Think this guy might be this week’s AlphaBeast. Preliminary sketch.
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Think this guy might be this week’s AlphaBeast. Preliminary sketch.
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ehhhh
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The walf is the most majestic of god’s creatures.
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A few somewhat-successful attempts to draw my favorite rock star on one page, and some cute monstery folks derived from this monster generator on the other.
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A pugot, a shapeshifting headless monster that has a habit of stealing women’s underthings off clotheslines.
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I only managed to do half the day because I had a lot more actual work to do in the afternoon, and anyway, by that time trying to draw with a mouse for half the day had mutated my right hand into a diabolical claw.
Preliminary sketch for this week’s AlphaBeast. It’s a pugot, a headless monster that steals ladies’ underwear.
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Like most of David Cronenberg’s more recent films, this one is a straight drama, but he still manages to inject enough strangeness to make the average moviegoer uncomfortable. In this case, it’s light BDSM shown onscreen during a doctor/patient love affair, which is admittedly pretty mild from a Cronenberg perspective.
The story centers around Carl Jung and his interest in a female patient committed to the hospital where he works. This patient is Sabina Spielrein, an intelligent, educated woman who comes in suffering from “fits” (yes, of course they are sexual in nature). Spielrein has an interest in medicine, and being personally helped by Jung’s psychoanalysis brings her into the study of psychology at the university. Jung is almost unbelievably easy to talk into getting involved with her, and it’s certainly not one-sided. In the background of the love story is Jung’s personal and professional conflict with Freud.
Like a lot of biographical movies, this one suffers a bit from the episodic treatment required to tell the story of a real person. There’s more than one time when Cronenberg makes some false steps toward a denouement before we finally get there. And the trope of psychologists all being as neurotic as their patients is, of course, a bit tired. But the acting is good, the characters interesting, and the romance more complex than many historical dramas will allow, all points in its favor. Overall not bad, but far from the heights I’ve come to expect from Cronenberg.
The Sketchbook Project is a really neat thing, but I never really end up taking it that seriously. Or maybe I take it too seriously at first, and that’s why I always end up blowing through it when the deadline’s upon me and I don’t have time to be picky anymore or worry about treating the thing like a finished work of art. I’m always so scared about sketchbooks that are intended to be final presentations.
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These are some of the longer poses (thus the better-looking ones). All these sketches are charcoal on big newsprint. I had to photograph them with my phone to get them into the computer, so, uh, sorry they don’t look too nice.
I walked in in the middle of this one, maybe 8 minutes?
10 minutes.
10 minutes.
20 minutes.
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