My father's birthday. Miss the man. He was born in 1923 and died in 1998. Wish I had back all the cringeworthy pompousness I laid on him. He never responded. He just smiled and let me go on, and on. It's tough being a damn, know-it-all foolish kid. I thought I was "The 66 Kid," but that's not true at all. It was Allen P. Bell.
When I study old photographs I am always drawn to the eyes.
Santa Fe Trader William Messervy, 1849
from a photograph
In the most intriguing photos it's usually the contradiction between the eyes. Sometimes one is sympathetic, and the other one is a killer's eye. They're rarely, if ever, the same. Sometimes one eye is fearless and the other is fearful. It's the conflict between the two that can sometimes capture the soul of a character.
Daily Scratchboard Whip Out: "Seri Witch"
"Evil Eyes"
Notice how the eye on the right is slightly fearful. Gives him humanity. Other times it can be the environment they are in.
Daily Whip Out: "El Vato II"
Storms always give me an insight in a character.
Daily Scratchboard Whip Out:
"Lightning Rider"
So, what is my philosophy on all this? It's all in the contradictions.
"I have O.C.D. and a phobia of antique furniture."
—Billy Bob Thorton
"I have O.C.D. and A.D.D.; everything has to be perfect, just not for very long."
—BBB
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