Yesterday on my various social networking sites (as I’m sure everyone is painfully aware) I blogged about being in a new gallery, and deciding to experiment a bit with one of my pieces.

I decided, since I had a few old frames left over from another project, that the best thing to do would be to destroy the ever-loving hell out of one of them. Story of my life…

Ultimately, I chose to work over a frame based on a piece of art I did this spring called “Infection”, which looks something like this:

infection

Instead of just a standard frame, I decided to try and have fun with it.  To that end, I took one of those old frames and beat the crap out of it.

Now, that actually is simplifying the process just a bit.  But I did get to use the phrase “beat the crap out of it”, so I still consider that a win.

I sanded a few choice spots on the frame, somewhat randomly.  They are in a rough path from the top of the frame to the bottom, but not a line per se.  After a little sanding, I took my Dremel tool and, using various tips, “ate away” at the frame.

After getting rid of the sawdust, I added a few colors of ink and (heavily) watered down acrylics to the raw wood areas, giving it, frankly, an awful, infected look.  Which, unlike waking up Saturday morning after a night of drinking, is what I actually wanted.

I then took a black mat and tore the top black layers up a bit. I used a scratchboard tool that is, more or less, a bunch of random sharp wires, and roughed up the mat in spots to match the frame. Again, I added ink and acrylic.

I did also fool around with the Dremel and the glass, and I think with some practice it could work, but it was becoming a bit too “obvious” so I abandoned that. Maybe with the proper tools, or an acid on the glass, the effect might work better.

So here, below, is the final product.  I took a few pictures from different angles, and as always let me know what you think. I’m trying to decide what the best price to sell something like this would be too, especially since it’s a “one of a kind” piece.

infection frame 1

infection frame 2

infection frame 4

infection frame 3

I like seeing how art evolves, from the beginning of the thumbnail sketches all the way through the final product. I think you can literally see an artist’s though processes as they work through issues, try new things, and complete what their vision is.

In my case, it might be more like watching chaos unfold in front of you.

I created a video/slideshow of my cover art for author Brian Keene‘s novella Scratch, which was recently released by Cemetery Dance Publications. It hopefully shows the genesis from the initial thumbnail sketch through the final product, and as always let me know what you think.

I never just charge into a piece for the sake of doing art, I always let it mull around in my head some first. Sometimes I have a pretty good idea and I just need to smooth things out. Other times, there’s a lot of thought in what the scene portrays, who’s in it, what’s their motivation, did they just do something or are they about to, so on and so on. If you don’t think about the overall work ahead of time, you’ll end up with a mess.

I tend to think of everything in a scene as being it’s own layer. It will have it’s own world to live in, it’s own feel. In turn, it will get other textures and influences from other layers, and in turn influence those other layers. Before too long, everything is interacting with everything else, and you have a scene.

But that’s part of my nature too. When I’m thinking about something, I see it in my head in three dimensions. Something that doing sculpture long ago helped me with was seeing things in my head that way, and now I spin them in all different directions until I find the right image to work with.

I’ve seen quite a few bad covers lately where the artist is obviously only thinking in a flat, boring way. They get some idea for a character, and in their head that character and all of the surroundings live at one level. So when they do the artwork, that’s how they think. Everything ends up flat, with no fading, no differences in contrast or color, and no indication that what’s they’ve created is it’s own world.

I think that’s important as an artist, especially as an illustrator. No matter what your style is, be it a realistic style or something more abstract, you are still pulling the viewer into your world, and they have to buy it. If they see it as a flat piece of art, they won’t be moved to explore your world, and, if it’s the cover, you as the cover artist didn’t do a good job of selling the work.

The cover I just finished (more or less, there are a few tiny tweaks) started out as more of a flat piece. So I started spinning it my head, changing angles and perspectives, and there’s this subtle voice in my head that keeps saying “nope. nope. not that one. nope.” Until it clicks, then I start whittling it down to the real image. Then when I get it set in my head, I ask myself how I can make it better, more dramatic, and more interesting.

Usually that leads to me picking the absolute hardest thing I can think of doing. Which sometimes frustrates me, but hopefully afterward makes me a better artist. The best example of that is “In the Wrong World” based on a Peter Straub story I did for Cemetery Dance last year:

In the Wrong World

I spun that around in my head until I thought it would look cool, then I remembered that it’s a really difficult perspective to pull off. Way high, at an angle to everything. On top of that, I completely changed my working style from doing everything in layers and textures to doing everything as a painting. Everything has a stroke, either direct paint or a smudge stroke with a paint brush tip (save for the photo on the wall and the texture on the mirror).

Both changing my style and my working techniques, as well as such a rough perspective, was almost idiotic to try and pull off all at once. But I went for it and, despite a few flaws here and there, I think the emotion of the piece speaks for itself. Several have told me that it’s my best piece (I don’t think I have a “best piece”, only decently done parts of pieces), so I might be on the right track with it.

Overall, I think all artists, in fact nearly every piece on the earth, has some kind of flaw, even if it’s so tiny only they ever know it’s there. The trick with really good art is that those flaws don’t detract from the work itself, and often even enhance it. Artists sometimes just want to create art, but that’s not how I approach it. I want to move someone to some emotion, to ask questions of themselves and of the work, and hopefully give them reason to think about the image for a long time after.

Since January of 2010, Jason Sizemore and MG Ellington over at Apex Magazine have given me the opportunity to talk on their blog each month about art, and how I create it.  Now, so far, it’s been mostly rants about the things I see wrong with art and with the various genres I’m a part of.

I thought I would sum them up as they are so far, as I’ve done quite a few now.  Please make sure you visit Apex Magazine and support the small press, and leave lots of comments for discussion over there.

Here they are, in order, once a month starting in January:

My God, What a Stupid Looking Cover

WTF? Really? You can’t just tell me who the artist is?

Sure you can steal from me! Art? Sure! First born? Why not?

Why the hell would I help you? You’ll steal all my ideas!

Here at the end of all things

Life, liberty, and the pursuit of—Hey! Why aren’t you mowing the lawn?

Practice is for losers

Yes, I can do that same piece of art over and over and over and…

Now, fair warning, the image I’m about to present is of a scene in author Brian Keene‘s recently released novella Scratch, and may contain a bit of a spoiler.

When I go to make a print of something to sell, I tend to revisit what the piece looks like.  If it’s a color piece, I usually just make sure it will print correctly and move on.  In the case of grayscale art, often I’ll look at it and see if I can enhance it with color.

Most of the time, I’ll give a grayscale piece a “duotone” effect if I think it will make it better.  Not always, but just when I think the piece will be better off with a touch of color than just the black, gray and white colors by themselves.

I only very rarely make a grayscale piece a full color work, as I approach full color work in a different way (mostly in my head). The image below, from author Brian Keene‘s recently released novella Scratch, has had a couple of additional colors added, but not the full range of colors, and I think it adds a little something to the mix.

Here’s what the initial image looks like, and in fact it’s how it was printed:

Though the image itself (called “nasty” by friend and fellow artist Kirk Alberts) is a bit of a shock, there’s also some subtlety involved.  In fact, I’ve had to point out the leg and foot in the snake’s mouth to several people.

So, in Photoshop, I duplicated this layer and, using the “Hue/Saturation” adjustment (you can do this a number of different ways), I added a sepia tone to it:

It’s actually not bad at this point, and in fact on many pieces I’ve stopped here and printed it.  But, being big into experimentation, I thought I’d try a magenta version as well.  So, duplicate the layer again and repeat:

Now, this version is.. shall we say… “girly”.

That magenta is way too strong, but if we work with the sepia and the magenta using masks and layer blending modes, we can turn it into the final piece:

By manipulating it in Photoshop, with really only a couple of colors (and black of course), we have a piece that feels far more aggressive than the grayscale one did.  This one (I think anyway) gives you a false sense that there’s really more gore here than is depicted, and strikes home the horror of the moment.

I could spend the time to color every part, to really make each individual part into a color work.  But for me, this might actually be stronger. The viewer’s mind starts filling in the gaps of color, making them often see what’s not really there.

It’s no more bloody or gory than the grayscale version, but it has a certain impact that the grayscale does not.

Opinions?

I’ve been very anxious to show everyone this, and now, upon the release of the novella, I can do just that. Below I’ve attached a number of pieces of art that I did for author Brian Keene’s book Scratch, just released from Cemetery Dance Publications.

Scratch, if you don’t follow Keene’s work (and his followers are Legion), is the story of a giant snake. One that gives our characters quite a bad time.

I have to say, working on such an in-depth and extensive project was a daunting idea at first. But working with an author like Brian, who is so open to ideas and so helpful with the ones I came up with, was just fantastic. All the fine folks at Cemetery Dance are very supportive and wonderful to work with as well, and overall this was a great experience.

Now, the art itself is spread quite thoroughly throughout the book, and while the esteemed Mr. Keene doesn’t think that the art alone gives away the story, it’s certainly a possibility.

So, fair warning. The art is chock full of spoilers.

One more time, for those Keene fans (and others) who haven’t read it:

SPOILERS!!!!

If you’d just like to see what the art looks like, please enjoy the full gallery below. Every image in Scratch is there, please let me know what you think.

If, however, you’d like a bit more “meat” with it, follow along below this (and to the next page) for comments on how I created the art, thoughts on it, and so forth.  REALLY spoiled then, and I mean it.

After this, there’s no going back, because the rest below contains

SO MANY SPOILERS!!! NOT KIDDING!!!

Without further ado, follow along to the next page for my insights.

Read the rest of the entry »

I’ve been a part of a local gallery for several months now, and it’s been a great experience.  Having been an illustrator for so many years, it’s been interesting to explore the prints and fine art side of things.

Luckily, the On Display Gallery in Fort Collins, Colorado (just up the road from home) specializes in alternative art. I definitely fit in there, and I’ve had a number of good comments from people in the gallery (and a handful of sales).  It’s been a great learning experience, and I’m happy to be in a good place with good people.

As I mentioned before, it’s not necessarily easy for me, as an illustrator, to pick art that someone wants to post in their home. A cover work has a unique feel and point to it, as does interior art, and art for your wall is no different.  There’s a certain feel to a piece that has to work correctly for someone to put it on their wall.

We’ll see how my continued gallery art goes, but so far so good.  Below are the pieces I currently have in the gallery, and there are also postcards and bookmarks of mine there. There is one that I have in the gallery that does not appear below.

If you are in the Fort Collins/Northern Colorado area, or will be through on a trip, go check them out and let me know what you think.

Sometimes, I shudder to post new ideas or new techniques that I try. I never know if they really work out, if they are ok but just need work, or if they are so awful that the sun will shrivel up and we’ll all die.

But, I also think that as an artist I always need to push ahead, to grow and to get better at what I do.  Posting the results on my website, while giving the distinct possibility that some new editor or fan might run away screaming, also forces me to learn and to adapt much more quickly.  I can’t hide behind the flaws, they are there for the whole world to see.

I’ve also, over the years, read plenty from other artists (on the web, in magazines and books, and so on). Those I’ve learned the most from are the artists who are willing to put their art out for the world to see, warts and all.  You can see their progress from piece to piece, and see how they developed as an artist.

You also see that they are human.  Often, when I see the final art by another artist, I tend to skip the part where they had to learn their techniques.  I see the final product, but when I get to read about their techniques, their process, and especially where they’ve had to learn from a mistake I learn so much more from them.

In that spirit, below is my very first acrylic piece. Usually I’m a digital artist (for many reasons), but I always like trying different media and techniques.  Now that I have a real office/studio, I have the physical space to try things out.

Here, finally, is my very first acrylic piece. I call it, The Thing That Crawled. No giggling allowed.  Though, I guess I wouldn’t hear it anyway.

Or would I….

The Thing That Crawled

Ok, the title to this may be a little deceiving, as I’m not completely ignorant when it comes to putting art in the local gallery (the On Display Gallery, Fort Collins, Colorado– find them on my Facebook profile). But I struggle with the types of art that gallery viewers would appreciate versus the illustration side.

To be blunt, I’m not a fine artist, I’m an illustrator. So I approach art from the story side of things, and in fact (as is evident from my art blogs) my favorite pieces by other artists have a sense of story behind them. So I’m never sure how the general public, in a gallery environment, is going to react.

Along with that, and quite possibly my worst issue, is pricing. I have a decent idea of the prices I charge as an illustrator, and based on feedback from publishers I seem to be priced ok. But I just never know what to price prints, matted, or framed works.

Do I price it based on what I paid for the materials?

Do I price it based on the market (without really knowing the market)?

Do I price it based on other works in that same gallery or online?

Frankly, the answer is yes to all of that. Which, understandably, is where the confusion lies.

Being a person that’s evenly split between technical and creative endeavors, I of course have spreadsheets and such that tell me what the prints and pieces cost me to make, how it breaks down over number of prints, how much I’ve made on certain ones so far (not quitting the day job just yet).

But that only helps to an extent. There’s also the value in what was created, that what the person is buying is something that came uniquely from my own goofy brain, and no one else’s. That puts a certain unique value on it as well, that they are getting, really, something that only I can give them. So I get input from others, make notes from other artists online, and generally try to price reasonably.

But then I have to actually pick which works to sell.

That’s the hardest part of all. I’ve noticed many times that, when I put my portfolio out there, not a single person picks the same piece of art as the next. In some ways that makes sense, I have a couple of different styles. But aside from that, everyone has a completely different favorite, and that makes it difficult to pick only a few out of all of them to try and sell.

There are a few at the gallery now that I’ll be replacing. One of them is still unpublished (crossed fingers, I’d love to show everyone that one), and the other two are here in the galleries (“In the Wrong World” in the grayscale art, and “Mama Ain’t Happy” in the color art).

We’ll see how they go, and if anything at least I have quite a lot of work to swap out for them.

Unless one of you two would like to buy them…

Mama Aint Happy

I gave the title for this blog first, but it’s only true in certain circumstances (for me, anyway).  I’ve been a creative person (be it writing, art, photography, etc.) for my whole life, but I’ve also had the ability to work with the more technical nature of the world as well. It’s a split in the brain (not literally, though sometimes the headaches feel like it) that can sometimes lead to interesting things, but often leads to chaos.

I try to ignore my technical leanings, as often I am chained by them. Much of the time, I’m seen as the “tech guy” or the “programmer”, when in reality I’d much rather my artistic talents be noticed (luckily, today they have been a bunch). My seemingly abrupt change in direction (coming soon!) will shock some, however it’s only design/art that I want to do from now on.

But, occasionally, the tech side comes in handy. Case in point: earlier I was discussing QR Codes with the owner of the best coffee shop there is (go here, you can even buy their coffee online). Technology that I came across awhile back, and implemented on my business cards last month.

QR codes are images, much like bar codes on most things you buy in a store, that can contain information.  Not just a number like many codes you see around, but lots of information.  QR codes can handle thousands of characters, or, if you want it simple, just a website link.

Here’s mine:

QR Code for darkstormcreative.com

My QR code leads back to my website when you use a smartphone.  Here’s how it works:

1. If you have a smartphone with a camera, like an iPhone or an Android phone, you can download (often free) software for QR codes, usually just called a “QR reader”.
2. Once that’s installed on your phone, take a picture of the image above with that QR reader software.
3. The software will (or should) automatically send your phone’s web browser to my website.  That, in fact, may not help you if you are already reading this.

Right now, I have that code on my business cards so that people with a smartphone can go right to my website. But it could easily be full contact information like address, phone, and email.  It could be a short bio with a link back to the site.  It could be a treatise on modern warfare and it’s lack of Pixy Sticks and gum. It’s up to whomever creates it. My friend uses it on sales labels at a gallery.

You’re starting to see these codes now in magazines, on billboards, even on products.  As a creator, there’s no reason not to put it on some things and push my website. It’s quick and easy, you can just go to qrcode.kaywa.com and generate your own. Then just put it on your website, your marketing materials, or whatever need you have.

If anything, it’s been a great conversation piece.  Either people whip out their smartphones to give it shot, or they start a discussion on the rest of the card and my art, or even technology.  That’s what the business card is for in the first place, to generate interest, and something like this can be a great way to get into the minds of those you want to impress.

Feel free to use mine and pass it on, and all of you (maybe “both of you” is more accurate) should go give it a try.

Opinions?