J.H. Schmitz Art

Water Colors

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Mon, 20 May 2013 03:01:00 +0000

Here are some water color field studies I have been working on lately. My plan is to keep on with these until the snow flies again.
I started this run at the beginning of April, that delicious time of year before any growth has been initiated, and the strains of the weight are still worn by the world -

when everything
is tight rust skin
barbed with broken
black still sleeping
spokes of light
and a little more
all the time -

A Thousand Words

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Thu, 11 Apr 2013 21:41:00 +0000

Well you know -
- a picture says 'a thousand words' - so . . . . .

WATCHED

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Sun, 07 Apr 2013 07:01:00 +0000

' - OH , how I ride here -

the empty canyons as

wide as death -

- OH , know that I come -

all hungers hasten me -

- OH , see this mask -
amongst all things -

with dawn -
with dusk -
I draw ever closer ;

Yon weapons are nothing,

compared to this heart . . . '

TORN APART

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Sat, 16 Mar 2013 17:57:00 +0000

In some future time. In some future place - Marl Parson, one of the last handful of survivors of the 'Deep Wars' - also known as the ' North Atlantic Undersea Deep Trench Aggression of 22 - 29 ', sits and reflects. Silently remembering the hideousness - the reeling slideshow of oblivion, the inexplicable and overwhelming terror of that horrible deep, green - black war.

Remembering . . . . .

The cold vault of dark pressure . . . .

where you're never sure . . .

New Sketch Book Work

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Mon, 04 Mar 2013 00:47:00 +0000

Alright - here's a whack of new stuff from my sketch book. I've been having fun using that Sable Hair brush I was telling you about ( see - ' Blaster Boy ' ) and also playing with colored inks, water colors and Gouache. And some improvised tools for inking. Just letting it roll.

Yep. That and watching for black helicopters.

FLEDERMAUSMANN

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Fri, 01 Mar 2013 22:26:00 +0000

HEADS UP - !!!!!!

The Flying Mouse Man is HERE !!!!

" Watch out - the Flying Mouse is gonna clean up this town - you damn filthy - you's - " - Ted

Hölle hat Flügel, und es ist Name ist... FLEDERMAUS !!!

O.K. - This is a goofy idea I had in response to the ' Hero / Super-Hero ' question I have been pondering for some time now. Last summer I caught Batman : The Dark Knight Rises, and after that - that's when I started playing with the idea. Batman in German is still Batman. But a Bat is called a 'flying mouse' - a Fledermaus. I thought it funny a ' flying mouse man '.
So that bit of ridiculous, coupled with my frustration of the Hero bracket being lorded over and controlled by the WEALTHY, led to this. I know western 'pop' comics reflect the capitalist / materialist culture from whence they were spawned. The reality of it is - there are A LOT more poor people out there than affluent. Christ, even the Fantastic Four were loaded. So the subtext is; you have to be wealthy to affect any change - or have any say ?
That's funny, it sounds like our political system.
Anyhow - lets keep having fun.
I know Comics are fantasy and designed for escape, especially the mainstream titles and characters.
I find it interesting that a lot of European Comics are fast paced and crazy too - but their primarily dominated by the erotic and mysterious. Their human texture is undeniable. But in America - it's different. Big tits. Big bombs. Big hero's.

Soooooo - why not have a real everyday type of person ( kind of ... ) running around ' trying ' to help. Disorganized. Disheveled. Destroyed. There are probably a 1000 Comics fans right now ready to freak on me - how dare I ??? But the only, main stream 'average' ( non-loaded ) person in comics, is Spider - Man. Its cool. He lives with his Aunt. Nice.

If I understand things correctly ( ? ) Superman ( that should be retitled 'Alien' like WTF ??? ) was inspired by the Man of Bronze . . . Doc Savage. Old Doc was spun up in the 30's as an answer to depression blues. Well, the Doc rocked, and in turn a little later - old Supe - Alien was hatched, bearing some interesting parallels to the Doc. The Doc had a fortress he would duck out to to grab some alone time in and chill. So did Supe - Alien, and so does The Batman.

But the one thing that ties them all together is their affluence.

They are all independently wealthy. Single. And they all employ ' side - kick ' - accomplices.

So anyhow - here's my 2 cents : Fledermausmann.
Ted. He's a butcher, when he works. He's freaked a bit. Single, but not by choice. Down often, and self medicated with vice. One day ( of course ) he 's had it - its red light time ( after some significant moment ) and then . . . m e l t d o w n c i t y -

He snaps and goes tearing out to right some perceived wrong.
His only friend in the world - Garry.
Garry feels kind of sorry for Ted - and he doesn't want Ted doing anything stupid to himself, or anyone else. In some ways - Garry is the REAL hero. Teds just fucked. Chasing his own delusional glory phantoms, with his perceptions and filters, mostly inverted, he experiences a 'reality' set up by his insecurity, and flavored by his reactions to it. Thus snowballing along - his avalanches of certainty feed themselves. His pursuits are mainly just - if only accented, ah - a little severely. He's angry and starting to boil over ( re: Falling Down - Micheal Douglas ) and Garry's there to catch it all - most times. Strangely enough, old Ted does do good.

When questioned by Gary once, by his choice of wearing a pair of rubber gloves out on a ' job ' - Ted replied - "It's a dirty world out there . . . "
SNAP - SNAP !!!

Ted likes women, even if they don't like him. He yells at his bosses. Shows up late for everything. Forgets to shave. And often has hallucinations. He has a soft spot for rescuing insects that are in risk of being trapped inside of buildings. He cant stand kids.

CAESAR

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Fri, 01 Mar 2013 02:39:00 +0000

I thought it fitting to post this - seeing as a Pope has stepped down today. I understand they smashed his ring with a hammer. Wow - Cultists are cool !!!

1 : any of the Roman emperors succeeding Augustus Caesar —used as a title

2 a often not capitalized : a powerful ruler: (1) : emperor (2) : autocrat, dictator

version - 1

PS - In my inspired state last night, I overlooked the spelling on the image. Oops !!! Maybe I'll try a work around in a bit.

I told you - I pant stell - !!!

version - 2

Teachers Pet

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Thu, 28 Feb 2013 03:30:00 +0000

We all love to please our superiors, lord knows. And everyone sucks up some time or the other - that's just life. And this little dude is no exception. Look at that now - who wouldn't love to get such fine gifts ?
Apples are so beaten and tired.
Forget it. I want vivisection.

Alternative Description -
( a rare picture of me in public school going up for ' Show & Tell ' )

The Real Question !!!

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Wed, 27 Feb 2013 22:56:00 +0000

You know as well as I do that some day it's going to get crazy. It only makes sense, as paradoxical as that sounds.
That's why, just like me - you've been stashing supplies, and making homemade weapons. Conditioning your body and mind. Excepting pain as your friend. Sleeping in ice water. Eating crushed glass. Head butting the porcelain sink - 50 times every morning. Putting cigarettes out on the soles of your feet. Doing sit-ups with a 30 lb dumbbell in your mouth like a dog bone. Getting your Girlfriend to beat you across the back with Bamboo canes while you eat.

Yep. Your just like me.

You got nothin to fear. Your ready - " C'mon Alien scum - I'm in a tentacle slashing mood today -
. . . . . Y E A H !!!!!!!! "

Fun Time For Blaster Boy

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Wed, 27 Feb 2013 18:01:00 +0000

Think insects - GIANT ones - think concussive shocks - think debris - think blue plasma pulses flashing over the carnage ...... think -
Fun Time for Blaster Boy !!!

- the goal, as always - was to work on inking and coloring. I used Painter 12 to color it. And my arm & hand power to ink it.
You might laugh but I finally went out and coughed up the 50 bucks for a Windsor & Newton Series 7 #2 Sable Hair brush. HOLY SHIT. I have seen the light !!!!

The all digital process is certainly FASTER, and has a million benefits ( if the electricity is on - just saying - ) and strengths. It makes so much sense for so many applications and effects. But for warmth and strength - of line - it's India ink and Sable hair for me. ( sorry Sables, for all the bald spots !!! )

This could be posted under ' Process 123, abc '. The only problem I have with that is - it makes you the viewer 'scroll' up and down looking for adjustments and additions. It seems to me a very easy way to miss new things. So - I'll post like this - with notes - that are hopefully understandable.

Like - yeah !!! You know.

DIGITAL PAINTING

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Wed, 27 Feb 2013 17:20:00 +0000

These are some of the Digital paintings / pieces I have been playing around with recently. I used Corel Painter 12. I tried to work at a decent and ' real ' pace. Flowing, the way you would in the actual studio. I attempted to touch on most of the tools / media. The oils and Acrylics are nice. I LOVE the chalk and pastel tools, and blenders - nice. The ' real water colors ' are very neat, but love to crash the program - wow !!!
I've been without the internet for the last 5 months - so when I asked Painter to tutor me, it wanted to dial out - but couldn't.
So . . . . I was left to my own devices. I am very enthused to now be re - internet-ed - and have the opportunity for online tutorials.

Enjoy - Jim

Jeff The Sneak - ' Entry Specialist '

Alex Jr. Grease - ' The Mechanic '

Alice The Little Witch - ' Assassin '

Pierre The Finder - ' Acquisitions '

Alden The Good Son - ' Demolitions '

Bertram The Ears - ' Intel - Communications '

Gregory The Puppeteer ' Disinformation / Sabotage '

The Thing

Raymond The Wolf - ' The Job Man '

Ogden The Bird - ' Surveillance '

Daryl The Inside Man - ' Espionage '

Andy The Driver - ' Transport - Get to / Away '

Alex Sr. The Mind - ' Crew Boss '

Mike The Legs - ' Runner '

Ham Bone Jim - ' The Hideout Man '

Danny The Arms - ' Enforcer '

Mr. VI

Willie The Beast - ' Muscle '

Special Agent : Gordon Harris

Moving Pictures

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Wed, 27 Feb 2013 03:43:00 +0000

Its .... been awhile. A L O N G while. I know.

There's not much to say. I was without nova fiber connections. Out of orbit. Under the surface. But I kept at it. Drawing. Inking. Running. Let the pictures do the talking, after all - they are moving.

( This is a little project just messing with an idea of no WORDS - only pics. Seeing if I could convey a narrative ( ? ) of some kind. It's all off the top of my head. There is a 3rd, finishing page coming up, really. xoxo ~ Jim )

- GOLEM Project -

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Wed, 01 Aug 2012 22:33:00 +0000

Here's some concept drawings I did for a Friend of mine who is writer. He told me of a story idea he has, and asked if I was interested in designing / visualizing some components of it - ?

Of course I was, and happily agreed !!!

He has some really great ideas for scripts, and worlds, so It wasn't hard to immerse myself in it. My imagination stepped in and - ZOOM - it just took off. I asked some questions of myself - " why always clay - why always slow ? " It was very natural, and over some good coffee in the morning light - these dudes just rolled on out. I kind of tried to conjure what I'd imagine / expect to experience if I was to come across a Golem.

So I went ahead and made some explanatory notes just for the fun of it, that were included in the package I sent to my Writer Friend. I added them at the bottom of the post for your enjoyment also.

G O L E M

............

Notes for concept drawings.

I thought instead of having just a traditional clay, or mud Golem - it might be interesting to branch out. What else could they be made of ? Would the construction material have any affect on the Golems disposition, character, intended tasks / purpose, and or - the ability to perform said tasks ?

All Golems are manufactured. A spell can animate almost any substance. If your powerful enough. There are WOOD and STONE Golems. Obviously good for certain tasks. The FLESH Golem - a bit trickier to operate than a direct element based Golem, but not that much harder. Out of the family, the strongest of them would be the GARBAGE Golem. To animate any single substance Golem, takes a fairly simple spell. Control wood. Control stone - etc.

So one spell is cast to animate, another to control substance, and a third to control being. This three part command based suggest / direct spell can be considered for all purposes, a single spell.

To control a GARBAGE Golem is far trickier. The GARBAGE Golem is composed of possibly hundreds of compounds. A magic user who wanted to 'run' one of these has to be VERY strong. Initial preparation spells have to be cast, then directional spells, then spells to discern the content of the purposed Golem. Then a second wave of precise appointment locks have to be issued. Think of this as software that has to be installed before you can install the functioning software that runs / backs the actual software / program you are attempting to run. Once the initial ‘base‘ spell is installed, then the secondary, building spells can be launched, and through a process of containment and acquiescence on molecular levels, finally, the Magic user is ready to ‘weave‘ the finishing, or ‘wrapping‘ spells and complete the process.

Of course nothing is perfect, and that rule certainly applies to Golems. Big time. The problem with Golems is the horrible memory that they have. The FLESH Golem could be considered a bit of a exception in this category. If the Builder was clever enough to ‘pop’ a good brain into a willing socket. If not - oh well. Suck it - your stuck with it.

ALL Golems can be fought - and they ALL have specific weaknesses.

The CLAY Golem can be thinned with water. It has to be high pressure - but it will atrophy and eventually destroy it. Fire, or prolonged constant heat can bake them. Keep them away from the steel foundries.

The FLESH Golem can be cut and hacked apart. It will rot if compromised enough, so it’s important to call back your ‘Fleshes’ for regular inspections, if you can. It can also be burnt and dissolved with acids.

The STONE Golem is a fucking pain in the ass !!! This bastard can do almost anything. Good luck with projectiles, fire, water, acid, bullets or almost anything on this beast. If the Magic User who made it knew their stuff, you could be in for a really, really hard time. A sandstone Golem is the mark of a beginner and can prove good sport on occasion. Of course stones sink. And lets not forget what sudden temperature changes can do to stone.

The WOOD Golem has no friend in fire thats for sure, but seeing as they behave and bend as ‘green’ wood would, flame has to be napalm hot and applied for considerable time to have any effect. Chain saws and edged tools are good. Crushing them is the best. All you have to do is get one to follow you into a car crusher, and - ‘voila’ !!!

The DUST Golem is a nice guy, and super handy for the crafty Wizard. They can rematerialize after being disrupted / injured in a fight or fall. Their make - up allows them to gain access to many places restricted to mortals and other Golems. They can be fought in numerous ways. Water and fire seem to be most effective. The dust Golems deadliest weapon is letting itself into you. If inhaled it is 98 % lethal.

The GARBAGE Golem is the strongest in terms of imbued magic holding it together. Created and motivated by layered and bound spells, and depending on the predominating material the GARBAGE Golem is composed of, it can truly be a handful. Always odoriferous and accompanied by swarms of insects and shit eating flies, the psychological and emotional impact of this monster can not be underestimated. Fighting these assholes is very hazardous. Many a Golem fighter has waged an exceptional battle, only to die of blood loss, caused by severe lacerations, from reaching into the worn away abdomen, in an attempt to seize it’s core ( classic Golem fighting move : break the crystal the Magic User placed at the center of it's being - the chest, where our heart would be ) and crush it, thus defeating the shambling excrement mound. But in the ooze and muck slash ones wrist on glass fragments, or dirty needles.
A very real danger when fighting city GARBAGE Golems.

- PROCESS - 123, abc

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Tue, 26 Jun 2012 01:16:00 +0000

PROCESS in things is important. You cant just jump to Z right off the hop. You have to start somewhere, and . . . . A is a very good choice. It occurred to me the other day that having a post up on process would be an interesting thing. People, myself included, love to see process in things. We enjoy it, it helps us to understand said things, gives us insight into them, and has a way of relating to us, the functioning and figuring of the creators and participants involved. Process, in some ways - can be seen as diary entries, as smeared finger marks on old greasy maps - the hand worn burnish on seasoned wooden railings, the slight plump plum scar, ever pouting on a lovers abdomen.
Process whispers through all things, leaving it's signatures as evidence.

This post will continue to grow as I finish up new projects. Enjoy.

__________________________________________________________________________

' The Procurement '

Pencil & ink.

__________________________________________________________________________

' I Told You '

Analogue pencil / Digital ink & Color.

__________________________________________________________________________

' Big Brain '

Digital Ink & Color

__________________________________________________________________________

' Choke '

Primitive lead stick / Primordial ink / Digital color.

HOLY COW ~ ' A new post !!!!! ' ~

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Tue, 08 May 2012 05:51:00 +0000

I KNOW - I KNOW !!!!

- there are no excuses for this long of an absence from the blog and posting pictures - WAIT . . . yes there are. I've been busy. I was wrapped up in a few ' strange chases ' as they'd say. Running betwixt the sound. Ducking from the fury.

And now I return.

With proof of LIFE - and bearing GIFTS !!!!

The whole time I was actually hunkered down reading and trying things. ALL these pic's are from the ' Camera of the Mind ' - or, my mind - dirty lenses and all. That was the mission. I wanted to build, without stock reference, figures and settings imagined.

So there you go. I hope you enjoy these ' experiments ' and exercises.

I sure have ~ Ha Ha !!!

Halloween - 2011.

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Mon, 31 Oct 2011 16:33:00 +0000

To all on such a glorious night -

may all your 'CREEPS' come true !!!

Sweet tricks, and tricky treats ~ Jx

Forsaken

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Sat, 22 Oct 2011 16:35:00 +0000

This is what happens to you when you miss a ' home ' flight back to Earth, and your left behind, the only person, on a cooling research node deep in the outer fan :

You get torn to shivering strips of jelly by the locals.

Stupid Earth monkeys. At least they taste good.

The Hand

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Fri, 07 Oct 2011 03:23:00 +0000

Sometimes going downtown can be such a pain in the ass. You know - your just not in the 'mood' for it. Well this dude can testify to that. So much to look out for when your down there, cyclists, baby prams, kids, vagrants and, oh yeah - lets not forget . . . SCREAMING RAGING FLESH THIRSTY GIANT CARNIVOROUS GNASHING MOUTHED CRAZY FINGERED KILLER HANDS, that can occasionally 'pop' up.
Yep - sometimes the Park is just a better idea.

ROCKTOBERFEST

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Mon, 03 Oct 2011 04:33:00 +0000

Late days filled with long orange light. Tender grasses bending in the leaf rattled wind. Geese echoing thinly across distant harvest fields. Sweaters. A hot cup of tea, and . . . *&^@#%^ . . . WHAT ? ? ? ! ! !

Sigh . . . it was going to be such a nice fall . . . if it wasn't for those -

DAMNED ROCK & ROLL KIDS ! ! ! !

O.K. - So this is a poster I just designed, and executed for a 'Rockabilly' festival happening this month in Midland. I was approached by 'Honky - Tonk - Mike' to do it. And I dont think I've ever had a more interesting pitch than his - "James, I got a project here . . . right down your alley - think : half naked women, skulls, Rockabilly, hair grease, The Cramps, snakes, Halloween, motorcycles, Devils, etc - what'da ya think ???" 'Ummmm . . . . OF COURSE !!!'.

My expression said everything : "RRRAAAHHHHHHH !!!"

I was TOTALLY into it.

Mike has a great love for Rockabilly and Psychobilly music. He and his group of conspirators have brought numerous bands to the area for the last 10 years, and I hope they continue to do so for a long, long time. Rebels without a cause ? I think not.

These kids want to ROCK ! ! !

- Sketch Book - 2

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Mon, 25 Jul 2011 16:35:00 +0000

Here's a sampling of some pages from my sketch books from the last 6 months or so. I went with these pages because I feel they embody what I've been going for as of late. A sense of depth in the picture plane, an overlapping of elements within it, and a working with line weights and anatomy. I thought of tying names and small blurbs to the pieces, cause you know - there's ALWAYS a sub-text / story behind EVERYTHING !!! But - I reconsidered and decided to let the pieces simply be.
All were done on paper with graphite & markers / dip pens / brush. All coloring ( except for the colored matting ) was done by hand using water colors. Some pencil Crayon for the lettering . . . oh yeah, and lots of coffee !!!

                                                - Lettering by : Baily
                                                    ( see 'Holiday Shirts' & 'Teen Fly' )

DIM LIGHTS

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Tue, 28 Jun 2011 21:42:00 +0000

Welcome to : Strange Bend. On. Canada.

home of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ' DIM LIGHTS '

- Here's the idea . . .

Meet : Tod and Chad Lunceford.

                    Cousins. Friends. Co-accused. Self interested, self absorbed, but good natured. They careen through life pin balling from paradox to jam - to one in a million back to end of the world, and then back again. Somehow always making it. Even though the margins are often hair slim. Avid 'heads' - their activities and 'interests' lead them from deal to drop, buy to backroom. Their connected and their busy. Their 'trade' brings them into contact with many walks of 'life'.
Indirect or happen chance do - gooders, their benevolent feats are usually a lucky 'by-product' more than an intentional outcome. Their eyes focus more intuitively on the pulse of digital scales and watching for flashing lights, than scanning for incoming storms and helping campers. They just end up doing that, albeit, on their way back from making weed oil in an old 'sugar - shack' way down Charlie Smiths side-road. You know - on the way to 'score' they end up saving / helping / rescuing a bunch of cheerleaders that would have been eaten / incinerated / attacked by ant-men / aliens / were-wolves who were roaming / escaped / crashed in the hills.
The world is still very loosely formed. It's evolving daily. Essentially they are anti hero dudes that have crazy capers with weird characters who are being constantly assailed by monsters while getting wasted and partying. Sometimes working with the 'enemy' for common goals ( business ) sometimes having to take them on. Cause "like - why not . . . heh man ??? "
Sex, drugs and escaped government test 'chimps'. Super powered transsexuals, insect human hybrids, beings from other dimensions. All have residence in this 'Dim' world. Can you see it - a swamp creature creeping up on a bunch of guys on mushrooms head banging to Iron Maiden.

Awesome.

Maybe they punch out the creature ? Who knows. Maybe they get it high ?

The chaps live with their Aunt Dorthy. She couldn't give a shit about them. She doesn't mind their dealing, it keeps her in 'perks' anyhow. Bingo. Liquor and the bar. That's where shes at. And that's alright by the boys. This arrangement gives them plenty of lea-way to pursue their lifestyle. And pursue it they do. Busy, busy, busy - always on the run - if it's not a bunch of monsters on their tails - it's the cops.

Here's a couple of concept pieces I did of the guys. I also thought these might make interesting stories.

         THE WOKED -

                                              Chad runs across an escaped / resurrected mummy on his way home, in an 'off - limits' area of town known as the 'Fucked Lands'. After visiting their friend Mike, who having recently returned from British Columbia with 3 pounds of skunk. Chad decides to take a short cut through the 'Fucked lands' ( so named because of 'weird' things that have happened there - for years, that defy explanation - ) in a bid to save time and catch a new episode of Dallas, Chad enters. Looking about for a spot to use, he thinks he see's an old tool shed, or gardening building. After getting a dusty torch burning, and rolling the bat he sparks it up only to be interrupted by . . . . . . . . . . " ARRRAAGggghhhh . . . "

Needless to say he's winded when he gets home -

Todd - "Holy shit man - what the hell ?"
Chad panting - "Man, I just did the craziest thing !"
T - "What dude, are the cops coming here ???" Jumps up, looks out window.
C - "No man. I fought a homeless guy !!!"
T - "What ???"
C - "Yeah man - I stopped in an old shack I found in the Fucked Lands - well - "
T - "YOU WHAT ???"
C - "Man, I had to take a short cut - I'd miss Dallas, and NO WAY - I am not missing that !"
T - " So - wait, you go into the Fucked Lands, and then you fight a homeless guy ?"
C - "Well it's not like I wanted to -" Wiping a hand across his smirk -" I stopped to smoke a cone, you know - try it out -"
T - Suspiciously - "Yeah . . . ?"
C - "Yeah - well I get it going, and then I hear this noise - I guess I woked 'em - this FILTHY old dirt bag comes out wrapped in toilet paper - all Rahhhh - and shit, and tries to grab me -"
T - "Dude !" He is cut off by Chad in his excitement.
C - "Yeah, so I like jump to the side and when he comes around I kneed his balls out his mouth !!!"
T - "You what . . . didn't you hear . . . you don't know, do you ?"
C - "Know what man - ?" laughing.
T - "That was no homeless guy - that was the escaped mummy from that fucked up chemical spill thing down at the Airport, last week. He's been missing since then."
C - "W h a t t t ???"
T - "Looks like you found him dude." Tod howls, but not for too long - remembering - "DUDE - tell me . . . you got the dope ???"
C - "Oh yeah buddy - and it's G O O D ! ! ! "

Acrid smoke blues the chip bag air as the two boys are bathed in television glow.

THAT DAMNED THING -

Chad and Tod come across a repulsive and loathsome new form of life inside the abandoned home of Louise Brown, Tod's ex-girlfriend. They go over to her place, actually - to look under the back shed. You see - that's where Tod stashed all of his pornography. It was a good idea at the time - but now that he's been single for awhile, couple - few years, well, it's time to get the media back. Much to their surprise the home is abandoned. Never in too good of shape to start with, it took little time for the building to atrophy. Having not made it to the shed to search for nudy mags and VHS tapes yet, they decide to enter the house to snoop around.

And thats where they find . . . it !!!

I had an idea 'it' would be Mr. Mc Knavish. An old retired shop keeper from downtown. Nice enough, but - subtly malicious. He passed the years, tormenting and needling children. Pulling at the seams. Only to be institutionalized with dementia. He escapes / wanders off one night. But not just ANY night. For there was a stellar alignment of constellations, also - unknown to us humans, a multi-dimensional meshing, that created an energy hub in the diagonal negative fan. What does this mean : it means - old Mr. Meany wanderers right into the middle of this galactic hick-up and gets zapped. You see, the dementia as it takes away - for a period, also gives. And what we mistake for 'wandering thoughts' and 'day-dreaming' when you go to visit grandpa - is actually higher resonance tuning. They are convening with 'outer entities'. And that's what lead Mr. Mc Knavish to the intersection and his judging ground. That as it turned out - was in Louise's, former back yard. And for his 'crimes' he is turned, actually fused with a Wolf Spider that was passing too closely at the time. 'You lived enjoying seeing others dangling in webs - so as you had once postured - YOU SHALL BE !!! '

I thought it could be cool to have Mr. M - or, 'THAT DAMNED THING' as it comes to be known - fill the role of the wise / seer - advice giver. After finding him he forces the boys to swear to and be bound by an oath of secrecy. Mr. M - needs help, and the boys can be his 'arms and eyes' out there in the world. He also feels he needs to perform some 'good deeds' in an attempt to try to help reverse his punishment. In his new - cursed condition, not only was his body changed, but so was his mind. He can now 'see' into the future and clearly into the past. He perceives time completely differently than we do. And because of that, as things evolve - the boys come to value him more and more. So in return for the assistance, he does favors for the boys. He tells them things. He shows them things. He knows.

The Nanny

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 17:31:00 +0000

My name is Edward but they call me 'The Nanny'.

Down at the office they do at least. It's a nickname. A stupid annoying nickname. More of a shit covered thorn that's twisted into my side ritually. But you smile and bear it. It's a good job. The pay is excellent. And besides, I just got so damned bored with labor jobs, I had to find something else. I'm not getting any younger you know. Ah, anyway - their good 'folks', the 'gang' - down at the office. Yeah. Real good folks. A real team. And on our team I get the job of taking all the newbies out to 'pop their cherries'. First tours. Threshold Eddie - the 'Coach'.

Give me a break.

Most often - it's a one way trip, for them, the new guys at least. It usually doesn't go so well. And the only 'cherries' getting popped are the well groomed and nice smelling orbs these young dudes have their faces stuck to. Like Mr. Good looking over there . . . in about 8.5 seconds, when the air is gonna have more lead in it than oxygen, and he is magically transformed into the incredible exploding lasagna head, whats he gonna say then . . . what - ? Nothing. So wrapped up with his life, it's ironic that's whats going to end it for him. His distraction. And believe me - I try to help. But you cant tell ANYTHING to a 23 year old. No way.
They KNOW it all !!!
Well, wait and see. I almost shot him myself on the drive over here - all his new piece - and his hair. "Oh wow man - this is a Beretta . . . my stereo . . . you should see the date I got tonight . . . we went skiing in Banff . . . blah, blah -" BANG ! ! !

And that's it. I clean them up. I clean him up. I make it look good. I cover the tracks. I point arrows in other directions, and I'm gone.

They should call me something cool, like - I don't know, 'The Shadow' - or - 'The Ghost'. But they don't. I have a handle. I've gotten used to it. It goes with the job. Oh shit - what the hell does anybody know, hey ? It's all part of a days work when your . . . . . . . . 'The Nanny'.

The Terrible Genie ~ LEK TARIK

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Sat, 21 May 2011 06:20:00 +0000

In cartoon and fantasy land Genies are alright. They play jokes. Ride flying carpets. Fool around, tell riddles and have fun. No big deal. Saturday morning stuff. Rub the lantern and - ' F O O M !!! ' Instant kooky blue friend. Well . . . ah - not really.
In this world, in the advent, that you were to run across a Genie, well - that's it - I'd say run. But that's no good. Your screwed. And your 'Super special' screwed - if you were to come across this creature.
The 'Terrible Genie' LEK TARIK.

Only a few rare individuals have managed to survive a meeting with it. It is said that Lek Tarik was once a man. A noble and generous man. Who in an attempt to save the life of a child trapped in a burning hall of timbres - was killed. It was no accident. There was no child. There was nothing but the fire. And the trap he had fallen into. He was mislead and killed for his riches by one of his lovers and a band of her dark cohorts. In his last furious cries he cursed them - 'All of them -' . . . . all humanity, all their small greedy hearts untill the end of time. He swore vengeance. And the flames carried him away. And years moved past without mind and without notice.

Then he returned.

Set loose from the 6th 'fold' he materialized here on the 'matter plane' to exact his revenge. And on the unwise and covetous he began. His payments are screams. And red coins falling, one splat at a time. On first appearing and greeting humans, he offers them a wish -

" What one thing could you want . . . what desires have . . . y o u ? "

And they always get it wrong.

The only way to survive an encounter with Lek Tarik, is to not ask for material possessions. To not request money or gold. To not think of your own desires, but to ask for your life. That is the only thing that matters.
You have to be clear and precise about it. If you say " Please, I want to survive this encounter . . " You will. Minus a foot, or most of an arm. Practically skinned. Blinded. And scared forever. But . . . you'll live. Lek loves to give people what they want.
No. You have to be very, very clear with it. You have to tell it exactly what you want.
" I want you to leave me alone. You will not hurt me. You will not kill me. You will leave me / we / us - ALONE. BE GONE !!!"
Thats it. The only route.
So put away the pepper spray and brass knuckles and relax. As long as your honest and humble you have nothing to worry about . . . . . right ???

The Prey

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Sun, 08 May 2011 19:20:00 +0000

Well . . . it was supposed to be just another routine flight for Nit, Service Cadet - class 3 shuttle pilot. Between the Verla 4 - Solar Reaping Station and Termosse. Central processing grounds and sub-orbital loading platforms of Leckctll. A busy space port brimming with vessels and trade.
And it was, until our friend, Nit decided it might be advantageous to stop off on the small heavily forested sixth sub moon of Neelom -Vell. An uninhabited cluster of, well ... barely planet classed planets, just outside the Main system. You see - on the sub-moons that spin round Neelom -Vell, there grows an elusive and very valuable fungus. Chor. Now, Chor itself is of no worth other than in regards to the pollen jelly that accumulates on the underside of the outer growth wings it extends at seeding time.
Well that's fine. But when you consider the fungus only spores once every 35 years, and it's worth 1000 times more per niccrom weight measure than Trill dust - the 'high' lasts 12 - 17 days, it enhances the cognitive functions of the user and increases performance on all levels of activity. Leaves a subtle resonance of well being. No hangover. No addiction. Only byproduct is a 'glowy' complexion and stronger nails. And a passive increase in Psychic ability. It's virtually undetectable when scanned for. Either in raw form or suspended in neural system fluids of the user - i.e. - substance screens do not work on it !!! Well, you can start to get an idea of it's attraction.
So . . . intrepid, brave, fortune seeking, unwise Nit, takes the shuttle down to have a look. You see a fellow pilot had passed on info to him, two rotations ago at Sental, a hot night club in one of the recreation and living zones in the platform. That Chor was possibly blooming - " Out there on one of those tangled balls of shlagg they keep trying to call planets - Ah ha ha ha ha !!!" Well Nit was listening. He heard. He planned. He silently moved all the neccessary pieces together.
And thats what brought him to this little sub-moon of Neelom -Vell. That universal motivator - greed. He thought he could cash - in. Get the pay off. Put out almost no effort, other than sneaking around with a company shuttle - for maximum payoff. Right on !!!
Well actually - wrong on. Nit in his haste and avarice - didn't stop to monitor frequency bands of any kind before he dove into the moons atmosphere. Had he, he might have picked up stacked qualon pulses, that are not hard to pick up, coming up from the deep forests below. If he had heard them, then he would have known that the only things that transmit on that clunky and prehistoric wave length are Gimpp Krutts. And their horribly bad news. Because Gimpp Krutts are the 'muscle' for Tagwarns. Filthy. Ruthless, space mercenaries and frontier opportunists. Essentially pirates by any other name.
And so after a short time Nit comes across what could be a stand of Chor. He moves in closer, his nostrils contract. "Whew - that rotting smell. Thats it. Thats Chor !!!"

And then - it all went to hell.

Had he been paying attention, he would have noticed the squealer - probes, hovering off in the green black periphery. Dim blue electric eyes watching him. But he didn't.

And then the trees parted . . . e x p l o d e d - and he was dealing with a Gimpp Krutt - first order. Lucky ( ? ) for Nit he had a service blaster, but that would be of little service to him. Gimpps are incredably strong and well put together. His only hope was to try to get to cover, but considering the Gimpp droid was tearing apart the forest trying to stop anyone from taking any jelly on behalf of the Tagwarns - things were not looking so good.

"Maybe I should have stayed on course . . . . oh, stupid, stupid, stupid . . . "

His lamentations were drowned out by the shrieking and grinding of the machine.

Tattoo Design

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Sat, 30 Apr 2011 17:29:00 +0000

O.K. ~

                   Here's a Tattoo design I did up for my old friend - J.T. Templeton the 3rd. He was blowing through town recently when I bumped into him. Seems he's around for a bit in between jobs. Said he was coming back from Alaska - "Up there things is different . . . doin some caged bear fightin. . . . nothin but a knife and your balls to pull you through !!!" I was out blow gun hunting some spring hares. He was meditating, nude, on a fallen log in the back of the Tiny Marsh when I came across him. Needless to say - in two seconds I was on my back in four inches of slime with a Bowie knife pressed across my juggler - then he recognized me - " Hey man. Whats up ?" Fucking hit men are so cool !!!
                       Well I got up and we caught up - and after racing a couple of old mustangs out to Cedar point and back, ( that ending in a ball of flame and a young french girls heart broken (( he just looks at women and they go C R A Z Y !!! )) we sat down and that's where the idea of the tat came up. "I had a job I wuz on fur a group of 'investors' " He said. " - the work took me to the Philippines. Anyway, after a whole bunch of shit and tangle I ended up in a drain pipe filled with scorpions - and I had to chew my way out !!!" I just looked at him. "So - I thought I'd get this little guy to remind me" He lit his cigarette by shooting the end of it with a . 32 caliber Derringer he whipped from his boot - " I wanted it to remind me that life is precious, you know - to take in the beauty." He exhaled. " You know what I mean ?" I just smiled and nodded and went and grabbed my sketch book.
                        We bounced some ideas back and forth over a couple of sit downs - in public spaces, and some secret meetings elsewhere. We came up with this. The Scorpion in perspective over Mars. He likes Mars - birth planet - Zodiac. Planet of war - symbolic / mythological. Red - cool color. So I did up the semi-final designs, we proofed them - and then went ahead with coloring.
                        In conclusion : It was very nice to see him again, and he was very happy and excited when I presented the finished design to him. He was so happy in fact he told me he even disarmed the plasma mines he had hid in the bush beside my house - WHAT ??? "Nothing personal you know, just hav'ta cover all the bases." God damned contract mercenary Intel - agents . . . . you just never know !!!