silently listening to some of the other readers was excruciatingly painful though. Instead of jumping up and screaming and running out of the claustrophobic room, I tried to tune everything out and just drew tiny pictures on a receipt Devilicia slipped me:

Mr. Giles's favorite outdoor activity is spinning in endless circles on his heiny, staring at the sky, before flopping over on his side and rolling in the dirt til he's totally brown and gray:



I did the above picture in my sketchbook as a demo for my Black & White Illustration class. We were talking about making pictures with the eyedropper tool, white gouache, and blotting with cheap paper towels. I'd been thinking about the Autumn day Devilicia shot photos of me with Frankensteiny and Mr. Giles back in Rhode Island:

Autumn 2008 was too short and Winter 2008-2009 has already gone on way too long.

I forgot to post this 8" x 10" commission I painted of Garrett Platanitis's Frenchie, Ava, a little while ago. Here are 2 earlier sketches with Photoshop grays added:


Thanks, Garrett!

I just finished a memorial portrait for my friend Adriane, who lost her adopted Pug, Junebug, in August 2008 after a vet misdiagnosed her health problems. Adriane and Junebug only got to share 2 months together. You can learn more about Junebug here. Rest in peace, Junebug.