The Veil

We will never have flying cars for personal use. Of all the things we might have in the future: cyborgs, space exploration, a penchant for ridiculous fashion, we will never have flying cars. It isn't impossible to invent. It is impossible to make it safe.

We can't really have thinking robots either. Let's face it, people, it just takes one loose wire, overly logical computing assessment, or Will Smith before they go haywire. I mean, this robot chick looks nice. She's giving us some kind of weird look, but it's friendly enough.

I painted her in oils on illustration board. She's 16x19. But like I said, just one solar flare later she's opening air locks and flooding the enrichment center with a deadly neurotoxin.

Busy Bee

I have gifts for you today! Everyone look under your chair! Now look back at the screen. Let's pretend you weren't already looking at the screen before you read that last message. Now look at all the pretty progress pics I have! First off, I have the 1980's love-child of Madonna and Molly Ringwold:



I know I've said that every painting goes through an ugly stage, but this is more of a 'kill it with fire' stage.

I tapped into my inner Breakfast Club, and dance-montaged my painting away. At the end of the three minutes and thirty-eight seconds it took for "We Are Not Alone" to finish wailing, I had gotten this much done:


It is amazing what you can do when you set down the paints and dance. I call her "Girl with the Pearl Eye."

I liked the creepy way her milky eye stared into my soul, but my sister (the gracious model) came in and told me to finish it. I resisted, but she dragged me into her office and told me I was a punk and dared me to hit her. So I got back to work.


I was going to finish here, but something felt off. I needed to have an emotional outpouring and fall for the innocent prudish girl. Which is painter-code speak for 'do the hair.'


And that ends my first day of painting on 'Future Girl,' also known as, 'The Painting I Will Re-name Because Future Girl is Dumb.' After a good six hours and the realization that prudish girls put out too, I put on my leather gloves and headed to the nearest football field for some hardcore freeze-frame fist pumping.

New paintings

Hokay, so. After moving to another state, I am back in business. First off, I have progress on a new painting comission:



It is kind of confidential, so this will have to do for now.

Lately I've been in a rut. I am surrounded by so many unfinished paintings that have just 'this much' to do before they are finished. I am at all times obsessed with trying to produce sale-able gallery work that can fit into my illustration portfolio. So I nay-say this, I poo-poo that, but in the name of keeping my artistic integrity, I have limited my output both painting and creative wise.

Who cares how socially relevant a dude with a jet pack punching some sorry alien is? It looks cool, and it works great for an AD. I keep telling myself that, and then doing something else. Ha. So this is the latest in my series of paintings I feel fit all the criteria. After this painting maybe I'll do my best 'spaceman punch' piece.

I want SIMPLE. Just a really nice portrait with a hint of science fiction. This will be my final entry into the joint show I am doing with my dad, Gary Hovey, at Bears Mill.