A Weekend's Meditation from Uncle Heraclitus

As I step forth, one foot at a time, into the weekend, I offer this humble bit of ink and paper and what all. As Jerry Lee Lewis would probably say, "Think about it, darlin'."

What a Difference a Discombobulation Makes

There's holistic and then there's just holes. I've liked this page from a recent moleskine sketchbook spread. But the elements just didn't seem to warrant a scan as a whole. You got the "cheese" gal, who is sporting the most Dan Clowes-ian mouth I've ever attempted to bestow upon a character.

Then you got this guy above, who seems to be my own personal meditation on decapitation and manifest destiny, if you will.

This arty head, which serves no practical purpose.

And then this guy, I don't even wanna think about too much.

But when you separate these images out and then put 'em back together again, the chemistry seems to coalesce into some kinda sparity as opposed to disparity. I mean, maybe.

Schematics For Today's Man

These guys seem prepared. Or maybe just self-deluded. There's bio mechanics and then there's the rest of us.

Anger! Guilt! Money! Monsters!

These are just a few of what I call the "wondrous compulsions." Witness, and smell the gnosis. Or, as Hasil Adkins put it, "Be that chicken."

Rebirth Yourself

I think about outer-space. Both as a reality, and as a metaphor-like. Sometimes I think about the tv show, Lost in Space, too (or three). When I was a kid, I used to watch it in syndication on Sundays, if I was lucky enough not to have to go to church, that is. "Rebirth yourself," was a phrase I caught from some redneck talking about drug rehabilitation, "You got to rebirth yourself," he said. It can be a fine line between poets of the ages and babbling moe-rons.

The Unabashed Interiority of It All

Frankie Lymon & the Teenagers did a bang up version of "Goody, Goody." Putamadre is a naughty word in Spanish. Carley provided the vocabulary lesson.