Originally published at benchiladaland. You can comment here or there.

QUESTION:

Who out there actually knows what a reasonable commission cost would be? My art may not be fancy-as-fuck, but it’s still worth more than a plugged nickel. I have no idea why I said that.

Anyroad, it’s about time I start selling some, and working in larger formats. I figure somebody out there would “enjoy” having some of my “art.” Especially my larger art, although my small stuff I’d sell for a few bucks.

Any input–here, on FB, or via email–would be greatly appreciated.

Here, have some strange art, the eyestrich and…fuck if I know.

Eye Ostrich

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eye Tentacle Face Man in Puddle Water Drawing
Love,

benjamin

BONUS: What happened when I put the eyestrich through Paint.net’s auto-correction:

Eye Ostrich Auto Adjustment

Originally published at benchiladaland. You can comment here or there.

I was talking to Nadja about how hard it is to get back into a groove of doing art, and she told me to draw a peacock.

I asked if it should be me trying to draw from photo reference or my usual “what does a peacock look like in my head” method?

We decided that I should do the latter and then the former.

After I did the latter, we decided that perhaps the former was a bad idea.

Peacok Illustration

I’d explain why he has a mouth, but…non, je ne regrette rien.

Love,

benjamin

Originally published at benchiladaland. You can comment here or there.

Many years ago I wrote this story.
My brother Matthew reminded me that I wrote it and a few others.

I need to write more.


I’m not certain what to do with it. You see, in one of the boxes that my grandfather left behind was a strange gun, rounded and very rusty. It weighs several pounds and has knobs and dials along the side. If you put your ear against it, you can hear it quietly humming, and on its side is a dark and cracking piece of masking tape, upon which is written “Disintegrator Gun: still dangerous.”

My grandfather worked in a granary since the day he turned twelve and didn’t learn to read until his was forty-five. According to my mother, he’d never been able to change a lightbulb without blowing a fuse. He couldn’t have invented this, it’s too complex to be a toy, and it seems unlikely that a man who spent most of his life hip-deep in feed corn would have ever been in a situation to stumble upon something like this.

So where did it come from? I don’t know, but it’s sitting on my desk now. Every time I bring it close to my laptop, the LCD starts flowing and the fans start spinning faster. My cat’s hair stands on end when she gets too close. I set it next to a fountain pen which promptly started leaking ink out of its tip. If I hold it near my head, my fillings ache.

If I hold it in my hand, I feel like the most powerful man in the world.

It’s like a little boy’s dream come true, but I can’t bring myself to so much as touch the trigger. I thought of testing it in on a rock in the back yard, but what if it’s got a really wide beam, or punches a hole in the ground the size of an SUV? What if it explodes in my hand? What if it does nothing?

So for now it sits on my desk, all but begging me to pick it up.

“Be a superhero,” it whispers.

“Be a villain,” it suggests.

“Be whatever you want, so long as you use me to do it.”

I know that I’ll break down soon. I’ll use it on a tree or a wall, a car or a criminal, on a bank or on myself. But I’ll use it.

And I’ll never stop.

 

Originally published at benchiladaland. You can comment here or there.

Less than a month since last time! I’m doing better with my art.

I’m excited about a slow-build of new energy, but am still stuck on the format for two of my comics–one Fuckbrain Comix, one about something else–but it’s time for me to say screw it and just start.

In the mean time, please look at the sort of things I draw when I’m trying to “brainstorm” or “just draw shit.”

Anyways, here’s one, and four more behind the jump.

Giraffe

CLICK BELOW FOR THE REST:

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Originally published at benchilada. You can comment here or there.

It looks like this lady is daring you to say something about her wardrobe choice - McCall's Needlework Magazine

“Go ahead. Make a comment about my clothing. Am I coming on to you or setting you up for a thrill kill? Oh, you don’t like the odds? Bye bye, then. Coward.”

January 2016

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