Monday, January 31, 2011

Sunday, January 23, 2011

One more Series Bible update, now with zesty barbeque dipping sauce


- A headless chicken with the soul of a poet

- Driving goal: to find a new head

- Unbelievably lucky when it comes to surviving; has stupendously bad luck with everything else

- Compelled to write down his thoughts so that others can read about them and maybe connect with what he's going through. These attempts are unfortunately hampered by the fact that he can't write in anything but chickenscratch lines, and can only type (badly) through dumb luck (and because if he couldn't do something, that'd be just way too depressing)

- Is very shy around anyone but Amnio, Riddlyn, and Mister Bitch, as he's got a serious inferiority complex when it comes to being seen by those who still have heads

- Had his head cut off in a factory right when the Apocalypse was going on. He has no feathers except for one left on his tail; for some reason, there are always more feathers scattering off from him when he's stressed/excited (mostly because the artist thinks is funny)

- Doesn't cluck, but does make wet farty neck noises, like so:


He whistles the same way. :D

- He also talks in emoticons, at least in drawings. To translate them from word balloon to actual noise, when you see a happy face, figure he's squirting out as happy-sounding a noise as he can. Same for a sad face; think of a cross between a kazoo and a slide trombone wah-wah noise, if both of them were drowning.

...And I'll leave you to have that tumble around inside your heads for a while. Enjoy!

Sunday, January 16, 2011

ECHO ECHO Echo echo echo.

Another page from the sketchbook this week. The left side's a peek at what's next on the greeting-card docket, and should be familiar to those of you who've been watching the blog for a while. (Anyone remember the 'if I get word someone wants them' card design ideas? Yeah... got enough to cave for one of 'em, woot!)


As for those globby things on the right side: that's another bit of the Afterworld landscape-- Echoes. Somewhere between a haunting and catching a glimpse of a shooting star, these things pop up seemingly at random. It's a special occasion whenever Amnio and friends manage to spot one, even if they don't know what Echoes are or why they do what they do.

Simply put, Echoes are the last hurrah of humanity's memories-- memories that were strong enough to stick around, even if most are only flashes of habits repeated long enough to sear an action to a certain spot. A person who took the same path from their house to the corner shop down the street every morning for thirty years might show up as an Echo of a faintly humanoid form making that same trek. The local cat lady's house might play host to a couple cat-shaped Echoes who prowl the walkway out front in exactly the same path every time, and then they disappear, over and over. Every July 4th, Echoes of fireworks streak across the sky without making a sound.


Before I forget again: as of last week, the Grey Bouquet online store is SOLD OUT of the "One Year Closer to Dying" greeting card. Don't fret, though; they're still available through The Source, Magus Books, and the Sacred Paths Center here in the Twin Cities, but your humble doodle wrangler's got one important design update to mess with before this card goes in for another reprint.

Weird how that card design's been around for so long that when it was first printed, Amnio didn't even have a heart yet, eh? Well, that'll get fixed soon enough.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

So hey, I got a new not-retail job that's actually in my degree field! At a huge pay bonus! Full time! Starting the Monday after this one!

After which I immediately think, Which means I'm gonna get the Monday site updates done in a timely manner... when, exactly?


..... 8[

COUGH DISTRACTION. Hey why don't let's take another look at the sketchbook lately?


There's not usually any depreciating comments added in like this one has, but... I do not like realizing how little of art college I can actually remember. Le sigh.

Monday, January 3, 2011

So. 2011, huh? Yikes.

Well, Nugget's been tweeting again.

Probably not about this, though I'd reckon this has happened to him before.


Suddenly, Nugget gets the feeling that irony is happening, and he doesn't know why...


Plus, since you've brushed your teeth and cleaned your room like I told you to this week, here's a peek at a character I'll be explaining more about soon: meet Pink Dinosaur.


Any of you remember the series bible notes for Riddlyn a couple weeks ago? About how she rescues stuffed toys that were thought of as alive by their human owners, so much so that they became self-aware, only to be abandoned when the Apocalypse went and took their humans away? The Velveteen Underground? (Anyone? Bueller..?)

Well, short version is that Nugget finally found someone he can hug.