Found this pic of a series of banners I designed to promote my horror/sci-fi con Monsters and Robots. I banged out eight of these in one afternoon with the help of the mighty David Smith cleaning up my concepts and color choices.
What was originally a news site about all things monsters and robots and their respective genres, morphed into a convention in 2016. For a new show, it had its marketing challenges, but the fans loved it and the vendors did well. But my Lyme disease came back around that time, so I shelved Monsters and Robots until 2018. More news about that soon.
I’ve been working on the East Coast Comicon for over a year — it’s the biggest event to date that I’ve ever run; 300 exhibitor booths, 10,000 attendees, 80 guest artists, a dinner Saturday night, guests flying in from all over the country and the U.K. So I’ve had my hands full — no complaints or excuses, but I just haven’t had much time to sit and draw. Really draw. I did a new cover for Rat Bastard #2, and I’ll post that here eventually, but I really haven’t been able to draw like I used to. So when I did try to draw, it was painful. No, really. Not physically, but it was agony trying to find the time, and then trying to crank something out. It’s not like turning on a faucet and the art just flows. It’s more like going back to the gym after being away for six months. It took me two weeks to come up with piece and get the likenesses down. It will be used for a poster with many other pop culture characters dressed as other pop culture characters. Hopefully I can continue now that I’ve cleaned all my encrusted Rapidographs and sharpened all my pencils.
Margret Atwood’s Oryx and Crake is a sad and imaginative near-future sci-fi about the downfall of humanity and those who bring it about. I love stories where the reader goes in completely blind, and gradually more and more is revealed until an entirely unpredictable turn of events leads to the scene of page one. The story is narrated by someone name Snowman, a pathetic lone human survivor of a manmadeÂ apocalypse. He shares what’s left of the world with the Â strange humanoid creatures he calls “crakers” who were somehow created by his once friend Crake. Snowman recalls the events that lead to the downfall of humanity during his years of personal development as a teenager in the age of global warming.Â Atwood’s real strength is creating a range of totally believable characters. Good stuff.
Here’s a little illustration I did for a story I’m writing. Painted entirely in Photoshop. Not even a sketch on paper. No paints to clean or mix, no brushes, canvas, clean. Technology ain’t so bad.
Ten year old Cliff Galbraith in front of the United Nations building in NYC, after parade for Apollo 11 Astronauts in 1969
While he had many interests including cartoons, pro sports, art, rock music and comic books, this guy loved anything to do with space travel. Astronauts, space ships, science fiction or fact. It didn’t matter whether it was Neil Armstong on the moon or Charlton Heston on the Planet of the Apes. He read everything from Issac Asimov to Arthur C. Clarke to H.G. Wells. He was drawn to TV shows like The Outer Limits, Lost in Space, Star Trek, Space Angel, Astro Boy, Fireball XL-5, The Invaders, et al.
But the Apollo astronauts were his greatest passion. He’d cut out their pictures from newspapers and magazines and hang them on his bedroom walls. He’d draw them and their space crafts, and make little comic books of their journeys.
From time to time, I’d wonder what this little guy would say if he could meet the adult version of himself. What would be his reaction to the notion that he would one day be able to create animation or edit written stories on a personal computer? I think he’d ask me why I ever stopped drawing space ships, and when was I going start again?
This picture was taken by my mom, who took me to see my heroes in late summer 1969. She also taught me how to draw, and introduced me to Picasso, Dali, and Ruebens. Thanks Mom.
I think this could’ve been a pretty good short story: A new, underground artform called “locative art” uses a network of GPS technology as its method of display. Former lead singer of the band “The Curfew” Hollis Henry is hired by a new “Wired” type magazine to write an article on the new artform and hunt down the secretive hacker who makes it all possible. There’s Cuban agents, CIA, and a billionaire involved in the search. But it drags on. Gibson loves describing everything — even things he’s alread described. A coat is no long a coat, it is Paul Smith coat, and it’s the Paul Smith brand coat every time the coat is put on or taken off. Jeesh. If not for the former rocker angle, I would’ve put it down after the first 75 pages.