I told you I’d make something weird eventually.
Right, so the story behind this one is that once, I was telling a friend of mine a story, and he kept interrupting, so we finally agreed I’d just tell him the whole thing again, and he wouldn’t talk ’til I said, “I’m fed up with this rotten tomato eating dandelions.” I said I’d draw it someday, and now I have. Yaaay.
This was done completely differently than anything else I’ve ever drawn. (Warning: this is where I stop being quirky and interesting.) See, I’ve been using the same image editing program, GIMP, which is incredible and possibly my best inanimate friend, for three years, and yet I haven’t exactly experimented much with it. I edit all my drawings the same way: mess with the contrast, using the dodge/burn tool, to darken up the lines (giving everything a dark glow made of originally-less-noticeable smudges from my greasy fingers), then go over each character and object with the paintbrush in color mode, because I can’t be bothered to color inside the lines. (Color mode adjusts the hue without affecting the value, meaning nice, black lines stay black, and you get that awful, shoddy, sketchy texture that I’m famous for.)
In short, I am a hack.
But this time, I actually tried new things. Stumble Upon had been making me feel bad about myself with all this gorgeous Photoshop art, and this was the perfect opportunity to defend my honor, since I really didn’t feel like shading it, anyway. Next, I decided to line it manually, and in color, because, why not? And while I was at it, why not try using layers, with which I had absolutely no experience, and which changes basically everything about the process of editing? I don’t really remember much after that, except that the next few hours were filled with evil cackling, Amanda Palmer, and repeated involuntary marriage proposals to a collection of beautiful, beautiful pixels, which you see before you now. So, yeah, I’ll probably do some more work with this style.
“Its nose keeps switching between crying out of laughter and sadness while he plays tea and drinks chess…” -Devin
Dominick had once had a complete chess set, as well as a proper hat, but he traded the hat to a nomadic musician during a bad storm (mostly out of kindness, the trumpet had been broken even when it was given to him), and he lost most of the chess pieces because of little things, like when Benjamin needed a horse to get somewhere on time and The Great Swamp Sink of Summer. He doesn’t really mind, but it’s getting harder to play chess properly… (That and, until Benjamin gets back, he won’t have anyone to play with.)
The book titles, in order: Pour Mademoiselle, Dealing With Depression, Creationism, and Canadians: They’re Not Like Us. The chess pieces are a Troll doll, a rook, an engagement ring, a pawn, a Monopoly top hat, and a di.
Fun fact: I know two Jilly-Sauces. This is the original one, we named a …something after him. It’s stuffed, and green, and has a pocket, and eyes, and we found it at a garage sale. So, the original statement is only true if you believe that it is possible to know inanimate objects.
And, uh, this is from the one time I did the sketch and Lydia and Sequoia did the captions. (Meaning they stole my clipboard and wrote on my drawing.) It might actually be my favorite.