Little Red Riding Baaa Baa sheep! She’s a lost little lamb off to grandma’s house down the road in the woods. Her basket has goodies for grandma. Hopefully a wolf isn’t waiting for her wanting lamb chops for dinner.
I thought about it. To me animals were animals. I was never a huge fan of the cartoon animals, but I thought I would give the good ole college try. This was college after all.
I need to scan the rest of the assignments. I haven’t done them in order, I realized. And one of the sequential art pages actually was from a story, and I don’t know who the author was. So I need to blank out the words. I’m also considering moving this theme into ComicPress as eventually, there will be sequential art pages. (Sequential art, how highfalutin! Nay, I say, Nay, forsooth there will be comic pages.) Just a warning that this is still a work in progress. I haven’t started hitting the promotion circuit yet until I get the hang of this.
As for the comicbook class at the community college, I got some nice portfolio pieces out of this class. I wish I could have taken it currently with Tedd Walley. Not that the original instructor was bad or not nice, I needed someone who not only challenged, but knew the business.
I was clueless at the time about the business aspect, which was why I shoved the art on a back burner.
Oh, I went on job interviews, schlepping the portfolio with me. I got a few art related work-for-hire retail jobs; drawing cute images on baskets (Wicker freaking baskets) and pillow cases. But those jobs are few and pennies compared to freelancing gigs. I could have used those business skills and that’s what I hope to tell here; the trips and falls I made along the way.
I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just picked a bit from one of the many stories in my head. Again my lettering is far from good, but readable.
In this class, the student had to create the script, the penciling, inking, and lettering. That’s quite a lot for a newbie to be doing.
In High School, my art teacher insisted I enter a piece in the high school art contest. I was shocked when I came in second. After the event we put on a gallery of all the pieces.
I, alas, do not have a copy of the piece which won second. I sold it, and I was happy to be rid of it. It was a still life that I had learned to hate. There was a wicker chair, a trumpet, a plant — I could swear was growing while we were drawing it, and an assortment of other oddities on a folded canvas drape. I drew that in pencil. Then I was told to go to crayon, so there would be no hope of continuously erasing mistakes and second guessing. The high school didn’t have the best equipment and I got stuck with a dried up crayon to do the piece.
For the gallery, all the art students who entered were docents. I pulled my stool over by my piece. I was curious, as another student had a work close to mine, which I thought was far superior. However mine had a nice ribbon on it. There’s did not.
People came in and people ooh’ed over mine. I watched them see the ribbon and change their opinion, deride the one beside it. One person even told me how mine was so superior to the other. I looked at them blankly, and told them mine was marginal. They said I shouldn’t say bad things about someone’s art. I said, “I can say what I want. It’s mine.”
But the most bizarre situation was when someone decided they were going to talk about my piece. They went on and on about how the light touch with the crayon reflected from the artist the existentialism of life.
I just was astounded.
The reason the color was light was because I couldn’t get the darn crayon to make a darker mark!