Song and Dance

Don't forget to get up and have a little fun!

Crazy Kid

I just watched John Hubley's Moonbird and was completely drawn in by the childrens' expressive eyes. A lot of the time they form into these teardrop shapes, darting back and forth. So, brimming with inspiration I created this crazy kid.

A Little Help?

More Jinx

In the midst of lipstick politics,
I took another stab at drawing an old friend.

For better or for worse...

...my impulses get the best of me, again.

Hi, Jinx!

I was struck tonight as I was drawing. I've been revisiting past characters and doodles as I try to wrap my mind around creating stories for a series of comics. I have a bunch of characters, doodles really, who I find fun to draw. So I'm sitting a bunch of fun characters who I need to spin into fun stories. And I arrived at an interesting question: what about Jinx? (if unfamiliar, go to Jinx the Monkey and watch the animation).

It's silly to think I've overlooked him for so long. How many times a day do I see the words "Jinx the Monkey"? He's one of a handful of characters I've animated...even rarer that he has a voice (my voice, pitched up). More importantly, Jinx was a character who I created with a story in mind. It was a simple idea to put him in the context of a carnival and do my version of the cartoon trickster. He had a friend named Wheeler—I even created a couple adversaries (Louie and Dijon). I cranked out the animated short for my senior thesis, exhausted myself in the process, and decided to table the idea post-graduation. It was his first and last act.

After drawing him again tonight, there's something I find really appealing about his design. I also noticed I didn't draw him the same when I compared this sketch to the benchmark of 6 years ago. He's not as happy, either (maybe resentful?) I couldn't help but ask myself if he's a character worth revisiting, in comic form. I have a bunch of characters to work with at this point, but I'm gonna entertain the idea for a bit.

Crayons and Pumpkins

The other day I was scanning some photos my mom let me borrow. This little guy is me, drawing at the table with my Nana behind me. I'm guessing I was probably 3 or 4. I tried to make out what I was drawing. It looks like a bunch of scribbles, but my name is fairly legible (B-O-B-B-Y). I don't remember not being able to read, and I don't remember not enjoying to draw. I guess because I did both at an early age. My Grammy (not to be confused with my Nana above), used to sit with me and have me practice drawing shapes. The most advanced thing she showed me how to draw was a pumpkin—clever of her because they were made out of the shapes she was teaching me.

I was 4 when my brother Shawn was born, and was expecting a baby sister (because I already had a brother, Matt). When I heard the news, I cried. My parents turned me around pretty quickly, though, and to welcome him into the family, I wrote Shawn's name and drew him a pumpkin. I don't have it handy; it's probably tucked away safely at my house. To this day, they appear in my doodles quite a bit.

Dweebs and Guards

One of the best parts of working at a company like FableVision is the opportunity to collaborate with talented people. I designed the above characters as cartoon extras for an animated web-series my friend Renée Kurilla is working on. The series revolves around a bunch of middle school kids, most of whom are pretty hip looking. So I figured the hallways could use a couple of dweebs.


These characters came out of some back and forth with another artist friend, Keith Zulawnik. We've been working on a math game with MIT that includes a story told through comics (previously mentioned here). Keith did one more iteration of these monster guards after I handed them off to him.

We all blog together as well at Creative Juices.

A Dozen Faces

I'm normally inclined to draw weird animals and creatures. But you can get a lot of variety in a human face as well, which is something I have to remind myself of every so often. This gang of twelve is the result of a couple hours doodling in Flash.

The Transformation of a Drawing

I've been talking more about process lately. I got home from dinner tonight and decided to doodle around in Flash. Normally I rough out a gestural pose of some sort—whatever comes to mind at the time. I then turn on what's called "onion-skinning," where you can see a ghost of the previous frame. The gesture appeared to be a grief-stricken figure, and ended up becoming a tormented beast.

I normally try to limit the amount of steps from a thumbnail or loose drawing to the final picture, as I find that life gets drained with each iteration. The final rendering is more line-conscious. Something about the weight and energy of the figure is lessened. The gesture is all about loose curves, blocking out the form, and implied movement. But it lacks definition. And don't get me wrong; I like the final drawing. But it is all about me obsessing over detail. Interestingly, the middle step is a mixture of both extremes.