The Bunny Gun Amendment

Digital Illustration
Archival Print
2009

Thin Blue Rage view 2

Digital illustration
Archival Print
2009

The Thin Blue Rage View 1

2009
Digital illustration
Archival Print

Revisiting old work

Or get off the pot.

Lino.

I think it was 2003. Might have been 2004. Not gonna tell you how few were actually created.
Just colored this weekend, in 2009.

More fun shit soon.

Time is short. No matter what they say. Get it fucking done.
It works when you have a deadline. Yes?

Get it fucking done.

The Wait

Second in series illustrating a real life process and story.

©2009 You steal it, I'll kill you dead with bug spray.

The News is Bad

Illustrating a process and real life story. 

First in a series. 

If you plan to swipe this image for what ever crazy reason you thieves have, keep in mind, this image has been altered and is not true to the original. (Take that you mofos.)

Pink Buddha Babyheads: Appearance 1

PinkBuddhababyheads: Appearance 1
Collaboration project
June Choi - photographer
Terri Lloyd - pink buddha and babyhead creator

All photos © 2009 June Choi Photography
Do not steal or reproduce without express written permission.


June and I have talked about working together on a collaborative project for years. She being a professional photographer and me being a professional art director type of person. Only we've never had a commercial project that demanded need or had a budget that included both of us. Such as it is.

I have been creating babyhead flowers for years. One of my strange recycling absurdist projects. It started when the internet boomed and every ISP was sending out free disks. I decided to keep the disks and use them. Included in this recycled absurdity is also a huge collection of wine corks. I also collect beer caps for a large mosaic (16 x 20 feet) that I will one day execute. Such as it is with my obsessions.

In 2006 there was opportunity to include the babyheads with a solo show of mine. At that time June and I discussed the possibility of taking my babies on the road and doing some crazy photo projects. Two years later, essentially unemployed, we are finally getting this story on the road and then some.

The shoot was supposed to take place in another location. June had asked if I had a big fuzzy pink robe and maybe a shower cap. I don't have the fuzzy pink robe, but assured her that I did have some wacky pajamas with a pink robe. As I was digesting the costume for the shoot, it occurred to me that I had seen some very large Buddha head masks in Chinatown. I make note of things I find visually interesting. One never knows when one will be needing such things for a project. And with us, anything might be project worthy.

In my mind I could see how a big pink head, Buddha's head, would take the concept to the next level of absurdity. It also plays right in visually with the babyhead flowers who sport bindi's.

What transpired are the images you see. It's amazing what happens to a person when they get to wear a new persona and jammies in public.

June art directed this shoot, and I think she did a bang up job (speaking as an art director me self.)

Compassion: Ekstasis

Eckstasis
2009
Digital illustration
Image size 36 x 48 inches

$5000

From the Compassion Series.

Listening to Karen Armstrong and Bill Moyers discuss her latest work on the topic of compassion and what religion is really about, there were statements observed and noted which moved me into developing a long digested project of compassion.

In this particular discussion Armstrong made the statement of compassion being the ability "to see others in a way that affirms the other's choice." That one must put aside self, ego, to actually understand the other. She went on further to say that compassion was a practice.

In my own experiences with compassion, I have learned that this is not an easy task. That compassion is often confused with empathy, sympathy, and even pity. And while some of these things may apply to the process of moving toward compassion, they are not acccurate. Compassion requires that one go to places they may not find comfortable at all, ever. It sometimes require action, action that one may not be comfortable initiating. Compassion forces our own systems of believe and understanding aside.

This is not to say that in the understanding comes agreement. It is as Armstrong says, "affirmation of the other's choice."

For me then the question became, what would this look like? How would I illustrate or tell the story of the practice of compassion?

The answer was to think about putting oneself into the other's shoes. Not always an easy or comfortable task.

For me when the concept of shoes arrived, it made sense to line those shoes with cactus. The very nature of cactus, how and where it grows lent itself to the practice of compassion. The handling and harvesting of the fruits of cactus is indeed a tricky process and task. Yet, here is this plant that can thrive, blossom, and bear a sweet and delicious fruit under extremes of circumstance, environment. To me, this was a fantastic metaphor for the practice of compassion.

Choosing shoes that represented social status, costumery, as well as portrayed obvious discomfort was important. As discussed with Moyers and Armstrong, we are a culture that lacks compassion on many levels. It became apparent that this could not be demonstrated with a comfortable or practical walking shoe.

The prickly pear (tuna) became the appropriate reward for the practice of compassion. It's very structure and nature does not make for easy consumption at all, yet the reward is so sweet. But even as one peels the outer spines away to get to the sweet flesh of the fruit, one is confronted with the presence of many, many seeds. Again another lesson, another task, in the cycle of practice, compassion.

The Greek words all represent different aspects of compassion, and are biblical as well.

Supatheo: to suffer with

Metriopatheo: who can bear gently with

Ekstasis: putting yourself behind, without ego.


As with all my work, this one has been uploaded with a watermark, and intended flaws for security. Each work is a singular piece with only one fine art giclee print produced. After which the original file is compressed and archived. Each piece is signed uniquely by, me, the artist. If you find this image on the market for sale by anyone other than myself or a reputable museum or gallery (officially representing me), the work is not valid and counterfeit.

June 75-09

Nero dances now
but the city always burns
Grandma turns 75 only once
this life

Brothers conspired appearances
generate pleasant surprises

time a web frozen
in a dna strand

how many names
and dots connected
this weekend

by this family

at this time

in this
moment

Vessels

Vessels
2009

40 x 50

Digital Illustration

I created this in response to the atrocities I've been witnessing via the internet towards women as a result of war. War in Afghanistan, Iraq, Central and South America, Africa. Atrocities of rape. Rape of female babies and little girls and grown women. Gang rapes. Rapes so vicious the reproductive organs are completely destroyed by the abuse inflicted.

The intent of this atrocity is taught by places like WHINSEC and other schools of assassins around the globe. The intent is to destroy, wipe out the society being victimized. A guaranteed permanent destruction of the society by destroying the girls and women. Genocide paid forward.

This imposed by men who create war. Men who create and design weapons of destruction. Men who teach atrocities. Men who crave power. Men who thrust and impose their power by the taking of what isn't theirs to begin with.

Men who were born from their mother's loins and wombs.

As with all my work, only one fine art print --giclee-- will be printed and framed. It will be signed uniquely by me. There will never be another like it. The digital file will be compressed and archived. If decided at a later date, the only reproductions generated will be a limited run of lithographs out of my studio, approved by me with a special mark from my studio only. If you find this image or any other images of mine for sale outside of a reputable gallery or museum, it is counterfeit.

The image is purposefully lighter than the original and contains flaws for copyright protection.

The Smell of Armageddon is Barbecue

how many times, Lord
does the heathen child have to knock
to open heaven's door?

will you open up your gates to this one
who seeks without the constraint
of Pharasees blinders
gags and restraints?

I am the child who is unafraid to dive
into the abyss and darkeness of your
labyrinth of brambles and thorns
misinformation that generates an inferno

of burning embers and flesh
a phosphoric rage that rips and tears
all promise from a mother's breast and womb
and empties a father's heart

as your revelation comes to those displaced
from your promised land
the feral dogs feasting upon the cache
of collateral damage
while the stench of raw sewage perfumes
the gates of your city

yet a familiar memory marks the background
as the fires burn
this heathen child is reminded through
those that proselytize for you,
dear Lord, that the smell of armageddon
is that of American Barbecue

The Dream of Sparrows

The Dream of Sparrows

Many years ago when I was in my youth
sometime between naive and thirty
I had a dream

I remember the images
having a surreal focus to them
like a vintage lenticular postcard

the colors crisp and sharp with a Winter light
that can only be replicated
with a cannabinoid molecule
passing the blood brain barrier

I was the observer
as if in a meditative or journalistic state
waiting from a not so distant future

Today my husband called me from his job installing temporary electric for tradeshows. A guy named Ted was talking about robotic drones. A new video game of war they say. Technology so cheap the real threat and perhaps promise is that everyday Joe can manufacture it at home.

I am standing on the hills
hills that divide a culture
between the Valley
and the Basin
in this place called Los Angeles

it used to be said
there was no culture here
in truth there are many

now I see them
they swarm in the light
fast and brilliant reflecting prisms
coming up from the valley floor

could these be small metallic birds
as they jet past my head
into the abyss
behind me to god knows where

Ted tells my husband the drones used today are actually operated remotely from locations within the states. A soldier, can sit in an office on a base somewhere in comfort and operate his robotic killing machine in Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Somalia, or elsewhere. He can then go home at the end of his shift to his wife and kids. Ted says these guys suffer a higher rate of post traumatic stress disorder than the guys in theatre, the official term for being in combat.

I wonder at the robotic sparkle
of these synthetic avians
that have populated the cyan canopy

they are the Sparrows
I note to no one out loud
off to sing a swan song
Operation Capistrano
I don't don't know for whom or where

I do know it has begun

Ted is confident in it's robotic drone technology as a mechanism for peace. Ted says it's a standoff tactic. Ted believes that since the technology is so inexpensive and everyone has (the possibility of access to) it then no one will use it, like the bigger nukes. Ted tells my husband this. I say to my husband that this is nonsense and naive. All one has to do is look at a country's world view or foreign policy to see the flaw in this thinking. Take a look a the Wild West where everyone had a gun. Did that stop lawlessness or killing? Does it now? Does the Nonproliferation Act stop rogue countries from developing nuclear weapons? No. Ted is an idiot.

It has begun.

Terri Lloyd now showing at Lark Gallery Online

More blatant self-promotion. Yeah, if I don't toot my own horn (here pull my finger) who will? Oh sure, like YOU'RE going to do this stuff for me. Right. And I've got some land I can sell you just west of Marina Del Rey, real cheap too.

Lark Gallery.

Dr. Phil Save Us From Ourselves

To enlarge image, simply tap it.


Dr. Phil Save Us From Ourselves
2007-2008

48 x 36”
Digital Illustration

Background:
Being fascinated by television pop-psychology and the self-help movement, I have watched Dr. Phil (and others) for years. At first I was enamored with his down-home no-nonsense approach and “Philisms,” those hokey folksy quips of wisdom imparted to his guests with a tactless Texan style.

Underneath that persona of direct, sometimes confrontational tactic of getting real, there was always something nagging at me. That something smelled of an agenda. It was subtle at first. But over the years it had dropped it’s hints, let it’s guard down some. Perhaps it got lazy. Or arrogant. I guess it depends on which side of the paranoia you sit upon.

My suspicions culminated in validation all in one week. I was viewing an episode regarding a young confused girl (18 or 19 years old) who had run off with a boy from Palestine, to Palestine. This intrigued me deeply since it seemed to have come right from a classic work of literature. I was interested in how they would portray this Romeo and Juliette romance. We all know how the original ended.

Right on cue, as if from FOX news, Palestine Romeo was illustrated as an abusive obsessive Moslem who believed he owned this girl. While the blonde haired blue-eyed American Juliette was portrayed as his victim. Although she wasn’t all that innocent, as it turned out, and not quite the victim. More like a spoiled entitled brat who decided to punish her family because they actually were concerned about a relationship that was long distance, had online origins, big cultural and religious differences. (I could go on about bigotry, fear and politics, but won’t.) Not the best start for a relationship, but hey, they were young and dumb and rampant with hormones.

Palestine Romeo and American Juliette were talked in to breaking up on air. Palestine Romeo was visibly distraught. Shakespeare couldn’t have written better television.

At the end of the show American Juliette was asked to admit that she had moved on and was dating a new beau. Dr. Phil called the new fellow in her life a “good ol’ American boy.” I almost fell over. This reeked of anti-Islamic/pro-Zionist propaganda.

A day or two later, while channel surfing, I stumbled upon Dr. Phil again. This time out of context on another channel. I paused to hear what it was the good Doc was discussing and glory hallelujah! Dr. Phil was sharing a TBN (trinity broadcasting network) stage with the Mega-church Bishop TD Jakes. He managed to pick his words wisely, but it all came home. Everything made sense. My suspicions about an agenda had been validated.

About the work:
In Dr. Phil Save Us From Ourselves, the audience is enticed by the sound bytes emanating from America’s best friend, the television. The words spoken from the television are actually a quote from Dr. Phil regarding wearing a social mask. Leaving us to ask, “What mask does the doctor wear? Is what we see the real Phil or is it something else?”

Dr. Phil claims frequently that he didn’t just fall off the turnip truck, (meaning that he isn’t stupid). Yet we see the television is offering the audience one of those proverbial turnips. Is this advertising? Or did we, the audience, just fall off the turnip truck?

Here, the audience are two goats. This is a pun that plays with the mythology of goats eating up everything, including tin cans and that if the audience were Christian, they’d be sheep. But because of my own cynicism, I find the American television viewing audience more akin to goats than sheep.

The hot air balloon perhaps represents the good doctor’s social mask, his persona. Upon closer review of the balloon, one notices a rope and anchor. The anchor is actually a Christian symbol. This pun is obvious and needs no explanation.

The bird is an American robin. Again a pun, Phil McGraw’s wife is named Robin.

Above the balloon is the text, “Turn on. Tune in. Get real.” This is a juxtaposition on the words made famous by 1960s acid guru Timothy Leary and television culture. “Get real” is a standard Philism.

Inciting the goddess

This image was created for !Presente!, the newspaper of the movement to close the School of the Americas, now called WHINSEC. It's the place where the US Government trains assassins and other criminals of humanity.

I was asked to illustrate an image for an article discussing how militarization abuses gender through partriarchal violence against the female. A tactic to destroy tribes, communities, and civilizations. It's a global issue and plays a prominent role in the history of this country too. The article is to be written by a member of the group Incite.

What we wanted was not to portray the women affected by SOA or WHINSEC as victims. In fact, these women are resisting the dogs of war and like women around the globe, when a group of us get together to accomplish something, there is nothing more beautiful or more powerful in all of god's creation. (If there is a god at all... that's still an open question for me.)

The image is an inconic propaganda statement illustrating the resistance of women against conquest --political, religious or gender.

The circle of female forms is a hybrid of the “circle of friends” pottery of Mexico and Pre-Columbian Art / Tlatilco Sculpture of a Woman. The concept was to use a goddess type of icon (similar to the neolithic Venus of Willendorf) representative of the peoples directly affected by WHINSEC. By using an ancient goddess icon, we are challenged to remember that before there was patriarchy, there was reverence for the earth, the mother, the goddess.

There are five figures in the circle of goddesses. They represent the five universal tribes/colors of people (pink, yellow, red, brown, black).

The winged heart relates directly to the Cheyenne proverb, text in Spanish and English. The wings are modeled after the wings of the Macaw. An endagered bird of Amazonia, prized by the pet trade for it’s personality and colors. A similar fate of all that is considered a natural or marketable resource in the region south of the US border.

It is the determination and power of the women, working together as mother, sister, daughter, grandmother, wife and friend that keeps the wolves (dogs of war, militarization) at bay and heart a float.

And as with everything else on this here little old blog, this image is protected under copyright laws. ©2007 Terri Lloyd

Gallery Direct Featured Artist of the Month

In case you didn't read the sneak peak article in an earlier post, you can read it here.

INTERVIEW

The Gallery Direct Art Community is home to working artists from all over the world. Within this community you will find artists working in all medias who take pride in the work they produce. Their aim is to bring together exceptional artists of all disciplines so the visitor can learn more about artists within their community as well as a means to contact the artist and purchase art to add to their collection.

Gallery Direct NEVER takes ANY commissions from artist sales!

Pretty darn cool, eh?

So what are you waiting for? Tap that link and take a look!

Brand 36: Works on Paper

The Mommy's Curse (see Dec. 16 '06 post) will be showing at the Thirty-Sixth Annual National Juried Exhibition of Works on Paper.
SECRETS & CONFESSIONS: Those which you do not wish to say out loud.
October 6 through November 16, 2007
Brand Library Art Galleries
1601 West Mountain Street
Glendale, CA 91201

Reception and Awards Ceremony October 6, 4 pm until 7 pm
Brand 36

SPONSORS: Associates of the Brand Library and Art Center and the Glendale Public Library, a department of the City of Glendale. The Brand Library Art Galleries offer visitors a professional gallery experience and showcase works by established and emerging artists that educate, enlighten, challenge and enrich people’s lives.

JUROR: Lita Albuquerque completed the largest environmental work ever done on the Antarctic continent, Stellar Axis: Antarctica, through the National Science Foundation Artists and Writers Grants Program in December 2006. Other site specific environmental works which have garnered much critical and public acclaim include: Sol Star at the 1996 Sixth International Cairo Biennale, Cairo, Egypt; Spine of the Earth at El Mirage Dry Lake Desert, CA for the Public Broadcasting System and KCET TV’s Artworks/Earthworks documentary aired in May 1990; and the Washington Monument Project in 1980 funded by the International Sculptural Conference, Washington, DC. Albuquerque has exhibited her works at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Le Musee d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris, the Santa Monica Museum of Art, the Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles, the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, the San Diego Museum of Art, the New York Academy of the Sciences and the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden. Additional information about Lita Albuquerque can be found at http://litaalbuquerque.com and http://stellaraxis.com.

Little Pig's Great Escape

The following is based on real events. It is now being worked into a children's book with illustrations by the author. That would be moi. Please read it aloud to your wee ones.


He never did say exactly where it was that he was from. You see, he just showed up one Spring morning, right there in the garden under the monkey ball tree. The little guy made a small home in between the Sea Lavender and the grass, in the shade.

I called him Little Pig. He wasn’t really a pig like the kind you see on the farm. He was actually a small furry creature, not as big as a cat, but quite a bit larger than a mouse. A Guinea pig.

I don’t know why they are called Guinea pigs. Perhaps it is because of the squeaky “wee, wee, wee” sound they make when hungry, excited or very, very scared.

He didn’t mind my naming him Little Pig. He seemed to like being the smaller version of something much larger.

Little Pig made himself right at home. He dined on the grass in the front yard. And on special occasions, we’d find him in the backyard enjoying dinner in the vegetable garden.

Every morning Little Pig would sit on the lawn and talk with Icky, the oldest cat in the yard. And then, every afternoon, Little Pig would have a visit with Cosmo, the second oldest cat in the yard. I would often see them chatting on the brick steps that lead the way to the lawn and basement. They had become good friends.

One day, sometime between the end of Summer and the beginning of Autumn, everything changed. While Cosmo and Little Pig had been having their afternoon chats on the brick steps, in the front yard, someone else had been watching them. Young Lady Hawk, up above the telephone pole, in the way up high pine tree.

She first spotted them from her parent’s nest, when she was a small bird who could only wish about having a Little Pig of her own -for dinner. Now she just might be large enough to catch herself a delicious little meal.

On this day she waited and waited. Sure enough, right on time and as usual, Little Pig and Cosmo met on the brick steps near the lawn. Young Lady Hawk gave them just enough time to start their daily chat. She spread her wings and then dove straight down, silent and fast. At the very last minute she reached her claws out and WHOOSH! She grabbed Little Pig by the shoulders and was off. Well, sort of.

Cosmo couldn’t believe what he was seeing. There was no time to think about what to do next. He reached up and grabbed the hawk by the tail. She was too fast and slipped through his paws.

Little Pig was very scared. “Help me! Help me! WEE! WEE! WEE!”

Little Pig was on his own and didn’t know what to do. This was a big bird with big wings and big claws. And he was just a little pig. Or so he thought.

You see, over the summer Little Pig had enjoyed many delicious and special meals. Eating well, he grew quite large and heavy. Little Pig didn’t have to do anything. His weight was pulling them back down toward the ground.

Okay, not quite the ground. About the time Little Pig realized that they weren’t flying up, but sinking down, he heard a huge THUMP! And for just a second, everything went dark.

Little Pig and the hawk slammed right into the neighbor’s roof! It startled and embarrassed the hawk so much that she let go of Little Pig and flew off.

Little Pig was taking no chances. He ran down the roof and jumped off. Right into the yard of two large and hungry dogs. Dogs that who had been watching and thought that maybe they could have a little pig treat for dinner.

Little Pig landed right between the two of them. But these two dogs weren’t fast of motion and they weren’t fast of brain.

First the big brown dog barked, “I’ve got him!” Then the striped dog barked, “No! I’ve got him!” They barked back and forth about who would get Little Pig first. While the two dogs argued, Little Pig ran between their paws and through a just big enough opening in the fence.

He ran down the sidewalk, jumped off the curb and across the street.

I called to him, “Little Pig!”

He paused once to look back up the hill. Cosmo and I waved, Little Pig turned and ran down the hill. He then turned right on the Boulevard and was gone.

We never saw him again.

© 2007 Terri Lloyd

Are you bleeding?

Question:Where is a cop when you need one?
Answer: Not in LA.

9 hour concert level battery.
Full frontal assault.
There’s no escape.
Can’t drive. Had a drink.

Simple math and science.
Increasing decibels equal to
or greater than ethanol consumed.

Not mine, theirs.

By-product permeates walls,
conversation, flesh and bones.
Turn on all appliances, television, stereo.
There’s no escape “Muthafuckah.”

What would happen if they knew
they aren’t hip or cool
only consumptive sheep.
A product of marketing.
No individuality just mediocrity.

Thought passes quickly
next round loaded, be-otch.
Show me what you working with.

Working on nine hours, muthafuckah.
Grinding down the last
rational nerve. Yo!

Call local police desk.
Listen to them laugh.They know.
System is a joke.
“Hang in there,” they say.
Jerk a knot your noose.

Call communications desk.
Police lingo. You hate lingo.
It separates. Infuriates.

Called FOUR TIMES.
On hold 20 minutes or more.
Times FOUR.

Is this the DMV?

Weekend before the 4th
of July. Oh. Okay, fine.
Thanks. Please come again.
Have a nice day.
Hang in there, baby.

Here’s a joke:
How many hours does it take
to get a cop in LA?
Answer:
Are you bleeding?

Nine hours.
And no, as a matter of fact,
I don’t want to
lean like a cholo.

Thinking of a word. Endure.
Thinking of Iraq.
The image of two vultures talking.
Patience my ass.

If I were a terrorist,
I’d work the weekends.
Holiday weekends. In LA.
No cops. A martyr’s dream.

How many virgins would I get?
I hate Madonna.

The phone rings.11:30.
Hello LAPD.
Does the problem persist?
Raging like Burning Man.
Unit on the way.

I used to believe in the tooth fairy.

Midnight, wishing there was an oasis.
Unit? What unit?
Sound is insanity. White heat.
Serotonin overload. Synapses misfiring.
Madness, pure fucking madness.

Snoring. Exhausted sleep.
Cat snores too. They sleep.
Anger rises, red and hot.
Ahimsa. Do no harm.
But I want to kill. Really I do.

Pick up phone.
Non-emergency dispatch.
Communications desk was it?
12:18. Still on hold.
Pour a glass of wine.

12:37. Wine gone.
Will wonders ever cease?
Some one answers.
Communications Desk was it?

Unit dispatched.
That was 11:30. Clock says 12:40.
Oh, I get it. Say one thing
and do another.

I hate liars. LAPD.

1:00 am. Off.
Question: Where’s that unit?
Answer: Are you bleeding?

Baptism

Artist friend,

Barbara Horosko Nichols

asked me if I got baptised. She's about as freaked out as I am about church, god, and rituals. My response:

Yeah, the weasles did. They got all three of us before we could walk or talk. Did it in the "church of the makerel snappers." That's what my grandfather used to call the catholics. Makerel Snappers. Jeez. (Friday fish, no meat. Even the schools did that. Fish stick Friday.)

So, they even got us a cute little outfit, a silver cup and a church certificate that says the Makerel Snappers have first dibs on our wretched souls. Like I'm going to need documentation to get into Heaven. If there is such a joint. Actually my chances of going to the joint are far better than getting into the bureaucrazy of Jahaysus.

My Biological Clock

My biological clock


It ticked


It tocked


The alarm went off


And I hit snooze

A Majestical Night Indeed

Success is often equated with wealth, prosperity or status. To some extent I agree, but I also find that success is also defined as the achievement of an aim or purpose. And it is this definition that I use to define the opening reception of Form and Disfunction this past Saturday.

Yeah, sure, it’s all about me and my event. I make no apologies for that. But don’t jump ship just yet. The truth is it isn’t really about me and my shenanigans. It’s about the collaborative spirit, the joy and grace that each of the players brought to this event. The culmination of which was a darn good time, as I saw it... through the bottom of my wine glass.

The evening was staged in a courtyard, a secret garden if you will, off Fair Oaks and Holly coddled by the worn brick backsides of various shops, restaurants, and offices. Accented by twinkle lights and vines, the scent of wood burning ovens and garlic set the Pasadena Boho tone. (I can’t believe I just wrote that!)

Singer-Songwriter,

Chris Burgan

provided the live soundtrack for the evening. He was the perfect compliment to the quirky jalapeno energy I bring. Everyone liked his git and throat. I particularly like his sensibility, and his sensitivity.

The mix of people was a eclectic as it gets. From hippies to square dancers,

bloggers

and in-laws, and everything in between, the night was filled with pleasant surprises and exchanges.

One of the high points for me was when I glanced across the courtyard to see two of my dearest friends, Ed and Damion from Cambria, standing next to my husband with shit eating grins on their faces. They had made the 5 hour drive, just to freak me out. They laughed hysterically, as little brothers do when they’ve pulled off a great practical joke when my jaw hit the ground as I exclaimed “Oh MY GOD!” My boys stayed until 10 pm and then drove back up to the Central Coast. I’ve got some great people in my life.

Much love and praise to the Majestical Roof team for graciously hosting this bull-in-a-china-shop and her posse of freaks, family and friends. Their open spirit makes everyone and anyone feel welcome in their space.

Propaganda III World Tour 2007

Terri Lloyd Now Showing in:

PROPAGANDA III: WORLD TOUR 2007

Propaganda

PROPAGANDA III will tour the globe through 2008, with dozens of one day art shows worldwide - the current schedule includes stops throughout north america, south america, australia, asia, europe, and the middle east. NO art will be sold at any of the shows, although copies of the posters will be available for sale directly through the websites of participating artists. This is NOT a commercial art show, but rather a celebration of free speech + untrammeled freedom of expression. PROPAGANDA III opens in San Francisco on July 4, 2007. The exhibition will travel the world for at least one year, adding posters throughout the tour. The PROPAGANDA III show will close in San Francisco sometime in late 2008.

The final collection will be donated to the Center for the Study of Political Graphics in Los Angeles. With over 50,000 posters, the CSPG archive is the largest collection of Post World War II graphics in the United States, and we are absolutely honored that the posters from PROPAGANDA III will have a permanent home following the world tour.

See the collection here:

Propaganda Gallery Online

Save the Sirenia

What can one say about the lack of stewardship we consumers insist upon?

By the way, Dugongs and Manatees are not Sea Cows. They are close relatives to the elephant.
The Sea Cow is extinct.

Exerpt from Wikipedia.org:

By 1768, less than 30 years after it had been discovered, Steller's Sea Cow was extinct.

Dugong are hunted for food throughout their wildlife range, usually for their meat and blubber. Also, the seagrass beds which the dugong depend on for food are threatened by eutrophication caused by agricultural and industrial runoff. Due to their shallow water feeding habits, dugong are frequently injured or killed by collisions with motor vessels. Because of their large size, they do not have many natural predators. They only have large ones such as sharks, killer whales, and saltwater crocodiles.

All three species of manatees are listed by the World Conservation Union as vulnerable to extinction, and the current main threat to manatees in the United States is being struck with boats or slashed through with their propellers. Sometimes manatees can live through strikes, and up to 50+ deep slashes and permanent scars have been observed on some manatees off the Florida coast.[2] However, many times the wounds are fatal, and the lungs may even pop out through the chest cavity [3]. It is illegal under Florida law to cause the manatees harm, up to and including death.[4]

Although manatees have no natural predators, they occasionally ingest fishing gear (hooks, metal weights, etc.) while feeding. These foreign materials do not seem to harm manatees, except for monofilament line or string. This can get clogged in the animal's digestive system and slowly kill the animal.

Manatees can also be crushed in water control structures (navigation locks, flood gates, etc.), drown in pipes and culverts, and are occasionally killed from entanglement in fishing gear, primarily crab pot float lines. Manatees are also vulnerable to red tides, blooms of algae which leach oxygen from the water.

Manatees were commonly hunted for their meat by natives of the Caribbean, although this is much less common today.[5]
On June 8, 2006, The Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission voted to reclassify the manatee on Florida's list, to a "threatened" status in that state.[6] While none of the state laws protecting manatees have changed, many wildlife conservationists are not pleased with the removal decision.[7] Manatees remain classified as "endangered" at the federal level.

While humans are allowed to swim with manatees in one area of Florida[8], there have been numerous charges of Americans harrassing and disturbing the manatees in various ways, in addition to the concern about repeated motorboat strikes causing the maiming, disfiguration and death of manatees all across the Florida coast, and this priviledge of swimming with wild manatees may be soon repealed.[9]

The population of manatees in Florida is thought to be between 2,000 and 3,000, yet population estimates are difficult. The number of manatee deaths in Florida caused by humans has been increasing through the years, and now typically accounts for 20%-40% of recorded manatee deaths.[10] In 2006 there were registered confirmed near 100 manatees in Florida killed by human activity, the majority of these, that happened to be discovered by Florida Fish and Wildlife, have been caused by boat strikes.[11]

Form and Disfuncition: The Terri Lloyd Show

The vibrant and wacky world of Pop Artist-Cartoonist, Terri Lloyd is now showing at Pasadena's most unique and socially conscious artist boutique, The Majestical Roof. A non-corporate non-formulaic location to view art, purchase high quality hand crafted gifts, t-shirts, posters and a whole lot more. Come see what all the hullabaloo is about.

March 10 through April 27, 2006.

The Majestical Roof
88 North Fair Oaks, Suite 102
Pasadena, CA 91103
(626) 844-8886

The Majestical Roof

SAVE THIS DATE:
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Reception and Shenanigans
5 p.m. until 9 p.m.

Live music, wine, snacks, poster signing, cheap lithos, t-shirts, other nefarious goodies from the revolution, lively conversation and the usual suspects. Oh, and a Q & A with the Artiste.


This ain't no LA art opening where it's cool or fashionable to be insensitive to other people's schedules. Show up late, you miss it, Bunky!

Teach A Man To Fish And He'll Eat A Tree

Teach a Man to Fish and He’ll Eat a Tree
Digital Illustration, 2007
Giclée
Edition 1/1
Image Size 36 x 24

To purchase the original giclee, please inquire via email.

This statement was originally a concept my husband Jeff had visualized while meditating. Taking the image on as my own; reflecting upon a recent viewing of works by Magritte and a lecture by Alan Watts, this became a statement about conspicuous consumption.

Puns and metaphors were put into the Cuisinart with this one. Playing with the concept that when we are being, we are actually humaning. Even more specifically, depending on gender, we are man-ing or woman-ing. Take this idea a step further when we teach a man to fish and, well, the man becomes the fish. He is now fish-ing.

Look at the state of the Environment today; global warming, extinction at the hands of man, pollution, carcinogen in the water and food chain, and consumerism winning out over citizenry. What has been accomplished by teaching man to fish?

The tree is a California Sycamore.
The fish a California Rainbow Trout.
This is intentional.

Limited edition posters (500) posters available $10 ea.

Gallery Direct Interview with Terri Lloyd

Read about your favorite madcap artiste de resistance here:


INTERVIEW

The Mommy's Curse

Digital Illustration, 2006
Image size: 34 x 50 inches
Giclee
Email for pricing


Movie poster depicting a youth at Disfunction Junction.

A revealing and sad look at how the children end up living the pain the parents inflict, willingly or unwillingly upon them.

It's an American Tradition. Don't believe me? Tune in to Dr. Phil sometime.

Here's the small print:

Another Little Bastard Love Child presents and Allsebrook-Lloyd Family Fiasco in association with Walking Wounded Inc.
music by Gary Allsebrook edited by No TLC Visual Perceptions
design by Disfunction Junction (I said it a decade before SNL ever did!)
Co-producers Sam & Carol Lloyd
Executive Producers Carleen & Stanley Allsebrook
Produced by Two Generations of Addiction & Self Loathing
Story by PTSD Group


Rated Bipolar 21

No one under 21 admitted unless accompanied by psychiatric care specialist.
Graphic scenes of violent physical and psychological abuse, neglect, and abandonment.
Compulsory long term exposure to second hand smoke. Alcohol, illegal and prescription drugs may be needed after viewing.

Rasta Jesus

Acrylic on Canvas
Circa 1992


Years ago, I got kicked out of a bible study group.

When I most needed spiritual comfort and understanding.

Christian ladies who felt I asked "too many hard questions" and was "too open to heathens and heretics."

You see, I was suicidally depressed and seeking answers.

I thought it might help me to learn about the bible.

Only these gals had an agenda. And it wasn't god's.

It was theirs.

I suggested that perhaps the Hare Krisnas were saints
because they fed the hungry for free every Sunday at their temple.

By their reaction I thought was to be burned at the stake.

Burn the witch!

Yeah, that would be me.

When I suggested that Jesus might not have blue eyes,
blond hair, and pink skin, they freaked out.

Burn the witch!

Yes, that's me.

Hey, I was just interpreting what I was reading.
Historically, geographically, this stands to reason.

Burn the witch!

Yes, me.

So they kicked me out.

Banish the witch.

That's me.

Lately, I hear a similar insanity being preached across the christian networks.

They are all selling the book of Revelations.

Oh Glory be, the Armageddon is here. The Apocalypse is Now! Hoo Wee!

We're going to heaven! Jesus is coming!

No you aren't ALL going. Only 144,000 will be chosen.

Ah the chosen people. Judgement day is everyday here in America.

And what if the name is Hay-seuss?

Not Gee-zus?

Kill them all!

Burn the witch.

It's absurd.

People eat this dung like candy.

I wonder what the godhead is thinking?

Did you hear the news about liquid explosives named "Mother of Satan?"

Come on, people!

Who writes this crap?

Spinal Tap?

I laughed so hard I cried.

Mother of God help us.

The idiots have taken over the asylum.

Burn the witch.

Primarily Ichabod

Linocut 1997

Everyone immortalized a pet.

Icky is my guy.

Walks like a lion.

Acts like a drag queen.

Whines like a little baby.

And why, oh why is it that in the middle of the longest hottest heatwave in human history, he insists on snuggling up to me as I sweat my nights away?

Christmas Bard

Digital & print gocco serigraph 2002

I love a pun. Visual or verbal.
Punish me.

Sorry. Can't help myself.

I came up with this for a holiday goodie.
Photoshop and Illustrator first.
Print Gocco for the end result.
As I recall, I used 3 plates - colors.
Print Gocco presents some challenges when it comes to process color.

End results were as expected. It got a few laughs.


Notes:
No goccos left.
If you have one, let me know. I'd like to scan it.

Haiku. Do you?

Digital & print gocco serigraph: 1999

Potato Flowers

Linocut 1996
hand colored water color
Reprints available.

Was taking two nephews to MOCA, listening to the older nephew (29) speak to the younger nephew (16) about growing up with me in the mix.

It's interesting to see yourself through the memories of someone else.

"I loved going to stay with Jeff and Terri in their loft. There was always a project going on. I'd walk in and look at something that might have been found or broken. And as soon as it was found or broken, it was dedicated to a piece of art.

You also never knew who would be there. I met a lot of other artists, writers and musicians at the loft. It was pretty cool."

Wow. I had forgotten a lot about those days. Mostly because from my perspective, they were hard times. But in they eyes of someone else, I guess they weren't.

I had forgotten about my assemblage works. I don't have any around today. Mostly gave the stuff away as gifts.
I wonder if any survived.

"Terri also used anything and everything. I remember she even used potatoes to create a series of images."

Ah yes. The potato flowers.

Originally carved from potatoes and printed on to a canvas.

Sadly the canvas image was water-based pigments and it got wet.
Beer, art, and buffoonery to blame.

I scanned the image into my computer and printed it out at twice the original size.
Then carved a lino. Each was hand-painted.

What was fun about this period of block printing is that I used whatever was laying around to print the block.
Sometimes I had ink, sometimes enamel paints, or latex. It didn't matter.

My fellow artist and friend, John Peace admired that about me. The willingness to make something with what was on hand. It was, well, artistic to him. (Thanks John!)

Funny.

I pulled Potato Flowers out of the archives recently.
I still find it naively sweet.

Poppy

digital photo 2004

Orange. I love it.

Vibrant.

Passionate joy.

I love red too.

Different vibe with red. Passionate, yes. But red is power. Red is anger. Red is love. Red can be volitile. Dangerous.

At least for me.

But Orange.
Orange is delightful.

It's magical.

It's joyful.
Optimistic.

It greets us in the morning.

Tickling us with its feathers.

Wake up sleepies.
Another day is here.

And when the day is done,
it whispers good-bye to us as the evening fades into purple.

Promising to be back again at dawn.

I like orange.

Fly-icide

digital photo 2004

They say truth is often stranger than fiction. I believe it. Sometimes weirdness is right in your own back yard.

While photographing some of my succulents and cacti in bloom, I discovered this scenario. The fly had managed to impale itself on a cactus spine. Through it's right eye.

It perplexed me.

Was this an accident?

Did the fly not see the spines?

What was the deal about how they see?

Was this intentional?

We'll never really quite know how this occurred.

Weeks later, I discovered several ladybugs who had met a similar fate.

Strange.

Linda

Photo 2004

Linda and I have a couple of running jokes between us.

One of them is "who's driving?" Based on a joke about two little old ladies who are in a car together. The passenger notices that the driver keeps running stop signs. When the driver is questioned about this she replies, "Oh. I thought you were driving."

Okay, maybe it's not THAT funny.

The other joke is about how often we get together.

Even though we email daily, live a few minutes away from each other, on the same side of town, it's a long time between visits.

At dinner a few weeks back, we were celebrating my marriage to my long time partner Jeff, we toasted to this very fact.

"It seems it takes acts of civil disobedience or civil ceremonies to get us together."

Notes:
Image taken in Hollywood, at Hollywood and Vine.
Originally a color image.

Cops 3-20

digital photo 2005

Holllywood, March 20 2005.

Caught in a fracas, I had foresight to whip out the old digital.

My group and I were marching peacefully. We had to. We had a kid with us.

(Yeah, may not have been the smartest choice. Sometimes a babysitter or the absentee dad isn't available. And just for the record, we weren't the only parents teaching their kids about civil liberties, war sucks for everyone, and peace is moral.)

It's not like we go looking for conflict.

Sometimes we simply walk right into it and it flares up around us.

That's what happened here.

The anarchists and the cops got a little, um, impatient with each other.

The next thing I knew was that there was a sea of people moving my direction, quickly.

My pals took off with the kid. It seemed unsafe. It was.

The photo I snapped after this had two cops coming at me with batons and hands ready to push.

I said, "You know, I wouldn't do that if I were you."

It's too bad THAT photo didn't come out.

Notes:
I added a little spaghetti western to this image once I was back at my computer.
It seems to accent the tension.

Consensus

Photo statement 2003

I was asked to produce or submit a piece of work for a show called Visions of Peace. The deal was the piece needed to be priced at 100 dollars or less. There were specific size dimensions. And the content must reflect how the artist was feeling toward current war events and outcomes.

Seemed easy enough.

I have a huge catalog of photos from protests attended. And I had fallen in love with the moment captured in the middle image. It was a slam dunk.


The gallery owner asked for my assistance in curating and hanging the work. We had worked together on a larger project. I brought the gallery owner in to help me. It was the biggest exhibition the gallery owner had ever curated. We worked well on this project.

I roped a friend of mine in to help us as well. There was a short window to get this show going.

It's interesting working closely with people in their own environment.
No, it's revealing.

Help turned out to be taking up a great deal our time,
most of it non-productive;

asking our advise on how to hang the art
and then ignoring it completely;

calling us at the last minute
to provide the food and drink (liquor) for the event
because she conveniently didn't have time to prepare for this aspect;

breaking the rules about submission deadlines,
size and content constraints for the chosen people
(the explanation was 'it's my space and I make the decisions around here');

and finally, the icing on the cake.
When cataloging the art, this person who had worked with my friend all day,
couldn't figure out who the artist "Monica Hernandez" was.

Monica said, "That's me."

Gallery owner says, "I just can't figure out why I don't connect you with that name."

Monica answers, "Maybe it's because I'm white."

Gallery owner says, "Oh yeah. You might be right."

This conversation was held in the presence of Monica's 7 year old daughter. A daughter who is half Mexican and half Polish.

Grown ups can be so stupid.

Dan and Sophia

Linocut 1997
Hand painted


Sophia and Dan were both damaged goods. Dan had a need to fix what was broken; to rescue the strays. It was his mission. Sophia was in desperate need of someone to love her for her, to put a band-aid on the boo-boos and make it all go away.

She wanted to date Dan --for just one night.

Something about that guy that got to her. It was often embarrassing to witness.

But, Dan had that way about him. Women were drawn to him. I'm still trying to figure it out. I think it's because he wrote and sang songs of a similar vein to Tom Waits or Chuck E. Weiss; was aloof, yet philosophical.

A cross between Maynard G. Krebs and Bukowski.

Dan-de-lion, the drunk monk.

Sophie the heroin monster.

It makes me laugh and shake my head at the same time.
I actually knew these people, quite well.

What does that say about ME?
Gadzooks.

It's not how the story starts that seems to count, but rather how it ends. Yes?

There are three photos of this moment documenting Dan and Sophia having a look-see at her, um, ample tattoo.

They knew I was photographing them. This is important to state.
Dan will tell you otherwise.

The truth is he WAS checking out her tits and tattoo.
We all had a good laugh about it at the time.
It was provocatively innocent.

A zen moment.

In the end, Dan found offense in the work and severed ties with me.
Sophia ended up in rehab, on more than one occaision; got married; had a daughter and still struggles with herself.

Goddess 37

Linocut 1999
hand colored gouache
NFS


I find most women of my generation are blessed with duality as part of our karmic path. Do we stay home, raise the kids, tend the house? Keep up appearances?

Do we "give it all up" for a career?

What are we giving up? What does it mean to have it all? Is juggling a necessary skill in order to be an effective or fullfilled woman?

Who came up with this shit? (I suspect it was some male dominated marketing firm selling panty hose... another form of modern feminine bondage.)

Or was it time to wake up me to examine and embrace myself?

Notes:
The halo is a combination of pre-Neolithic and Tibetan symbolism.
These symbols represent fertility, the goddess energy, and rebirth.
When we lift off my head and peer down my neck, we see a consistent theme throughout my adult life: an interest in Buddhism.
Do not call me a Buddhist.

Uncle Tom's Condi Rice

Digital Illustration 2006

Giclee Print
Edition 1/1
Image size: 15 x 19
Archival Framed: 29 1⁄2 x 33 1⁄2
Email for pricing info

Limited edition (500 run) posters available for $10 ea.

This pun is set against the backdrop of high ranking U.S. officials serving global corporate interest over those of the everyday American. It was transparent to me who is being served and who is being sold out. I decided to serve up a side dish of irony, some Condi Rice. Just like the minute rice product, no fiber, no substance, no nutritive value.

We wish you a Jerry Xmas and an Abbie New Year

Digital Illustration 2004
16 x 20" unframed
Giclee print
email for more info

Holiday greeting paying homage to two sides of the same coin, Abbie Hoffman and Jerry Garcia.

Abbie's image was stolen from Avedon's The Sixties. It felt right to steal the image and then make it my own. I think Abbie would have appreciated my actions.

Garcia was manifested from several images.

Additional bonus items include several quotes from Thomas Jefferson:

"Whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these means (life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness) it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it and institute a new government."

"A little rebellion now and then... is a medicine necessary for the sound health of government."

"Rebellion to tyrants is obedience to god."

The Great Vocho

Digital Illustration 2004
Giclee Print
NFS

Self portrait about what drives me.

I am interested in Buddhism. But do not call me a Buddhist.
I am interested in much about religion, philosophy and such.
But please, don't make me choose a church, or dogma, or format.

Right now what drives me is the Great Vehicle.
How you interpret that is up to you.


Background text:
Om Mane Padme Hum

Om Mani Padme Hum is the mantra of Chenrezig. In the words of Kalu Rinpoche, "Through mantra, we no longer cling to the reality of the speech and sound encountered in life, but experience it as essentially empty. Then confusion of the speech aspect of our being is transformed into enlightened awareness."

That enlightened awareness includes whatever we might need to understand in order to save any beings, including ourselves, from suffering. For that reason the entire Dharma, the entire truth about the nature of suffering and the many ways of removing it's causes, is said to be contained in these six syllables.

Om Ah Hum Vajra Guru Padma Siddhi Hum

"It is said that the twelve syllables Om Ah Hum Vajra Guru Padma Siddhi Hum carry the entire blessing of the twelve types of teaching taught by Buddha, which are the essence of His Eightyfour Thousand Dharmas. Therefore to recite the Vajra guru mantra once is the equivalent to the blessing of reciting.....or practicing the whole teaching of the Buddha.

The wisdom mind of Padmasambhava is manifested in the form of the mantra; these twelve syllables are actually the emanation of His wisdom mind, and they are endowed with His entire blessing. The vajra guru mantra is Padmasambhava in the form of sound. So when you invoke Him with the recitation of the twelve syllables, the blessing and merit you obtain is tremendous. In these difficult times, just as there is no Buddha or refuge we can call upon who is more powerful than Padmasambhava, so there is no mantra that is more fitting than the Vajra Guru Mantra."

Pook

Digital Illustration 2004
Giclee Print
email for info


Pook is a portrait of Ynez Sage Hernandez.

Ynez was always willing to take flight.
She was always willing to blow a few bubbles in the bathtub too.
Because of this, Ynez couldn't be endowed with fairy wings or butterfly wings.
She was just too earthy.

So she got moth wings.

Pook is Ynez's word for fart.

Ynez has never forgiven me for this image.

Oxy-Moron: Not a Rush to Judgement

Digital Illustration 2004
Giclee print
email for info

There's a reason why they call it dope.

When Rush LImbaugh got busted for gobbling up TENS of thousands of dollars of oxycontin and other opiodal substances, regularly, like candy, I just had to say something.

In doing the research for this work I was amazed to find that this guy point out that he believes white men who get addicted to drugs should go directly to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect 100 dollars. Just toss the key away.

Interesting.
And yet R.L. was off to rehab.

Factoids:
Wilma Kline was Limbaugh's assistant earning very little who had to make the drug buys for her employer.
Flintstone coture represents the neanderthal consciouness of the subject and his groupies.
The resemblance to a Charm's Blow Pop package is intentional.
Pain medication is often given to seriously ill children in the form of lollipops.

Bee Awake: J5MEO

Digital Illustration 2001
Giclee
email for info

There are few people who meet up with us along the path that truly live their lives with compassion; to seek pure truth; to challenge conventional wisdom; or simply moving outside of the consuming box.

Jaques Olivier is one of those people.

When I met Jacques my first thougth was, "He's the most buddhalike person I have ever met."

He is also the most psychedelic person I have met.
Yeah, sure, go ahead. Plug in that cliche image. You know the one you are thinking.

"Dirty Hippie."

And I'll tell you that you are wrong.
Because you are.

It takes courage to be a person like Jacques.

It takes faith to walk an honest path. To not get knocked out of orbit because others insist you must be a loser for chasing your dream or daring to live a gentler way.

Think about it.
How honest is your path?
I know mine varies from my truth from time to time.

I remember working at the LA Weekly. For a short time. Jacques worked there. He had given up a managerial post for less stress, more freedom. One evening there was a conversation about this particular subject. (I suspect this came up often by the way the rest of the production team seemed perplexed by Jacque's choices.)

The basic gist was about how Jacques was a fool for giving up positional power, a salary, and that whole material pursuit we are conditioned to buy into.

They couldn't get it. They saw Jacque as insane, stupid, or just plain crazy.

But which one of them was honestly following their bliss, instead of chasing a paycheck?

Notes:
Only once has this image name been exhibited correctly.
The word buddha, means "the awakened one." (You knew that, right?)
The bee represents many things, literal and figurative.
Jacques' band used a bee shaman image as it's logo.

Guilty: Compassion 215

Digital Illustration
Giclee print
NFS

Homage to Scott Imler, President of the Los Angeles Cannabis Resource Center. Scott had been the President of the Los Angeles Cannabis Resource Center and was involved with Proposition 215 (California's Compassionate Use Law).

When Mikey (previous post) told me that the LACRC was shut down by the feds and Scott was looking at multiple minimum mandatory sentencing, I was compelled to create this work.

I knew the feds would see Scott as a criminal. A dope dealer. And they pretty much judged him so with their less than ethical shutdown of the LACRC.

The only thing I could find Scott guilty of was compassion.

Notes:
Background text is the actual proposition 215.
Star and bear taken from the original state flag.
Official state colors used for "burst."
Dictionary definition of compassion wraps the star.

The Courtship of Eddie's Fodder

The Courtship of Eddie's Fodder 2001
Digital Illustration.
Giclee print.
Edition: 1/1
Email for more info.


Michael Simmons is one of my favorite writers and people in general. A little bit gonzo in both aspects.

In celebration of his wonderful spirit, this image was created as a birthday gift.
The background text is one by the subject, “How I Passed The Acid Test” and was published in a book called Psychedelic Trips For The Mind, edited by Paul Krassner.

Michael gave me a copy to read one smokey wet evening.

A wonderful serendipity since I was illustrating him at the time. He had no idea I was creating this little homage.

Yes, there is an American flag in the image. This speaks to our politics and the world around us as creative and sensitive people. Especially during these trying times.

Who's Eddie?

Well, he's Mikey's naughty -very naughty- alter ego.

Pig Bastard: Girl

Pig Bastard: Girl 2001
Digital Illustration.
Giclee print.
Not for sale.

Ever get a commission from someone who just drove you crazy?
You know the kind of person. They want you do what you do for them.
In your style. Exactly the way they tell you to do it.

And you've got to comply because, well, you are friends.

Pig Bastard: Girl, and it's sister piece, Pig Bastard: Boy, were that experience.

In an effort to keep my sanity, I asked a mutual friend to translate some of my, um, thoughts to Korean text. Okay, I admit it was revenge. My way of saying fuck you. And it did make me feel better.

But when all was said and done, the image did turn out rather lovely.

The original intent was to portray the May September relationship between the subject and his lady friend. Having just finished reading a book about Winter Solstice celebrations and then Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

It was an interesting synchronicity.

So in the spirit of the warm old year, the female subject was colored in warmer tones than the younger, newer subject. A subject that represented the new cold dark year. It seemed to fit the dynamics of this particular relationship as well. I won't bore you with the details. It would just be gossip any way.

The background text translates loosely to:
The reason I date older women is because my mother didn't spank me enough.
The three "medalions" floating in the upper left corner translate literally to Pig Bastard.