Saturday, May 06, 2006

The Old Pensioner

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It's embarrassing to come over here and find him waiting for us, posing like that. He takes himself so seriously now. He thinks he looks regal. It's so sad.

16 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey Jim,
Great to be able to see more of your work. I truly love it...though this frog reminds me of myself, and i feel ashamed...

11:15 PM  
Blogger Elliot Cowan said...

Jim Woodring!
How nice of you to join us!
I will be back often.

1:43 AM  
Blogger Jarred McGinnis said...

Ahh. Another wonderful serindipidous find from the internets. This little flickering screen before me has once again provided me with what I didn't know I was seeking.

I hope you keep up the blogging. I will definitely make a return visit.

j

4:00 AM  
Blogger Tabuena arts central said...

Awesome!Fantastic!Over the top..cool talent!
cheers!

8:16 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hello Jim,

This is Ian, who interviewed you for my podcast months back. I am very happy to see that you have entered the blogosphere. Welcome!

10:30 AM  
Blogger John Reppion said...

Great to see you blogging Mr. Woodring.
Your work is beautiful, as always, and we will definitely be back for more!

John & Leah

3:01 PM  
Blogger GK said...

i will follow up this blog like a stalker!

3:51 PM  
Blogger Jeff said...

I greatly admire your work! Thanks for jumping in and rippling the waters.

9:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

This piece is beautiful!

9:53 PM  
Blogger Antonio Fabela said...

beautiful work as usual Jim!

8:39 AM  
Blogger MitchellNertz said...

I particularly enjoyed the presence of vomerine teeth in this illustration....

THAT is detail!

8:59 AM  
Blogger CAIO NERY FILHO said...

Hey Jim,

love your work...

especially the sketch book... hehehe

[]´s

11:18 AM  
Blogger Sedef Ozge said...

Mr. Woodring, you are admirable!

11:31 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

OH WOW!!!
Thank you for your work...thank for your blog!!!!!!
frank is an inspiration for me

1:48 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

As a kid I was so fascinated with art I could tell who drew anything. I wrote a letter of praise to Gaspar Saladino, an artist so mule steady and legible I prefered his lettering in comic books to any others in the 60's and early 7o's.

He's the reason Jimmy Olsen was better than Lois Kane when you really think about it.

After many decades of obsessed and driven study, analysis and memorizing, I finally mutated into a real vile social creature. I was so hungry to see great art that I was infuriated into unmanaged anger on the sight of any more bad art.

I came to believe this ws some holy path for me with all this energy to follow but my instincts were wrong.

Instead, I evolved into a walking talking mobile injury to anything of merit I looked directly at. With all my icredible good taste I was still only the monkey with a gun.

I would stare at something and 'decentralize' it, not regarding it as a whole but rather a collection of practiced cons and bluffs tossed together procdureally. That way, instead of 'hearing' the artwork speak with it's own single voice, my simplest drunken gaze butcher charted it into thoughtless little examples of pop art, vulnerable to judgement and condemnation.

For example if I look at a beautiful painting of Christ, my mind worries what it really is and by the time I have focussed completetly in, it turns out that it isn't a painting of Christ at all but rather a silhouette of Christ composed of stitched-together rats and vermin.

My gaze dissolves these stitches and the whole thing decomposes into a hill of rats and bugs running away and laughing. Unleashed upon by these sensibilities, the world is a little worse for my viewing.

So I still like art and all, but the real reason I wrote in is because of TV.

Last night they had this magician David Blaine on TV. He was trapped in a sphere of water and was going for the world record in holding your breath.

The nerve. The money. Before it even started I already figured out how to do it and pretty cheap. He's pocketing the rest.

Okay, they have these tiny scuba tanks bout half the size a baby's fist. They must be filled with oxyen and swallowed into the stomach with the needed precalibrations to generate enough oxygen outspill through hoses still hanging out the mouthdfor secret breathing. These hoses are then expertly rolled, snipped and hidden in the mouth to permit dialogue. A tongueswitch starts the oxygen going and voila'.

An old Bastard trick.

Knowing this, I ask you you just what would be be the funniest way for things to go wrong?

3:38 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

that thing's got a thing on it's head...a cute thing.

4:38 PM  

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