Abroham Bling-con ©2011 Nick Beery

As a native of Illinois I am extremely familiar with the political debauchery, Chicago city-gangsterism, and economic hardships of the state. This comes as no shocker to anyone who knows the recent scandals involving nefarious politicians, constant greedy hands in the tax-payers pockets, state tax inflation, and the firing of corrupt governors such as the JFK-wannabe Rod Blagojevich for counts of wire fraud, attempted extortion, and conspiracy to solicit and accept bribes. Anyone who lives in this long state knows that the faithless system of corruption runs so deep that the state of the state is itself way beyond repair and welfare in jeopardy for the struggling lower and middle classes statewide. Thinking about the ideals that governed the state long ago and the juxtaposition of where the wounds scar now brought about the conception of Abroham Bling-con.

To be clever and make a statement is what street art is all about. Abe Lincoln is the State of Illinois political icon who represents proud and true characteristics of the American establishment such as honesty, peace and compassion, sincere religious conviction, and social humanitarian positivity. He is one of the country’s most enduring symbols of democracy and statesmanship. Lincoln is the Illinois State symbol and rides high in the state slogan “Land of Lincoln”. In fact this is the very reason for my choosing this infamous President who empowered the civil rights movement and emancipated the South from the tie to slavery. Lincoln embodies all that is patriotic and especially the American devotion to freedom which has apparently fallen to the wayside through the cracks of infidelity in the hardened grime that is Illinois politics. This systematic failure of the economy of the state knows no bounds in terms of class, race, and is rooted in the cold black heart of the wealthy, unethical so-called elite.

Abroham: Lincoln dawns an afro representing the largest minority group in Illinois. The states suppression of blacks as a minority is obvious. Drive through any inner city slum or metropolitan areas and witness the unchanging affairs of the minority communities to witness an atrocious irony. Again, the corruption of the state does not pick and choose at will but spans the entire infrastructure of citizens. It so happens that the African American demographic gets hit hardest.

Bling-con: It wouldn’t be completely street if there wasn’t a big gold chain attached. Seriously though, a massive gold chain with the American Dollar sign attached says “Illinois State politicians control the money and are greedy to show it off”, like when they need to take their personal jet 300 miles in the same state and use tax-payer’s dollars to justify their comforts. Lincoln had to be defaced with the gold grill as well. I figure this reflects the ‘gansterism’ that is engrained into the political culture of Chicago. Some words just work out to the advantage of the creative writer. With ‘con’ at the end, Bling-con becomes synonymous with crime, deception, fraud, and furthers the mockery of this portrait of the state. Last but not least, the golden devil horns emerge from the fro. These horns of course symbolize the greed and evil associated with the entirety of the theme. Not to mention depict the more sinister side and expression of the face of Abroham.

The rest of the panel is duped out in a Japanese style sun burst (for the Illinois war veterans) and some blinging gold dollar signs flying away for symmetry. I had considered tying in the Chicago city skyline on the shoulders and some added wing elements to the dollar signs but figured that the portrayal had gone far enough for viewers to get the meaning. However, I did get a few comments that ranged from trivial questions of passerbys to one another such as “Abe Lincoln with an afro?” to less intellectuals who just didn’t get it and asked harshly “Why did you give him evil horns?”. For the record, I love the state I grew up in. I am proud of Lincoln and what he means to so many Americans. This is a piece to invoke feelings that the political big-dogs would rather see suppressed. My intention here is to create a dialogue and get people talking, not to slander Abraham Lincoln or the resident citizens of Illinois.

I’ve had several offers on the original. It is not for sale. However, collectors and buyers will have a chance to buy a commissioned edition if they so desire. Interested parties must contact me directly.

Check out my works at Tasty.

Artists include:

Bradley Kataoka, Sean Wilkinson, David Vonderlinn, Kurtis Rykovich, Michael DiPetrillo, Nick Beery, Pam Man, Tim Manthey and Travis Stanley.

To RSVP on facebook, visit https://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=244987035518456

Since March 2010, Tasty has been open 6 days a week to showcase fun & funky local urban art. Every month they curate a group exhibit, themed in sync with the selected featured artist(s). To see their entire 2011 calendar, please contact Sheri. To view art from past shows, visit their website www.ShopTastyArt.com

Tasty’s hours are 11-7 Tuesday thru Saturday plus 12-5 Sunday.

Winged King Were-Bear vs Oranga-Squatch ©2011 Nick Beery

As with all artwork that I produce I always create a hand inked and vector graphic for print reproductions, stickers, tee shirts, and all the collateral swag that goes into production for the greater awareness and pimping of my projects. Below is a peek at the original hand inked drawing and what it looks like when it goes to vector. Of course the color palettes, gradients, and line work tends to change when using Live Trace in Illustrator.

The color graphic is now available in 5×7 stickers. Hit me up if your in need of some beastly sticker lovin!

Bear Knucks Drawing | Design ©2011 Nick Beery

WINGED KING WERE-BEAR

The story of Winged King Were-Bear is a tale wrapped in Russian fairytale and Northwest American folklore. The tale begins in the easternmost point of Russia where a rising Siberian prince was to come to power. The prince was one of three sons and heir to a vast kingdom under the rule of an aging tsar named Berendey.

One day the tsar discovered his coveted golden apples that grew from a vibrant tree in the palace orchard were being stolen. He was furious and set his guards to catch the thief. Though they watched all night the royal guards were unsuccessful in catching the apple robber. The tsar’s three sons stepped up to the challenge of apprehending the slick crook.

The eldest son kept guard, but fell asleep on a grassy bank after walking the orchard grounds. When asked by the tsar if he had good news his son replied “No father, I did not sleep a wink all night, but saw no one.” The following night the tsar’s second son went to guard the orchard. He too, slept all night and the next morning told his father he too had seen no sign of a thief, although he had not closed his eyes.

Now was the turn of the youngest brother, Prince Ivan, to guard the orchard. About halfway through the night he saw a light in the orchard. When he went to investigate he saw that the light was coming from a Firebird, which was sitting on the apple tree and pecking at the golden apples. When the young prince went to catch the bird it spread its wings and flew away, leaving a single tail feather in the prince’s hand.

The tsar took the feather, looked at it, and no longer felt sorrowful, but he thought a great deal about the Firebird. One day he sent for his sons and told them, “My dear children, I want you to saddle good horses and ride forth into the world to see whether you can find and bring back the Firebird.”

The young men bowed to their father, saddled good horses, and set out on their travels: the eldest in one direction, the second son in another, and Prince Ivan in a third direction.

He rode near and far, high and low, along by-paths and by-ways – for speedily a tale is spun, but with less speed a deed is done – until he came to a wide, open field, a green meadow. And there in the field stood a pillar. On the pillar these words were written: “Whosoever goes from this pillar on the road straight before him will be cold and hungry. “Whosoever goes to the right side will be safe and sound, but his horse will be killed. And whosoever goes to the left side will be killed himself, but his horse will be safe and sound.” Prince Ivan read this inscription and went to the right, thinking that although his horse might be killed, he himself would remain alive and would in time get another horse.

He rode one day, then a second day, then a third. Suddenly an enormous gray wolf came toward him and said: “Ah, so it’s you, young lad, Prince Ivan! You saw the inscription on the pillar that said that your horse would be killed if you came this way. Why then have you come hither?” When he had said these words, he tore Prince Ivan’s horse in twain and ran off to one side.

Prince Ivan was sorely grieved for his horse; he shed bitter tears and then continued on foot. He walked a whole day and was utterly exhausted. He was about to sit down and rest for a while when all at once the gray wolf caught up with him and said: “I am sorry for you Prince Ivan, because you are exhausted from walking. I am also sorry that I ate your good horse. Tell me why you have travelled so far, and where you are going?”

“My father has sent me to ride through the world until I find the Firebird.”
“Why, you could have ridden even on your good horse for three years and never found the Firebird for only I know where it lives. I ate your horse, so now I will serve you faithfully and well. Get on my back and hold on tight.”

Prince Ivan seated himself astride the grey wolf, and it loped away, past the green forests, and the azure lakes. At last they came to a very high fortress. There the grey wolf told Ivan:
“Listen to me, and remember what I say. Climb over the wall and do not be afraid. All the guards are asleep. In the attic you will see a small window. In the window hangs a golden cage. In that cage is the Firebird. Take the bird and hide it under your coat, but be sure not to touch the cage.”

Prince Ivan climbed over the wall and saw the attic. And, just as the wolf had said, in the attic window a golden cage was hanging, and the Firebird was in the cage. He took out the bird and put it under his coat. But as he looked at the golden cage he could not help coveting it. It was made of precious gold. How could he leave it behind? He completely forgot what the wolf had told him. But as soon as he touched the cage the alarm was sounded all through the fortress where drums rolled and trumpets blared. The guards woke up, captured Prince Ivan and took him to Tsar Afron. The tsar was furious at this attempt to steal the Firebird and the cage, and asked the prince:

“Who are you, and where are you from?”

“I am Prince Ivan, the son of Tsar Berendey,” Ivan replied.

“How shameful! The son of a tsar coming here to steal!” the tsar exclaimed.

“That is as may be,” the prince retorted. “But your bird flew to our orchard and stole the golden apples.”

In that case you should have come to me and asked me for the Firebird and I would have given it to you out of respect for your father. Now I shall see to it that all the world knows of your behavior! And with the tsar’s words a trumpet sounded with mighty force. The guards took young Prince Ivan up to a high tower chamber where he was forcefully secured to a wall with incredibly thick and heavy chains. The prince soon fell asleep hanging, fatigued from his unsuccessful travels.

Coming out of a dream like state the prince’s teary eyes saw what appeared to be a hooded figure at his cell door. Due to his exhausted state the prince did not know if he was dreaming or if his circumstances were all too real. He lifted his head and said “who are you, am I dead?” With a slight chuckle the dark silhouette blurred and suddenly appeared inside the cell only a few feet from the imprisoned royal youth.

With a twist of shape the figure shifted into the grey wolf. To the surprise and joy of the prince the wolf said “I shall once again be of service to you.” The prince held his head steady and began to rejoice. The wolf halted his celebration and said “I can help you once again young prince, however there is a price that comes with freedom.” The prince replied, “I am but to be shameful to my kingdom and country if I’m found to be guilty of such a petty crime. I will endure what fate may have me if only to be free from this wicked cell!”

A snide grin appeared on the face of the wolf and in an instant he bit Prince Ivan on his hand and said, “You are now under a spell which will free you from this chamber. Once you are free you are cursed to live your days as a stranger to all you know. However, you will be a most powerful being capable of living your days among solitary creatures like myself and will be unstoppable under the full moon light!”

Prince Ivan shook his wounded hand and shouted at the wolf, “Is this some kind of joke? Break my bonds and get me down from this infernal tower!” The prince then began to curse and flail his harnessed limbs at the wolf who sat calmly observing the window and setting sun. With the light fading to night outside the tower the wolf replied, “Tonight is a night of nocturnal unrest. Tonight is the phase of a full moon. You will find your own way to freedom from this cell when the moon rises and shines it’s pale light into your chamber through the barred window!”

With a flash of blinding light the wolf disappeared in his place was left a weapon forged of shiny metal that sat shimmering on the floor just out of reach of the captive prince. Confused the prince set out in his mind determined to flee from his chains. How could the wolf leave me like this? Why leave me a simple hand weapon when I can’t even reach it? I’m doomed to become an embarrassing tale to my brothers and king father! The prince sobbed into exhaustion and fell asleep once more.

A raucous below the tower where a horse drawn cart had collided with livestock awoke the chained prince. Night had fallen and stars twinkled in the void of sky among shifting clouds. A faint glow behind a large span of trees and cloud cover created a hint of reflection on the brass weapon that lay upon the floor before Prince Ivan. He stared quietly at the piece and thought of what the gray wolf had told him after he had bitten his hand. The prince’s focus returned and he gazed through the bars of the tower window.

The clouds began to part and the distant circular glow had ascended to a great height. Suddenly with a gust of wind a hole opened in the wispy nebula above. The full moon in all its glory flooded the cell with light and cast a singular beam upon the young prince. His face began to grow and his arms thickened. His eyes bulged and he buckled in anguish. “That foul beast! What has the wolf done to me!”

The prince looked at his arms and thick fur began to grow all over his body. His vision became clearer and the night was no longer dark. A surge of energy like that of the ocean tide came over his mind and limbs. He reeled back and belted a loud growling snarl. The chains had burst from the wall and he tore the remaining metal from his wrists like rings of parchment. The prince had transformed.

Astonished by the ease of release and enthralled with power the once prince became aware of his new being. With animal instinct he peered to the moon, swooped up the weapon, and tore the bars from the tower window. The menacing height caught him off guard and he began to lose his balance. The large beast-man toppled forward through the portal. Upon falling another instinct of sorts kicked in and massive wings spread from his upper back. The once doomed prince was now a giant bear-beast flying by moonlight free from his captors.

Prince Ivan knew no better than to flee back to his family’s palace. He entered the orchard where the golden apples grew. Before getting to an entrance to the tsar’s common room a guard caught site of him and sounded an alarm. All at once a team of his very own guard were upon him. They began to siege the beast with spears and arrows while branding swords in his very direction. The intuitive senses of his animal being sprang to action and he began slaughtering the small army one by one. Chomping at the heads of his attackers the now full on were-bear threw punch after bloody punch with his metal knuckle weapon.

In a matter of a few minutes the entire brigade was decimated. He looked at the head of the captain of the guard. It was none other than the face of his eldest brother. Embossed in the forehead of what was once his best defender and icon was the gruesome impression of two words “Bear Knucks”. The weapon left to him by the grey wolf was a solid brass knuckle piece. It was the evident reminder of what he now was and forever would be from this day on.

The prince, ashamed and afraid, fled his homeland in hopes his royal reputation and family would not be scarred. His brother now dead because of the beast he became, the prince sought out across the Bering Strait where he made his way down the coast and eventually to the precipitous Cascade Mountain range. He had found a new home. He was now the king of his own land and of the indigenous creatures that resided his territory. The once young prince grew to be the fiercest anomaly in the Cascades…he was now Winged King Were-Bear !

References to this story were derived from the Slavic folklore and Russian fairytale The Firebird.

Book Club • Good Omens • BHerd Studio

Continuing with my new exploration of media utilizing old photographs from the early 1900′s I’ve delved deep to reveal my very own character interpretations from the Good Omen’s graphic novel. Mixing up the media by layering acrylics on top of the relic photos was a bit of a challenge. Achieving the exact antiqued tones that vary from monochromatic sepia to faded warm grey tones can be a tough balance. Getting the gradations, textures, and form is pertinent to create a seamless blend of paint on print. Below are my character renditions which will be at the show. I’ve chosen to frame each original piece with antique frames to further heighten the vintage aesthetics.

SATAN aka BEELZEBUB:

Beelzebub is introduced as “A Likewise Fallen Angel and Prince of Hell” (13) in the Dramatis Personae. He is briefly mentioned when a worried Crowley, trying to get his mind off misplacing the Antichrist puts on a tape in the Bentley. The first line is from Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody, “Bee-elzebub has a devil put aside for me” Crowley begins to introduce Beelzebub but is cut off at “he’s the Lord of–” (349). The Hebrew origin of the name, Baʽal zĕbhūbh, literally means lord of flies. In the Old Testament, Baalzebûb was the Philistine god of the city Ekron, also called lord of the flies because he drove flies away from the sacrifice. In the New Testament, an evil spirit named Beelzeboul “destroys by means of tyrants, causes demons to be worshiped, arouses desires in priests, brings about jealousies and murders, and instigates wars”. He is also called the prince of demons. Though it is unclear whether Baalzebûb and Beelzeboul were intended to be the same figure, elements of both are included in this novel’s Beelzebub, as well as generally in popular culture today.  My Satan is rather a mixture of Death and Demon.

Beelzebub • Acrylics on relic photograph • ©2011 Nick Beery

As an investigator of evil and darkness it was my pleasure creating the 4 Horsemen of the Apocalypse characters. I blended Death with Satan as the sinister dark side is prevalent in either mentioning. The following character pieces represent the remaining riders of the apocalypse. I dug deep in my collection of age old photos to get the perfect feel for each.

FAMINE:

The sophisticated Horsemen who goes by the name of Dr. Raven Sable, at least during canon: if he’s had other names, they’re not mentioned — looks like a “pleasant, thrusting, successful businessman” (338). He’s thin, of course. He has black hair, a short black beard, and he dresses all in black. He has “dark grey eyes” (63). The International Express delivery-man finds him from the description of a “tall gent with a beard, nice suit.” Famine comes off as the most human of the four Horsepeople, perhaps because he has the most interaction with humans (War also deals with them, but those meetings tend to be short-lived by nature). When he first appears, he’s doing drinks with his accountant Frannie after having dinner with her. He knows her well enough to have bought her a laptop computer “as a personal present,” (64) which implies a certain amount of familiarity. Famine’s earlier internal meta-commentary suggest that the Horsepeople are aligned to one of the sides — namely Hell — in the coming conflict.) He takes pleasure in his job: “Sable grinned, the honest, open grin that goes with job satisfaction, perfect and pure. He was just killing time until the main event, but he was killing it in such exquisite ways. Time, and sometimes people” (64). Famine is a most deceptive character and fits the suit of an astute pre-depression gentleman quite swimmingly.

Famine • Acrylics on old photograph • ©2011 Nick Beery

WAR:

In the Good Omens universe, War isn’t a man, but a woman, who calls herself Scarlett. She is perhaps the most deceiving of all Horsemen on the surface. She has an air of danger about her: her voice sounds like “something that lurks in the long grass, visible only by the twitching of its ears, until something young and tender wobbles by” (45), her laugh is like “machine-gun stutter” (314), and though she’s described as beautiful, it’s “the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close” (104). My depiction of War isn’t literal of the descriptors in the book, but my take on the “two-faced” and disingenuous qualities of the character. A seemingly beautiful flower from the front with a hidden dark demon lurking behind and from within.

There’s no sense that War regards the people around her as anything other than playthings for her amusement. She’s polite enough if she talks to someone, but the closest to prolonged interaction with anyone besides the other Horsepeople is with her (human) fellow war correspondents: “Ms. Zuigiber just smiled and bought another round of drinks for everybody, on the National World Weekly. And watched the fights break out around her. And smiled” (100). Only with the Horsepeople does she act anything like human, comparing Armageddeon to “waiting for Christmas. Or birthdays.” When Famine reminds her that the Horsepeople don’t have birthdays, she retorts, “I didn’t say we do. I just said that was what it was like” (236). War is the car-crash you can’t help but watch.

War • Acrylics on old photograph • ©2011 Nick Beery

POLLUTION:

In the traditional reckoning of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, this horseman is Pestilence. However, apparently Pestilence retired in 1936, “muttering about penicillin” (263), and Pollution took over. He looked like Victorian Romantic poets looked just before the consumption and drug abuse really started to cut it” (185). “His skin was pale, his hair a faded blond, his eyes light gray. He was somewhere in his twenties at a casual glance, and a casual glance was all anyone ever gave him. He was almost entirely unmemorable” (64). “Farther down the riverbank sat a young man dressed all in white. His hair was white, his skin chalk pale. For the most part, however, nobody notices him. That’s how he works. “He was unobtrusive; his presence was cumulative” (65). He’s responsible for massive oil spills, for nuclear plant meltdowns, for the development of “the petrol engine, and plastics, and the ring-pull can” (65). I decided to further push the sense of Pollution’s essence and motive I would include a smoking cigar jutting from his pale and ugly face. Modeling the tones of paint on the awkward head of a late 1800′s countryman was a great undertaking. The photo was relatively miniature which meant breaking out the one-haired brushes.

Pollution • Acrylics on old photograph • ©2011 Nick Beery

Shoggoth Toy / Vault of Cthulhu Coffin ©2011 Nick Beery

After putting together a graphic novel 5 years ago with writer Scott Beem and comic artist Zac Atkinson titled Vault of Cthulhu I continued to arouse my dark side with other Lovecraft inspired pieces. Paying a bit of homage to our book I decided to use the highly coveted title graphic which is integrated into the upper part of the coffin where the creature extends his cyclopean tentacles. This works perfectly as I see the coffin as the true “vault” that holds the aeon aged beings of the Cthulhu Mythos. It is always satisfying jumping into the 3D work and bringing some layers to my visual repertoire.

Vertical Coffin "Death May Die" ©2011 Nick Beery

Check out the gallery below for close up details of the Cthulhu Coffin and the Shoggoth Toy.

Boxes of Death II /// ElectricCoffin /// Seattle

Duffy from Electric Coffin with a little insight into the production of the show and artist line up:

Boxes of Death 2 from Andrius Simutis on Vimeo.

Duffy’s recap of Boxes of Death II … a most EPIC show!

Boxes of Death Show from Andrius Simutis on Vimeo.

Charlie Brown’s main characteristic is either self-defeating stubbornness or admirable determined persistence to try his best against all odds. He just never seems to come out on top. Though his inferiority complex was evident from the start, he occasionally got in his own jabs when verbally sparring with Perpermint Patty and Lucy. Patty always called him “Chuck”, which I took as an innuendo on relating to front man Chuck D from 1980′s-90′s politically charged rap group Public Enemy. This is the so called ‘return of Chuck’ and he’s back with vengeance!

Chuck B "Public Enemy No 1" ©2010 Nick Beery

Continuing on the play of long running gags from the cartoon strip I focused on Lucy’s most famous gimmick of trickery in which she pulls the football away from Charlie Brown right as he is about to kick it. I have to say that this joke annoyed me to the bone as a kid. You were always rooting for Chuck to come out on top. Lucy’s constant treatment of treacherousness toward Chuck was enough to make any young boy hate the overzealous, big black-haired antagonist. As the perpetual victim of Lucy’s wit  and sarcasm it was time to bring the ‘take no more bullshit’ man out of the white bread, life-despising boy.

Lucy's gonna get smoked!

Chuck be is tatted up, pierced, and strapped for revenge. There are a few elements hidden in his ink that reference events and characters from the cartoon. His most famous reactive saying “Good Grief” is tattooed on the back of his head along with a serpent eating the “D” and a sinister demon face. The tongue lashes down to his neck where Peggy Jean is neatly calligraphed. She was Chuck’s only real girlfriend after meeting at summer camp. He just never had any luck with the ladies! Tatted on his forearm is perhaps my favorite quote that goes swimmingly with the full premise of this piece which appears as “The secret to life, replace one problem with another”. Below this is ‘Lucy’ with a knife and bone graphic.

Good Grief!

There is an ode to Snoopy with the Rest In Peace, pistols, and the quarky dogs notable red dog house. The owner and pet had their disagreements, but all in all I believe Snoopy was Chuck’s greatest allie in the war of life. The back piece would not be complete with a reference to perhaps the most infamous Peanuts cartoon holiday special, The Great Pumpkin. The best line from that particular show was “There are three things I have learned never to discuss with people: religion, politics, and the Great Pumpkin.” The Great Pumpkin was like the Keyser Söze of the Peanuts. I always foresaw this mythical holiday icon as something like a mob boss that all the kids worshipped. So, naturally Chuck B should have GP 4LIFE  as a tramp stamp.

Great Pumpkin is a killer!

As with most of my Pop Fiction characterizations there is smoking, gun toting, and tattoos. When doing these pieces it is a fine balance of including elements that are ‘in your face’ for necessity along with hidden or strategically placed ingredients. There are so many versions of Charlie Brown floating around these days and all of them use his notorious yellow and brown zig zagged shirt in normal fashion. Bad ass Chuck B however would naturally have this tucked into his saggy draws rather than sporting it in common form. Promoting violence through cartoon strip characters?…it’s been happening since the advent of animation…let’s continue the barrage of comedy sin!

It's all about the size of the gat!

Here’s more from the ‘Peanuts’ Gallery

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3 Demented Stooges ©2010 Nick Beery

The concept behind mashing up these iconic comedians with fiendish movie characters, serial killers, chemical abusing celebrities, and national hero presidents is create a juxtaposition of character while maintaining a similar expression and mannerism in the facial features of the Stooges. It is no secret I love the Stooges, horror flicks, Tool, Stephen King, and even the captivating killers of our society. To find a resemblance in these personalities would seem odd until you see them side by side. The total shocker comes when there is a hint of say Moe’s expressive eye, a bit of Abe’s chin and mouth, and a smidgeon of Micheal Myers face mask and there is still the ‘Moe’ in there.

Larry was always kind of the tertiary stooge, regardless of Curly Joe and Shemp’s time on screen. His moppy doo and big nose made a nice pairing with Stephen King’s IT. Rick James bedroom eyes, little stache, and later to be saggy expression seemed like the perfect tertiary for this mash up.

Curly…aaaaah my favorite Curly. John Wayne Gacy who dressed up as a clown for the local townspeople and turned torso’s into lamp shades fit perfectly into the gone mad side of this piece. Just to push the extremity of the craziness I had to add that lolligag lazy-like eye, which reminded me of the TOOL cover Aenima.

He was well contained to his room where he smoked incessantly without open window or ventilation. The dude was straight up scum and tainted all he came in contact with. So he moved out…actually we kicked him out (with notice mind you) and when we opened the door to his chamber there stood 4 feet tall what would be considered a small portion of toxic land fill! 4 truckloads of garbage to the dump, about 20 contractor size garbage bags, and a light dowse of napalm later, his dirtbag storage space was cleared. There was one hard wood shelf that was left standing. After several douching sessions to remove the thick film of nicotine I got these beautiful wood panels. There is a ridiculous sub-story regarding one of these panels that damned near killed me…I’ll save that for another post!

The video of the making of Moto Head - Moto Head by Nick Beery

FYI: These panels are completely nicotine and smoke free. Moto Head is available for purchase. If interested please drop me a note!

As most works start as a sketch and then get layered over with paint or other liquid mediums it is tough to capture the raw fluidity and gestures that subtly occur in the first drawing. It was this that lead to the decision to show the pencil rendering on a lengthy vertical tile, also glorifying the ghostly appearance of this sky-scavenger. If you have ever heard Human League‘s track Crow and a Baby from the Travelogue album you will see a definite connection with this piece.

Farewell Spaceman ©2010 BeeryMethod