Scum and Villainy: Star Wars TCG & Pocketmodels

Everybody has an off day.

A sick day.

A day where it is impossible to force your pyjamas anywhere past your fucking knees.

One of those days where you don't make it beyond the bathroom or refrigerator depending on the layout of your domicile.  Yesterday being of those days; while I wallowed in my own fetid distillery-stench and self-loathing I spied something odd peeking out at me from a cracked dresser drawer that I haven't touched since 2008 - at least.

 

Boba Fett, silently judging me amongst a mass of old, too large, too colourful clothing that I've been too lazy to even consider thinking about for the past four years.

Mechanix

Wanna see how art school teaches you how the creative process is just as mechanical and repetitive as every other job?  No?

Oh...well.

I'm not really an art student.  I'm actually majoring in bullshit with a minor in self-loathing.

As you can see - I pencil things digitally because I draw with all the finesse of a bag of hammers being dropped down a flight of stairs.  It's just faster and easier for me to see what I'm actually doing.  This is generally what my things look like freshly scanned after they've been inked, the motorcycle image to the right of that however, is where I've messed with the levels and threshold.  Much cleaner, and ready for digital editing!

This is the first time I've ever applied a digital screentone before, I've used the original zip-a-tone sheets before to drop textures by hand, but this was just so much less time consuming.  I ended up using a grey-tone wash sheet scan to make my tones look just a bit more organic than the all inclusive flat digital fade.  The wash also seems to print better at a larger format than the digital texture.  Asymmetry for the masses!

Then, finally - I had to do my titles by hand, which is a pain.  I look at how the old masters incorporated titles and text into their splash pages and I cringe at how bad I am at it.  But either way, I puked these out in a hurry and scanned these babies in, dropped them where I wanted them.

And the final product of all of this?

Swanky.

I need to edit them some more, do some hand lettering with their names below their boxes like in the pencils - maybe moving the title for the Heavenly host to that giant white floating space.

But that's how it always goes, nothing ever seems finished.

Supply Wars

Supply-wise all artists have their own personal favourites.  Musicians have their go-to suppliers for instruments, amps, mics, etc.  Every knitter has their own yarn that they fully endorse, and there are painters that will only use one or two brands of paint because of the chemical breakdown that allows such pigments to be so stubbornly bright, or so inevitably sheer and full of light.  Dancers tend to use one brand of equipment because it 'preforms best' or 'lasts forever'.  Even farmers have their own certain seed-brands or tractor equipment that they're attracted to.

And as a artist, I feel even less of an artist because I have so very few brands that I jump on and go "THIS, THIS IS FOR ME."

I suppose it's because I'm so indecisive, but sometimes, in the face of the array of supplies I'm privy to, that I feel so blatantly uneducated and unsure of myself that I don't even know my arse from a hole in the ground.

Surely you say "RUBE, DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE?"

And lo, I say "NO, NO I FUCKING DON'T.  I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I'M GOING TO GET WHEN I'M GOING THROUGH A DRIVE-THROUGH OF MY OWN CHOICE UNTIL I SEE THE GODDAMN MENU USUALLY."