Mexican Beer Ads vs. Mexican Jail Time vs. Vogue Trash

June 19, 2013
  Filled my fifth trash bin with art reference trash this morning. Made three piles: worthless stuff, stuff I absolutely have to save and then, on-the-bubble stuff, like this:


Actually a postcard, but mighty sweet, don't you think?

 Giving my first history dinner lecture of the season next door at Cartwrights' Restaurant tonight at seven. Sorry, it's been sold out for a week. The next one is July 3rd, but it is filling up fast so don't dilly dally.


  As mentioned, I spent some time in jail last Friday night:



BBB In Mesa Jail: all metal, dang, that must have been uncomfortable in the summer time!



Our publisher, Ken Amorosano, brought in some magazines this morning and wanted me to look at them for graphic design inspiration. Took home a Vogue for lunch. Wasn't overly impressed, but I was inspired. Did these sketches based on a couple images I saw in the issue:




The lizard came out of my art reference, which I saved from the trash heap. So, what we have here is Vogue trash meets BBB trash. Demented, yes?


"Out of old fields comes all the new corn."
—Geoffrey Chaucer

The Real Naked Lunch

June 18, 2013
   Every morning I do six sketches before I check email. Makes for a nice little reward when I'm done. This morning I noodled two things: highway heatwaves on two ridges and mug shots of Route 66 Killers.


Went home for lunch and took off my clothes, thus achieving the Real Naked Lunch, and took a stab at the double heatwave phenom:

 
Daily Whipout, "When Heatwaves Dance"

Still not there, but I'm beginning to learn the secrets behind the highway mirage and the rippling horizon. Meanwhile, finished Salvador Dali's book "Fifty Secrets of Magic Craftsmanship." Thanks again Wolfgang for the great read and inspiring text. The Cliff Notes version of the book is:

• Drool

• Don't have a cat or a dog, instead have a spider as a pet

• To facilitate smooth blends, use a fan brush and keep fanning until the paint is completely dry

• Give yourself work assignments when you nap (your subconscious is very powerful and often solves the problems while you sleep!).

• Know when to stop, but great paintings are painted in six days.

• Do not screw around during a painting, literally. Do not have carnal relations until it's done.

• Have an affair with Gala because she loves painting (and Painting loves Gala). Transfer this effort to your married partner, whenever possible because Gala, Dali's muse, has been dead for a long time.

• Wear long mustaches because the ends of your mustache attract good vibes and the painting muse.

• Draw images upside down (turn a photo upside down and draw it that way, what you see, not what you THINK you see). Use a mirror to spot mistakes. It IS amazing. You can look at something for days and when you hold a mirror up to it, the mistake(s) become instantly recognizable.

• Draw and paint naked (see above and below).

• Naples yellow is a trade secret

• Trick wasps into flying into your painting medium and sticking around until they are dead. Then trick another one. And another until you have painted a Killer Bee Painting.

• When you work out perspective issues there is a "golden section" of the equation that seduces the human eye every time.

• Work on curves and logarithmic spirals until they sing.

• Channel an angel to guide your hand.

Oh, and yes, I have now completed a handful of drawings and paintings done in the nude and yes, one of them is "The Pensive 66 Kid." Not really a surprise because I was on high alert and perhaps even pushed it farther than normal because I knew it would be viewed as such. However, as forced as that sounds, it did allow me to use a pen on top of wash and then more wash. This is something I did way back in my art student days at the University of Arizona (1965-69). We did this every single day, but then I got out of school and moved away from it. This was worth reading the entire book just on this one point. Rediscovering a powerful combination.

And here's more naked lunch:



Notice how the young lady, at left, seems to be saying, "Pa-leeze put something over that thing down there."


"Nine times out of ten, the grittier the narrative, the more engaged the public is."
—Ahmir "Questlove" Thompson, drummer for The Roots

No Nudes Is Good News?

June 17, 2013
   Over the weekend I got this email from my best friend:

"At age 66, does taking up painting in the nude make you a better artist, or just certifiable?"
—CJW

  So, I thought to myself, Well, perhaps I have been taking this painting in the nude a bit far. It's a bit grotesque for someone this old to act so, well, immature. And, although I still did do a session au naturel, I decided to spare you the raw details of my efforts. Then, I got this:

"I can't believe you're going to drop the ball on this after all that build up. This is total proof you are a hopeless ADD goonball."
—BBB Inner critic

So, without further ado, here are two paintings I finished during my lunch hour. One was done completely clothed and the other one, well, here is photo positive proof of the strip tease part:

 
Daily Whipout, "At Least Keep Your Shoes On!"

Okay, here are two paintings. One of them was painted completely nude. Can you spot which one?

 
Daily Whipout, "Cloud Rider"


 
Daily Whipout, "A Pensive 66 Kid"

BTW: Regardless of clothes, that is the best ear rendering I have ever done.

"Clothes may make the man, but do the lack of them make a painting?"
—Salivating Dali

The Classic Harold's In Cave Creek

June 17, 2013
   Working on a variety of images and ideas. Whipped this out over the weekend.

 
Daily Whipout, "He Didn't Like What He Saw In The Middle of The Road."

Deena Bell is expecting this week. Her mother was obligated to pose for me even with a baby (Deena!) on her hip. I'm still cleaning in the garage (five full bins of paintings and trash, so far). Found this in the piles of crap. This is Kathy posing as Honkytonk Sue in the old, original Harold's of Cave Creek in 1980.


Kathy is pretending to hold a beer. Ha. I was intrigued by the old style booths Harold had tucked away in the back of the joint. Of course, I had my father time with the little girl as well. Here I am in our old farm house at Seventh Avenue and Indian School about 1981, when I worked at New Times, publishing and still drawing Honkytonk Sue, the comic strip.




I'm making an art pile of stuff I might give away. Stay tuned.

"Fatherhood is pretending the present you love most is soap-on-a-rope."
—Bill Cosby

Jail Time In Mesa

June 14, 2013
   Spent some time in jail last night. I gave a history talk out in Mesa for the Historic Preservation Conference at the Arizona Museum of History. Over 250 in attendance. Had fun. They put Kathy and I up at the Hilton and that is always nice. Ate at Mango's on Main Street before the talk. Afterwards, Vince Murray walked me to the old Mesa jail and we took a couple gag photos of me in a cell.

   Tonight the Class of 1963 is having their Fiftieth High School Reunion in Kingman at the Dambar Steakhouse. Quite a few of the guys in that class had some major, bitchin' flattops, which I have been working on lately.



The look, styled by Chuy, had a distinctive winged look, with fender sideboards and a buzz cut on top, sometimes set off by a long curl in the front. All of which faded fast when the Beatles hit in 1964. And the flattop has been going in and out of style, but it always guarantees a smile, when I see one.


 Of course, the flattops in my neighborhood got very interesting when applicated to the In-din head, because those dudes had a head of thick hair and the hairline was way low on the forehead.



And the flaming flattop wasn't just the provenance of the teenager. No, even the animal kingdom in our neck of the woods had it's own version of the desert flattop:




So, The 66 Kid will have a Two-Lane Flattop to go along with his street rod.


Going to settle in this weekend on the nude issue and I'll post the results on Monday.

"Every true genius is bound to be naive."
—Friedrich von Schiller

A Test for The Naked Eye

June 13, 2013
   Got home last night around 5:30 and stripped off everything except my shoes. It was quite hot out so it actually felt somewhat good. Went out to the studio and started working on a couple different painting ideas. After about 45 minutes I got a little tired of hanging out, literally (not as liberating as I thought it might be) and started a couple more drawings with shorts on (I have to admit to a little concern of Kathy coming home and having to defend the concept. Ha).

 A Test for The Naked Eye: can you spot what was done naked?



This is Mila Kunis, from the cover of Esquire. Going home for lunch soon and will post a couple more for your naked eye to consider.



"For the man who knows how to draw what he wants, feels himself to have become a kind of god—and sensations of that kind I very strongly advise you to experience in a state of total nudity, rather than clothed. Know this as Secret Number 23."
—Salvador Dali, "Fifty Secrets of Magic Craftsmanship"

Wolrd's Largest Buffalo Five Miles Ahead

June 12, 2013
  I've been debating this for a couple weeks now, but this morning I decided I needed to put my paint brushes where my mouth is, or, maybe a better metaphor is I need to put some skin in the game. As per Salvador Dali's advice (in his excellent "Fifty Secrets of Magic Craftsmanship" book which was gifted to me by master painter Wolfgang, of this site), I've drawn the human figure starting with the big toe to good results. I've drawn images upside down and I've "Slumbered with a key" (given myself assignments before I go to sleep). I haven't drooled yet (Dali claims all great painters drool) and I haven't painted in the nude.

  So, why wouldn't I paint in the nude?

  Because it's embarrassing? Yes, but would I do it if it actually made me a better painter? Of course I would. So, here are my sketches from a few days ago, done fully clothed and right side-up and drawing the human figure from the torso outward (as I was taught by Burne Hogarth):





That led to this little study I whipped out this morning:

 
Daily Whipout, "World's Largest Buffalo 5 Miles"

This too was done fully clothed. But tomorrow I intend to post the same sketches and a study of the same subject, each done completely in the nude.

"If you understand your painting beforehand, you might as well not paint it."
—Salvador Dali

The Prom Queen Scene

June 11, 2013
   The Prom Queen gets dumped and as he drives off, she turns and is lit up by approaching lights:

 
The Prom Queen Scene

And here's the rough storyboard for that sequence:



Went home for lunch and whipped out a little study on highway hitchers:

 
Daily Whipout, Heatwave Highway #66

Getting there. Bigger sign, longer legs, more rippling along the top, more pools of water effects in the foreground.

"By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he's wrong."
—Charles Wadsworth

Ghosts On The Football Field And Ghosts In Our Coach's Pants

June 10, 2013
   Like most modern citizens of this planet I like to think of myself as enlightened and well beyond the pull of old world superstition. I have no fear of ladders or Friday the 13th and I often go out of my way to step on cracks—but, I do admit to a fascination with certain numbers. I woke up this morning at 5:55. I'm not sure what it means but I did get kind of excited and actually got up to see what it might mean. For one thing, the coffee wasn't on, because it comes on at 5:30. So I went for a walk and it was still cool out, so maybe that's all it was, but I'll take it.

   As everyone here knows, I grew up on Route 66. Well, this year I turned 66 and I thought to myself if I'm ever going to do a book about growing up on The Mother Road, this should be the year.

   Today I read about the haunting of my old school. In the article it said that the population of Kingman is 66,000. A figment of the Chamber of Commerce's wishful thinking? (Kingman had a population of 3,300 when I grew up there AND it was at 3,300 feet above sea level) Or, another sign that I need to do the book. Or, perhaps a sign I shouldn't move back home because I'll mess up the Chamber's claim? 66,001 people live in Kingman because some old fart returned home.

Here's a couple quotes from the article on the Haunting of a High School:

Many in this Mohave County seat of 66,000, 95 miles southeast of Las Vegas, liken the alleged sightings to hair-raising tales kids tell around campfires.

But high school janitor James Miller believes.

"Some nights I hear footsteps. Last fall, I was [cleaning] in the girls' bathroom and I heard someone going into the boys' lavatory," he said. "I hear voices coming from some rooms, little kids mumbling. I can't really hear what they're saying. It's kind of freaky, but it really doesn't bother me. I just tell them all to go home."

In Kingman, a historic mainstay along old Route 66, there are other buildings with strange phenomena, such as weird knocks on the wall and glasses that spill by themselves, officials say.

"In any old town like ours, especially one that involved mining, railroad and cattle, things don't always go so well," said Diane Silverman, a supervisor at the Kingman tourism office. "People die for all kinds of reasons. And they don't all go away happy."

Indeed, America has plenty of so-called haunted places: old hotels, mansions, ships like the Queen Mary. But a modern high school teeming with teenagers?

Part of Lee Williams High sits atop the former site of the old Pioneer Cemetery, which spreads beneath a portion of the school's football field and a set of bleachers, near a memorial stone honoring the 350 deceased settlers once interred there — ranchers, miners, railroad men and Hualapai tribal members. Many call it the scariest place on campus.
___________

End of article.

   I remember having freshman football practice on the grounds of the old cemetery. They were repairing the actual field so we had to go across the street to the empty lot and we hated it because it was full of rocks and crumbled headstones. Nobody was spooked in the slightest, although our coach, nicknamed Boach Caca, used to stand on the sidelines with his hands tucked deep into his sweatpants. That was kind of creepy, but other than that, no ghosts in the machine until now.

I was 33 when I had my first child, Deena Bell. This week she is expecting her first child and she is 33. And grandpa is 66. And what are we gonna do?

Party like it's 1999, which ironically will probably be when I finish the book on Route 66.

Meanwhile, the photo session I did with Bryan Black last month has been published in a local magazine and here is the cover with one of his photos:



Inside, are a couple more photos by Bryan and the cover story:




Check out the entire piece right here at ImagesAZ.

"My life has a superb cast but I can't figure out the plot."
—BBB

Starting With The Big Toe

June 10, 2013
  Worked on a couple things over the weekend. Whipped out this sketch of a lone car on a lonesome two-lane highway.



Also, worked a bit on a variety of scenes:




The kiss of death for a drawing is to start with the head. I've known that for a long time. It locks the body down and makes it inflexible and the rest of the composition stunted. I once took a week long drawing class from Burne Hogarth (of Tarzan fame, but a different Tarzan artist than the one I'm poaching above, Russ Manning) who taught me to start with the rib cage and work outward, but I just read Dali, and he claims you should always start with the big toe, so I did.

"Always draw the human figure, starting with the big toe. Never the head."
—Salvador Dali

Night Moves

June 9, 2013
   Watched "In Cold Blood" last night. Excellent movie that, believe it or not, I have never seen before. Great fifties road shots, especially  night time driving in the rain. This inspired a couple noodles today, including this scene of the Kid putting his night moves on during a rain storm on old Route 66 near Tijeras, New Mexico:



"Ain't it funny how the night moves, when you ain't got nothin' more to lose?"
—Bob Seger, "Night Moves"

The Fading History of An Adobe Wall

June 8, 2013
As per Kathy's birthday request we took in two movies yesterday at Harkin's Camelview 5: "The Kings of Summer" and "Before Midnite." Enjoyed them both.

When we built our house back in the eighties, we had an adobe wall building party and asked everyone to bring something to put in the wall.

 
The two adobe walls leading into the BBB Casa Ranchito (the stone work on ground came later)

A couple of my musician friends brought guitar picks which are long gone. Debbie Radina brought a cool siesta painting on hard board which has long faded to nothing.



Someone, I can't remember now, brought a Spiderman figurine which has melted away. Judy Darbyshire brought two Indian head reliefs which partially have survived (the tree behind the second wall (the entry way has two walls, one on each side of the entry) leaned into the wall and pushed out several layers of adobes, but half the head of one survives and the other one as well.

 
Judy Darbyshires wonderful In-din heads sleeping in the wall

   David K. Jones brought a fruit jar with the Jones, Boze And Jeanne Radio Show on audio cassettes, placed inside. I thought this was ingenious and would survive the ages, but somehow, the jar has been penetrated with a significant hole in the protruding part of the jar and it appears insects have gotten inside and eaten the tapes (although I haven't looked because it's still in the wall).

 
The Jones, Boze and Jeanne Radio Show Depository Has Been Compromised

The most preserved items and still visible in the wall are an upper set of teeth brought by a dentist I can't remember. . .

 
A wall with teeth (can't remember who brought the Corona Extra bottle part either).

The other surviving wall art is a Chevy hubcap brought by a good friend of Jeanne Sedello (I'm embarrassed I can't remember her name but Jeanne will).

 
Hubcap Without The Wheels, BBB Opening (lower left, backside of wall).

   So what was the date of this wall building party? If we knew, we'd be able to document how long we have actually lived in our house. One person actually had a plaque made to commemorate the building of the wall, complete with the date. I thought it would survive, but, no, as previously mentioned, the tree took out the top three rows of adobes and with it the plaque, which I promptly stored in a place I could easily find and then reset it in the wall at some point when I had time to reinsert it. Well, that was at least ten years ago and I haven't seen hide nor hair of the plaque.

   Until today.

   I was cleaning in the garage this morning, filling my fourth trash bin with my precious reference materials that I haven't looked at in years (in other words, worthless crap). Rifling through a box of papers, I grabbed a stack and started to chuck it all, but in the middle I felt something hard. A piece of metal. I threw away the paper but realized there used to be writing on the metal. Hard to read writing because the copper had oxidized and has become very dark.

T
he Adobe Wall Plaque That Nailed The Date

Holding it up to the light in the studio, this is what it says:

 "When asked to their home on the day of Bob's birth.

 I felt I'd established my status, my worth.

 I came only to find the Bell's had the gall.

 To ask me to help them

 Construct this damn wall.

With Love, Lee Hill
December 19, 1987

 So, the mystery is solved. By the way, Lee Hill, a woman, worked with me at New Times. That damn wall has been standing for as long as we have been living here, which by my count is almost 26 years.

Funny, but it feels like longer. But the interesting part to me is how quickly so much of it has disappeared completely (and how many "close friends" I have forgotten!), and even the stuff that has survived this long, will probably be gone in another 26 years, with the possible exception of the Chevy hubcab. And, I guess that says something about us all, doesn't it?

"It's already over what's going on now."
—Loudon Wainwright III

Great to Be Misunderstood?

June 7, 2013
   Kathy's birthday today. Made her birthday pancakes like she likes 'em, thick and small (just like she likes her men). Taking her to two movies today. Sneaking out at one. We'll make a day of it.

   Organizing a show for Santa Fe in the fall at Due West Gallery. This will be one of the pieces I take over later this summer:


 "Lone Light On The Mesa"

And, of course, this one:


"Mick Skirts The Flames"

Also, I'm still noodling highway heatwaves and highway hitchers:





Not great, but then, you know what Waldo says about that:

"To be great is to be misunderstood."
—Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Curious Perks of Being BBB

June 6, 2013
   One of the nice perks about living in Cave Creek is walking outside in the morning and seeing this:

Christa Barro Barrels By On Horseback

And one of the perks of living close to Scottsdale is being able to go down to gallery row in Scottsdale and talk to guys like Abe Hays who is still digging up little painting treasures like this Maynard Dixon he picked up recently:


Abe Hays And His Latest Find

And one of the perks of being a cartoonist is to whip out little scratchboards of border bandidos by poaching old photographs of the Mexican Revolution in the True West archives:

 
Badges?! We Don't Need No Stinking Badges!

Another one of the perks of being a cartoonist is getting the opportunity to illustrate Charles Barkley's big, beautiful butt boxing out a defensive player (this was 20 years ago this year when they almost won the championship):



 
Charles' Big Beautiful Butt

One of the perks of publishing a magazine is meeting cool collectors like Diane Potter who has an amazing collection of Route 66 and Arizona postcards:



And one of the perks of being married to Kathy Sue Radina is. . .


For some damn reason she still likes me. Oh, and an early Happy Birthday to you, girlfriend.

And lastly, one of the perks of knowing Humor Masters is this: I was cleaning out the garage this morning when I ran across an Arizona Republic report from 1993 that said, "Wonderful Russ was hosting a Channel 8 pledge break a couple of weeks ago. Instead of the usual polite PBS appeals for cash, Wonderful, longtime Valley zane master and occasional KSLX morning show contributor, did it this way: "I'm hearing a silence this is irritating to me, and I'm seriously thinking, I'm not saying I will do it, but I'm seriously thinking of starting to take these people who are answering the phones, and choking them one by one until you phone in with your pledges."

"It's just good business."
—Russ Shaw, Jr.

Thunderheads Over Union Pass

June 5, 2013

   Still working on highway heatwaves:





The roadway is a bit better but the rippling effect that happens along the horizon is too overworked. My memory of highway heatwaves is of the entire horizon rippling like inching worms gone berserk. Needs more air in the distant landscape.

My father lived out his final years in So-Hi Estates, outside of Kingman, Arizona. We used to go up and visit him several times a year. It was very peaceful there and I remember looking out across Golden Valley and seeing Union Pass in the distance. This morning I whipped out this little study of that memory:

 
Daily Whipout, "Thunderheads Over Union Pass"

Cleaned in the garage again this morning and filled another big waste barrel with art and crap, mostly research paper. Did salvage a few things like this big board:





This dates from at least twenty years ago and portrays "The Carkid" (aka The 66 Kid) being charged in the basement of the Kingman Courthouse. I believe that's Sheriff Bill Porter, third from left, and Floyd Cisney on the right. Not sure who the guy at left is. The 66 Kid allegedly stole a top secret "car of the future" (The XS-5000) from Ford Proving Grounds at Yucca. The Kid was captured after a crazy chase. I think it was in the Valentine area where they finally got him. Quite a story and, as far as I know, never been told before.

I've been listening to a lot of road music lately, getting myself in the mood for my highway paintings, so I was kind of shocked to read this:

"The painter must make himself familiar with architecture before anything else. Never music, which is the enemy of painters and injurious to them."
—Salvador Dali, "Fifty Secrets of Magic Craftmanship"

Gettin' Shady With Forty Dollar Sadie

June 4, 2013
   Twelve years ago, in our sold-out February-March, 2001 issue (our most sought after back issue with a good copy bringing $300 or more), we broke a story about Josie "Sadie" Marcus, otherwise known as Mrs. Wyatt Earp. Written by Carol Mitchell (her grandfather was a pallbearer for Wyatt Earp) the article made the claim for the first time that there is reason to believe a known prostitute in the Prescott area who went by the name of Sadie Mansfield was, in fact, Sadie Marcus.



 
Gettin' Shady With Forty Dollar Sadie

Here's a link to the article Lady Sadie.

"After Wyatt died, Josephine refused to let anyone call her Sadie."
—Carole Mitchell, in the Feb-Mar, 2001 issue of True West magazine

Flaming Flattops

June 3, 2013
   Had a grand weekend working on a subject I know a thing or two about:



In addition to the great nicknames we had in Kingman, most of us got our dos (as in hair-dos) done by Chuy at Bond's Barbershop in downtown Kingman for $2.





I drew these bad boys upside down. That is to say, I utilized one of Salvador Dali's drawing tricks and put the photos upside down and drew the shapes and images that way (it tricks the brain into drawing more accurately because you're not loading up on left-brain, linear ideas of how a nose looks, you're just drawing the shape of something you don't recognize). It's pretty powerful. Did this guy as well, upside down:





Robert McBratney had a flaming flattop. He was a year or two older than me. Wonder where he is today?

Getting set to incorporate Dali's next "secret" to magic craftmanship, in the nude:

"I very strong advise you to experience drawing in total nudity, rather than clothed. Know this as Secret Nmber 23."
—Salvador Dali, "Fifty Secrets of Magic Craftmanship"

Shiprock Hitch Hiker

June 2, 2013
  A year ago yesterday (June 1) my family took off, in the heat, for Flag at 4 p.m. and after a one lane stoppage on I-17 south of Mund's Park, we landed at the Knight's Inn ($50) and then walked around Tommy's town in the cool air, landing at The Carriage House, where we ate outside ($150) and then wandered off to the legendary Monte Vista Hotel where we had drinks and then a nightcap at the Wine Loft overlooking San Francisco Street.

  The next morning, June 2, we were on the road thru Navajoland and beyond (actually, our goal was Mike Richard's cabin on Lake Okoboji, Iowa). After a hike in Canyon de Chelly and a stay at Thunderbird Lodge, we drove the back way into New Mexico, cruising right by Shiprock, a mighty sight, indeed. This study is inspired by that landscape: "Shiprock Hitchhiker."

This was the start of our family roadtrip which we nicknamed The BLT Tour (Bell-Family-Farm Legacy Tour). Had a great road tip, saw lots of country and had some great road food. In fact we had Navajo mutton at a roadside vender, just west of Shiprock in Red River Valley.

Also working on "Two-Lane Flattop" a concept I know a thing or two about. Been studying In-din flattops which have an architecture that's pretty damned amazing. Pictures tomorrow.

"It will come to you if you are willing to study it and immerse yourself in its complexities."
—William Friedkin, "The Friedkin Connection"

"