Custom playmat paintings

A little something new for you this week, my Beloved Minions. Well, new to some of you. I bring you the very latest in cutting edge analog fanservice, the fully rendered playmat sketch:

My playmat sketches have evolved quite a bit this year. When I was in Madrid for the Magic GP, I was asked to desecrate many a playmat. And there I was, with my trusty sharpie, "Sheriff Bart." Which I had figured would be enough, he always had before. But then, folks started unceremoniously dropping mats with full color marker paintings by Aleksi Briclot in front of me. Asking me to do "something like that," with a smile, and an expectation that I could somehow compete with that.

After the shame of defacing the second half of many a beautiful work by Aleksi, I decided I needed to upgrade. First I started with a handful of Prismacolor markers, which worked quite well. Then, when I found myself in a scrapbook store - for totally legitimate reasons - I tried out some Copic markers, as recommended to me by the inimitable, unparalleled, incredible Adam Hughes.

These are some fine markers. A little pricey, but awesome. The above is the first, in hopefully a long series, of "no-holds-barred" playmat artwork. For those interested in seeing some of the evolutionary stages, here are some much faster sketches I've done at cons. As usual, these are just the handful I managed to take pictures of before they scurried off to become battlefields.

Now new artwork! Go bathe in their salty comments! Rub your eyes against the wallpaper sizes! Taste the hamfisted abuse of color!

Next week: Metal Mania! Or some other catchprase that hasn’t been outdated since I was in diapers. Whatever. A magical metal man with skull helmet and spikes shows us how to love! And a possessed kabuto offers the mysteries of the universe, at a price... (It is very picky about shampoo.)

The mailing list is hungry. If you're not yet on the list, cast yourself upon it before it is too late!

Cuddles from across cyberspace, my Beloved Minions. Follow me now via the mailing list, my website, deviantart, blogspot, facebook, or livejournal.

This is the holiday where Cthulu rises and it rains ham, right?

My family and friends have taken issue with my Christmas list this year. It seems that "candy zombie apocalypse of gluttony" is not something you can order from Amazon.

Similarly when I presented "Robo-harem of sassy and assy super-heroines" as a great present, my wife inexplicably punched me in the nipple.

Apparently my online request for "modified super-villain death-ray that turns stray neighborhood animals into pine-scented rainbows" was not popular with PETA, if the grenades lobbed through my windows are any indication. (Clever though, they are engraved with such slogans as "Meat is murder! How do you like it, d-bag?" and "Say hello to puppy Jesus for us. XOXO PETA." Or "To whom it may concern, thank you for reading this grenade instead of throwing it back at us." )

They're all grinches, I say. Grinches! Ebineezer Grinchy MacHatesalot Scrooges!

Anyhow, I've got some new paintings for you to gander at. Or even gawk or ponder, if the mood strikes you.

A new card alteration, up on eBay, this time as Buy It Now, just in case somebody want's it fast-like, for Xmas or what.

The commission slot auction turned out to be kind of a silly idea. Nobody bid, but tons of folks emailed me about commissioning their own. At the moment, I'm full to my sugared brim with private commissions. I won't be open for new ones for a bit, but most folks are ok with my posting them here for you all to see. So stay tuned.

Next week: An L5R Phoenix Shugenja vixen will challenge the laws of physics and win! Jodo Kast, the Boba Fettin'est poser for three star systems will show us his tomato vaporizers, and how to use them to make Mandalorian Salad!

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A Thousand Sins of Gluttony.

Frosty greetings from behind the shroud of Old Man Winter's deplorably skimpy loincloth, my Beloved Minions. It is officially colder than a frost titan's netherbits here in my mountain stronghold.

For those of you that celebrate the Feast of a Thousand Consecutive Sins of Wanton Gluttony, I hope yours was as good as mine. The heavens weep for the damage I've done to myself, and the turkey population, in the name of holiday participation.

The state of my card alter eBay auction shrouds the interest it seems to have piqued in many of you. A great torrent of email have I seen. A great wailing for more, and pleading to take commissions to alter favorites and playsets. Fear not. The great defacing work will continue. Weekly auctions, and yes, private commissions.

There is still a few days left on the Chandra A'Slaved auction, so everyone get your sniping scopes polished, and prepare your maniacal victory bellow.

And, as promised, another alteration is here.

The Hippodrome of Shai Hulud! I have long held that any form of sport, racing or otherwise, would be much more interesting with sandworm attacks. Who's with me here?

And this too, can be yours, if your sniper skills are up to it.

Next week: the final Scars of Mirrodin painting will swell your pixels! Grand Admiral Thrawn contemplates the horror he finds in the refrigerator! And probably some words hastily arranged!

The question of the week has been "What sort of alters have you done before? (Plus what's a Sharpie alter look like?)

And the above is the answer to both. I've had some very nice players take photos of alters I've done for them, and I've snapped a few myself before giving them up, like my children, with tears in my eyes.

These are what keep me up for three or four days straight at events. Taking stacks of alter requests, and pillaging the local convenient stores for enough caffeine to finish them all.

For those of you who are not yet on my mailing list: Specters of shame and torment follow those who are not "of the list." Remedy this before it's too late! Also, you can use it to brag about how much email you get. It's like having a +1 Inbox of Incredulity!

Squishy squeezes to you all, my Beloved Minions. Follow me now via the mailing list, my website, deviantart, blogspot, facebook, or livejournal.

Fanservice vandalism, France, and typical mischievy.

Those wacky Hutts. They never learn. Chandra A'Slaved eBay Auction.

New to some of you, I have recently taken to defacing my own artwork in a delightful ritual known as "card-alteration." Well, the defacing isn't so much new, as is using real paint and doing a decent job of it. Fear not, event patrons: I will still test the limits of caffeine and sleepless endurance to do your on-the-spot sharpie defilement at cons and tourneys. But this is a way for people to throttle a little more time and love out of me, and own what is currently the closest thing I offer to original paintings. To own this travestuous co-defiling of two beloved fantasy worlds: bid here on eBay. (link) Another alteration to further corrupt your childhood heroes to come next week. Same bat-time, same-bat channel. I've already had a deluge of queries regarding whether commissioning such vandalism will be possible. Yes. My irreverence is not above bribery. I will accept up to a whopping one alter commission a week. Act now, operators are standing by.

Last week(-ish,) I was privileged to attend the Legend of the Five Rings World Championship in Lyon, France. A mighty hell of a time was enjoyed. The Irish players would say "it was grand." "But grand-grand. Not /grand./" I think something may be lost in typing it... Perhaps I should instead say it was "deadly?" Special thanks to all my across-the-atlantic-pond friends who once again, treated me like a god of myth come back for a visit. Your legendary hospitality keeps me warm in my heart-meats all year long.

Many a card's tranquility sundered by my irreverence! Many sketches were birthed as well! Not enough pictures were taken!

At the cafe, this was boasted "the All American Combo!" Sorry, but not quite...

One thing I failed you on, was to bring enough deck backers for you all. In lieu of the seppuku that honor demands, but my weak will vetos: free shipping PLUS 10% off select deckbackers on my eBay store.

Catching up on some artwork, enjoy wallpaper sizes, commentary, preliminary sketches, time-lapses, and even more time-wastefulness by clicking on the following:

Next week: More seemingly ceaseless prattling, Magic artwork, Legends of Norrath, and another alter for auction!

Totally unrelated to anything: Upon arriving at the voting polls, this colossal dumpster blocking the handicapped parking and access to the building itself, seemed an all too poetic metaphor for perpetual political quagmire.

Oh no, I'm being all edgy and political!

If you're not already on my mailing list, the heavens weep for your soul, lost in the dark and cold. Come to the fold. Join the Beloved Minions. Email me to be added to the mailing list of Occasional Fleeting Salvation from Boredom.

Dark hugs to you all, my Beloved Minions.

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The Illustration Master Class. AKA Festivawesome!

The Illustration Master Class. Mount Olympia descends from the heavens for a week long sleepover with the Gods of Art. James Gurney, Jeremy Jarvis, Rebecca Guay, Donato Giancola, Boris Vallejo, Julie Bell, Scott Fischer, Don Dos Santos, Greg Manchess, Irene Gallo. Gods. If Zombie Rembrant showed up with an easel, no one would be surprised.



It began early for me, running into Jeremy Jarvis at the airport. Our connecting flight had gone insane. The "Flight departing at whatever" display could not make up it's mind. "Now boarding! No wait. Delayed three hours! Last call for boarding! Cancelled! On the runway!" People were turning back and forth like a school of fish chased by sharks.

So yeah, delayed enough that I'd missed my appointed Ultra-Econo-Trans-Quality-#1Shuttles ride. But Jeremy was gracious enough to let me ride in his... limo? That's right. The Gods travel in style. (I'm pretty sure Jim Gurney rode in on a golden chariot pulled by a team of pegasus. (Pegasuses. Pegasi? Horsebird gaggle.) Jeremy, being a humble fellow, was tragically embarrassed that the IMC had sent a limo for him, and tried to talk the driver into dropping us off in some shady, out of sight place. Also to mug us for good measure.

As students, our challenge was to create a compelling illustration from one of the following concepts: Beauty and the Beast, Jet Cycle Getaway, Joan of Arc, War Priest, or Frost Titan. We were supposed to arrive with sketches finished, ready for critique. I managed to scribble this before they got to me, like the kid who'd forgotten his homework.


-"So, it's a clown goblin orgy? Which one of the challenges does that fit into?"-

Even from this, they gave me some great direction. And no, it did not include "you're in the wrong building, remedial education is two buildings down. You can count to two, right? Don't forget your helmet."

We attended a safety lecture that made painting seem more dangerous than circumcising Godzilla, while he rampages through an on-fire minefield while radioactive acid meteors rain en masse. Despite this stern warning, we did have one safety related "incident." There were two studios, seemingly divided by partyability quotient. At some point, the safety officer said something to the effect of "We respect that you're all adults. But upstairs there's enough liquor to pickle the Kraken. We're pretty sure we saw some of you doing turpentine shots and linseed oil martinis, too. Maybe take it down a notch before someone cuts off their ear in a bout of inspiration?"

Over the week, we were treated to two lectures a day. (Moses only got the one!) Subjects ranged from composition, to shooting reference, to marketing your work, to renewing your love to paint. James Gurney gave two lectures, pretty well covering everything about creating a painting of something that does not exist. Greg Manchess delivered a stirring scientific lecture proving that "talent is total crap." It's study, practice, and work that counts. I could talk about all the fantastic lectures for days. They were that good.


-Working out the composition before detail. A rare case of me practicing what I preach.-

In the time between, we worked on our paintings, getting individual attention from each art god. Reveling in every moment. The Gods painted right along side us. We all stayed in the same dorm, ate at the same cafeteria, and before long it felt like a giant family. Except without the fighting about politics and questions about "where I'm going with my life," and "when I'm going to get a real job," and "why I cry Mountain Dew."


-A delightful bombardment of useful information, packed tighter than a uranium bomb, and twice as radioactive.-

Folks got to see first-hand my peculiar brand of building reference. I even introduced Jim Gurney to zBrush, and he sculpted an adorable little gnome face.


-"Now Steve, I know it's technically accurate, but it's a little distracting having all these flying stingrays with dangling naughty bits flapping in the wind."-

-Quick and dirty zBrush models, rendered in Maya.-

The IMC was incredible. I highly recommend it to anyone serious about art.


-This is apparently Donato kicking my foot away. Because he hates it so very, very much.-

I've still got lots of other misadventures to share, but rather than one epic, hundred page post that no one will read, I'll leave the rest for another time.

In other news, more art! Click on them! There's commentary, sketches, alternate versions, all that good stuff! Go now!

(If you want to be cool, hip, groovy, and with-it, you should join my mailing list by emailing me from the contact page. If you're already on the mailing list, you've probably already ascended to greater enlightenment. Perhaps you've even transformed into a being of pure internet.)

A Maelstrom of the Usual!

April 2010: ImagineFX, Europe vs. Utah, the "return" to L5R, and Rise of the Eldrazi.

Tradition states that I start each post by begging forgiveness for how long it's been since my last one, followed by a flimsy excuse as to why. And this edition shall be no different. Declare me a slave to formula if you must.

Sorry it's been so long. Blame the aliens who took and dissected my brain. I'm certain they did not put it back exactly as they found it.

Much has happened since our last torrid affair, my beloved minions. Much that has conspired to consume every tiniest morsel of my time, and coming back for helping after gluttonous helping.

But -mostly- delightful things, I assure you. Some things shared, some things yet to be shared. Many of you I've had the opportunity to meet in person, and I have to say that every horrible thing your friends have said about you was greatly exaggerated. I didn't think you smelled like Fritos and farts at all.

First, I have been honored with inclusion in Spectrum 17, the universe's premier gallery book, to come out later this year. For more immediate gratification, I'm super doubley honored to have a feature in this month's ImagineFX! Read it. Read it and weep tears of joy!

Chicago Worldwake Prerelease:

Though I am not super new to Magic: the Gathering, I'm new to the players. Special thanks to Alan Hochman and Pasttimes Games for being fantastic hosts. This was the first official Magic event I've made it out to. A learning experience, to be sure. I had a great time, and did quite a few playmat sketches and card alters. But none of it would prepare me for...

Madrid Magic Grand Prix:

I arrived a day early, and met up with the organizers (who did an amazing job, btw,) at a lovely local restaurant called Sagardi. I've been to Madrid twice now, and I'm convinced it must be where good tongues go when they die. Both times, I've had some of the best food of my life. If any of you locals can tell me how Madridzianitelings cook steak, for the love of Xenu's illegitimate twins, share this recipe with me! So far as I can tell, they get a slab of iron red hot, then slap the steak on it for no more than a nano-second for each side. Because the result is a crisp outer layer, with an almost raw interior. Like having crème brulée made of cow. And I must have more.

After a jet-lag, meat, and melatonin induced mini-coma, I made a trek out to the Prado Museum. One of the things I dig about European cities, is that you can walk anywhere, and it's already like a museum. Everywhere naked statues, classic architecture, stylish people. In the desolate wasteland I call home, you only walk somewhere if you want: a) Cheap trouser hemming via the friendly neighborhood dogs. b) To smuggle fertilizer to your garden courtesy of the ridiculously abundant number of horses, and their more ridiculously thoughtless owners. c) To end it all and be run down by one of the many prepubescent children obliviously crisscrossing public roads on high-powered four wheelers. d) because there are too many unattended children playing in the street to get your car out of the driveway.

Seriously, my neighborhood is like some sort of temporal displacement to 1835. Where the middle of the road is the safest place for children, the best grazing for horses, and the cleanest place to poop. But I digress.

What I was getting at is: Europe is awesome. If the end of my street had a statue of Zeus, it would be a matter of hours before the locals put pants and shirt on him, unceremoniously chainsaw-carved the Ten Commandments into his chest, some kid would have broken off and swallowed his garland, there would be tire tracks all over it, and a veritable rainbow of animal droppings would color the marble.

I'm digressing again.

I'm just more of a city boy, I guess. And European cities rock my pants right off. The Prado was incredible. And massive. Bigger than my big-big thirst for things caffeinated and sugary. I spent about nine hours in there, and I'm pretty sure I still missed half of it. For those of you not lucky enough to have folks buy you a plane ticket just to show up at their event, here's a page full of Prado stuffs:

The Prado Museum

The event itself was unprecedented. 2,227 registered players, plus girlfriends, boyfriends, wanderers, and at least a handful of werewolf tourists. And just two artists to fill the ravenous requests of players who outnumber us in a way that reminds one of King Leonidas and the 300. (Though the players were much, much nicer than Xerxes and company.) Just me and Mark Poole. Who, by the way, is a fantastic chap. I was not prepared for filling the requests of that many players. And, though many a sharpie was worn to a nub, I can't help but feel I left far too many players wanting. For this, my Beloved Madridzian Minions, I apologize. I have learned. At least a little.

One of the reasons for my infrequent posts, is that when I have a moment to sit and compose an update, (usually because I've accidentally set another Wacom pen aflame,) I feel I have to write about all my misadventures all the way back to the last post. Which can be a daunting task. Particularly when I have the memory of a brain-damaged alcoholic hamster.

So this time, I'll cut things... I can't really say short at this point, can I? But I'll stop for now, leaving you with some new artwork, and some teasers of stories to come. In the next installment, I'll sing ballads of Lafayette, Las Vegas, and Houston. And I'll give you some sneak peek artwork from a potential television series I've done some concepts for. So stay tuned. (Is there a new, more modern equivalent of that phrase?)

Oh, upcoming events at the moment: Just the Salt Lake City Kotei: June 26th. And Gen Con. There are a few more up in the air, though. I'll be at San Diego Comic Con, but I don't think I'm going to get a spot on the floor. When I sent in my paperwork, they told me there was a four-year wait. So unless some other artist wants to share or sell their space, I'll be attending as a regular jerk.

On to artwork!

First, I will lay to rest the rumors that I lost a licorice whip duel to the death with AEG's resident samurai, and thus am not alive enough to contribute artwork to Legend of the Five Rings. (As always, sketches, commentary, merch, and whatnot in the gallery page. Just click. You know you want to. Everyone is doing it.)

And, I am giddy as a schoolgirl with a liquor lollypop at the tidal wave of requests I've had from Magic players to post the new Friday Night Magic Bloodbraid Elf, and the Rise of the Eldrazi artwork. So here you are, my sorcerous darlings.

If you're not already part of my mailing list, shame on you. Email me and become an official Beloved Minion. (Beloved Minions get two-for-one drinks at select bars in the afterlife.)