This is my cartoonery gallery. I’ll be posting images of my pencil-colored cartoons as they evolve. But, first, I want to show a couple examples of how cartoons translate into bead paintings.

 

I’ve long been curious why the most beautiful and colorful creations are hidden from view. Very few of us will ever get to see life at the bottom of the ocean and revel in its glory, so, I decided to translate this deficit into an imaginary asset. On the left is the color cartoon; on the right is its portrait in beads. It’s always a surprise to see how the original design converts to its outcome:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

New Mexico, where I live, is filled with churches in varying states of decay. Even in their sadness, though, I’m stirred by their desire to return to the earth. Their relentless fading and crumbling back into adobe dust seems both brave and desperate. Whenever I stumble upon a dying church building, I feel a heart-need to resurrect its shrouded colors of grace.

This tiny chapel is located in the shadow of a hill in Canoncito at Apache Canyon – a virtual ghost town just off old Route 66. To my eye, a pink makeover was called for:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the spirit of William Blake, I was inspired to illuminate passages of the Book of Revelation. Ah, just the language of that book reads in chromatic color. I could spend a lifetime unearthing its spectrum of elegance. In this example, I chose a scroll:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then there’s always the tiniest of details that begs to be amplified and embellished:

 

 

Here’s a terrific three-minute video that outlines the art of embroidery with beads. It shows the story of my work from the inside out:

 

 

 

 

 

As I’ve spent years exploring the delights of stitching beads, I’ve also spent hours overexerting my fingers, especially my thumbs. I seem to have developed either arthritis or tendonitis at the base of each, which is coaxing me to shift to another form of creativity.

And .  .  . this is where cartoonery comes forefront! I can still hold a pencil, draw, and color – so – my original passion circles ’round. Childhood transforms into adulthood. Peace and happiness are still the byproducts of a creative act, so, I’m adapting with joy.

Here are a couple of images. As I mentioned, I’ll be refreshing these and placing them on the blog as periodic surprises.

 

About twelve years ago, I visited a friend who’d moved from Santa Fe to Washington, DC. On a cross-country road trip, I detoured into the city to see the new apartment. As I walked through the door, I was amazed to see a virtually unfurnished, unpainted, unadorned space – except for a whimsical paper mache cat with wings hanging from the ceiling in the center of the living area. It’s taken my imagination almost a baker’s dozen cycle of years to assimilate this experience. The result: A quirky existential question of a cartoon and title .  .  . “If Cats Can Fly, Can Crows Tell Little Black Lies?”

 

 

Next, a bit of deja vu. Yes, it’s another forsaken truck that was rusting away on the plains of central New Mexico. I just HAD to adopt it and put it back on the road .  .  . “Prairie Schooner Minus-the-Horse.”

 

 

 

To play with color is to affirm that soul is a happy entity!!!