J.H. Schmitz Art

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 !!!

The Gladiator

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Tue, 26 Apr 2011 15:41:00 +0000

Prangkt knew it was wrong thinking to go venturing into Sakall 3 looking for employment. It was one of the biggest shit holes in the five lateral sectors - but he did it anyway. Driven by those universal motivators sustenance and shelter - he went. Stepping cautiously into the deep shadows of the entrance tunnel . . . how many days ago now . . . he couldn't remember. He moved forward - and then it all went black.
Judging by the throbbing and pulsing at the back of his head he could tell he was drugged. Must have been that froth vine cream he was handed by those Skouds. And to think he always held Skouds in high regard before. Little blue jerks. And then a flashing of lights and the sensation of heat and pressure. Only to wake to find himself with handling loops fully installed into his body. Aggression stimulator chips sunk deep into the soft tissues of his sub - brain. And threats, threats, threats. Oh, and the Circullo Beetle Sap they are now trying to get him addicted to. Great - just flipping great !
"Ahhhh . . . I really did it this time . . ." Prangkt thought as he was being dragged to his first match. But things have a funny way of balancing themselves out. And if the Repsectian guard was paying more attention to his captive slave, than indulging his meandering thoughts in the copulation trenches he looked forward to visiting at the end of his shift - he would have noticed a sly long grin starting on the face of his Veelunian captive - a long hard cold sharp edged smile. For little known to the guard or his superiors, for he arrived without papers on that needful eve - they had just grabbed and have been tormenting and mishandling PRANGKT - the terror of the inversion wars - butcher of the embryo caverns - impaler of every last Terdt, half dead or still running at the end of the Claussian Battles. Sole mutilator of the poisoned convents and their repulsive occupants on Station 343 near the edge of the Induus Belt. Assassin of Bwunder the Cruel. Dispatcher of thousands of souls. Reaper. Lover. Tormentor. Gladiator . . . . P R A N G K T !!! Boy are they in T R O U B L E now !!!

E A S T E R madness -

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Mon, 18 Apr 2011 16:11:00 +0000

ALRIGHT ~ It's spring and that means it's time for more ridiculous cult ritual celebrations by our mono-theist friends and nieghbours. So when a star isn't guiding shepherds to sheds to watch waifs being born into filth along side chattel - it's what - a fat man riding flying caribou who leaves gifts for you by jumping down your chimney ? Wow - who handed out the L.S.D. at breakfast this morning ???
O.K. - so the spring festival is the topper for me - a tortured man, nailed to lumber, thrown into a cave, who only ..... RISES FROM THE DEAD three days later !!! What ??? Holy walking zombies Batman !!! Oh yeah, and lets not forget the canabalistic aspects of this cultist behaviour - eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the slain. Awesome !!! Thank [ something ] these people are 'civilized' Who knows what they could get up to if they weren't. Whew !!!
So - I thought I'd post this in lieu of the approaching 'holiday' - cause, like Scoob - people aren't going to get it. The chances of being accused of some 'awful' perspective ( philosophically / ideologically ) run high !!! And the irony is .... the finger pointing and suspicion will come from the cultists - because I made a red man with bat wings instead of - what .... a skinny hippie long hair who's supposed to save the world by running around telling people to love each other. Good work J.C. - look around - it's really catching on. And considering most people I talk to about this stuff ( religion ) only fiend adherence to those ridiculous systems out of coercion and threat - "You'll burn FOREVER if you don't tow the party line !!!" It seems desperate and sad. And also a hudge drive for capaital and financial gain. Fascists. Desperate...... scared...... heads in the sand little fascists.

Oh well....... more fairy tales in the land of the strange. Each to their own.

Peace & Love - and free chocolate ~ Uncle - J i m

ZINE ~ 3

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Tue, 12 Apr 2011 18:22:00 +0000

The wind in trees that you hear but never see.

The idea of time that seems to live only on the face of a clock.

The chanting of memories like drums in your mind.

The constant leaving and arriving of things.

Shadows always present -

no matter how bright the sun.

( Recommended Listening : 'Burn Girl Prom Queen' by Mogwai. Album : EP 6 )

back & front Cover

pg 1 & 2

pg 3 & 4

pg 5 & 6

Holiday Shirts

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Wed, 12 Jan 2011 06:54:00 +0000

So - it was the Holiday Season. A time of scared poultry, slain trees and Yuletide wreaths. Chocolate, Candy canes, red eyes and baked goods. Dreamy snow filled evenings trimmed with blinking lights, back lit with the glow of burning credit cards and the smell of fresh ground nutmeg. Oh yeah, and GIFTS !!!!

This year I wanted to do something really excellent for Baily, My Girlfriend Nicole's five year old son. But what do you get a five year old . . . ?

Lasers ?

Rockets ?

A small ( child size ) vial of Dark matter . . . . who knows ?

Well, after considering how much he LOVED 'Teen Fly' and 'Camera 5' ( she told me one night, after I asked her about gift ideas for him ) I thought -

" Ah - HA - there it is old boy - gifts the

little wild man would love !!! "

So I went ahead and refreshed the designs.

Printed them up and ironed them on. I was planning on having them professionally done, but then I considered his growth rate. In a year he might not even be able to wear them. So that's why I did them at home, and that way I can do them again, and again for him when he is ready. ( either outgrown, or destroyed or both ) ~ ah, hahahahahahaha !!!!!!

They turned out well and it was fun revising some old designs. Cropping, moving and rebuilding them.

And of course, watching him run

around in them is an excellent thing as well !!!

I'm very glad he likes them, for I had no idea where in the Hell to find any Dark matter. They were fresh out at the Mall.

FEED BACK ~ Vol 2

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Tue, 28 Dec 2010 06:57:00 +0000

The thin curtains sighed and fell as the breeze withdrew.

Far away across the hot woods something changed.

A subtle push. An inhalation.

And then damp mouthfuls across our summer skin.

Outside the grasses and weeds looked as if they were shivering, dissolving in the sinking green light.

Sounds in the brittle brown undergrowth.

Dangerous soft rustling. Edging in the shade.

Your eyes, Deer like, looked down.

No words.

And the thin dirty laces in your sneakers.

Back & Front Cover

pg 1 & 2

pg 3 & 4

pg 5 & 6

- S k e t c h B o o k -

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Wed, 15 Dec 2010 08:02:00 +0000

Here are some pages and images from my sketch book from over the last few months. Its been nice working 100 % old school > > > pen and ink, gouache, graphite, Chinese ink and water color on paper. Playing with ideas. Roughing them out. Grabbing things as they come into focus. These pages turned out best so I thought I'd share them.

Watch for lights & listen for sirens ~ J. S.

* * __________________________________________________________ * *

Z I N E ~ # 1. ' F E E D B A C K '

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Sat, 11 Dec 2010 00:27:00 +0000

O.K. Campers - L E T S P A R T Y !!!!

                                                   Here's my Zine : ' FEED BACK '   > as in guitars and vocal mics screeching, lights flashing, coffee tables shaking, pets hiding . . . feed back.
I've been wanting to do this for awhile, as I was desiring a way, a forum, a platform to fuse my collage, rip it up, stream of consciousness, note making, captured words and phrases, just go for it mash it up stuff - all in one place. And here it is.
So after snooping around online I had a 'flash' and thought I'd try it. I based it around the old single sheet of 8.5 / 11 inch copy paper folded top to bottom, then left side to right. Staple on fold. Cut off top = Zine. I wanted double sided - so I went a picked up some very heavy stock paper. Then it occurred to me - " Like WOW Scoob - I'm going to blow all my snack money on ink and paper . . . . . aaaahhhhhh !!! "
So I started planning.
Inspiration and illuminated ideas nearly tricked me into purchasing a laser printer, so I could "pound 'em out, and spread 'em around." ( I'm still an analogue kid at heart. You know - hold it in your hands, smell it, put in your mouth kind of a creature ) Well after pricing them and then figuring out that laser printers are costly, and ink cartridge refills are like a MILLION $$$$, I realized I had to find a more efficient and cost effective solution. And here it is. Online publishing ( kind of - ??? ha ha -) Anyway - as I already mentioned, this is an excellent 'arena' to roll up my varied peripheral interests in and put them forth. Collage and Photography are strange birds that come to visit my cave randomly. I wake up - and POW >>> there they are. Cawing and squawking at the entrance - calling me out with their shinning dark wings.
So the way it works is - the back cover is on the left, the right side the front. I posted it this way so you can enjoy the 'spread' of the pages, as you would, if you were holding a copy. Its a mix of found object / image, and also my own photographs.
So crank up some snacks - slip those head phones on if the kids are sleeping and plug in to FEED BACK ~ Vol 1.

Enjoy Irresponsibly - J.H.S.

      Back & Front Cover

pg 1 & 2

pg 3 & 4

pg 5 & 6

Stephan Kramp Campaign Piece

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Wed, 20 Oct 2010 04:01:00 +0000

This is a piece I just did for Stephan kramp. He's running for Deputy Mayor in Midland this year. Its a post-card that will be sent out with the mail delivery to homes across the region. 9000 to be exact, Stephan said. He's a very cool guy with an excellent disposition. It was a pleasure working with him. Stephan's very patient and kind, and that worked out well when dealing with a temperamental Artist, who occasionally breaths fire ~ me ( ha ha !!! ) Stephan's balanced ideas and practical approach made this a very fun and enjoyable job. From start to finish. It was great. And I don't know if I've ever seen a client so happy with the finished product when they received it. It was total fun. Thanks man -

Whips & Cobras ~ JIM

Timmy

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Wed, 20 Oct 2010 03:29:00 +0000

Things were going fine until Timmy ate some of that weird candy he found on the bus this morning. Fine. Then something started to happen. His skin became textured with boils and hives, pain bloomed like fizzing pop inside his flesh. Shimmering lines of pressure snapped in his periphery. Pulse lumbering, breath feeling inverted, black paint flowing through his veins. His hands shaking he lurched forward, the world an obscenity of color and sound, pressing - leaning in on him. He bolted for the washroom.

When he came out they were waiting.

A bunch of the guys, he thought they were his friends - until Chip brought the Axe handle down across his neck. But that was awhile ago now. He's been running for a good forty minutes - the pressure in his skull drawing little attention, compared to the knife wounds and broken glass in his back. " The dogs, oh man, the dogs - the barking - THEIR BRINGING THE DOGS . . . Whats wrong with those guys . . . . . . don't they know it's me . . . . . . . . TIMMY ???? "

You're Mine

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Thu, 16 Sep 2010 09:25:00 +0000

It's Autumn ... ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ... harvest. A time for sweaters and baked goods. Long walks and holding hands. Tasty snacks, changing sky's and killers lurking behind every god damned stalk of corn in the county.
What can I say . . . I LOVE FALL !!!

The Chopper ~ 'Ol' Choppy'

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Wed, 04 Aug 2010 17:05:00 +0000

When the going gets weird - the weird start CHOPPING . . . . . . this was a mantra I was raised with. And in keeping with that and embracing my heritage ( German ) I thought I'd get down to business. Because, as you well know - we all have 'those days' when the best tool to solve those 'problems' and clear those 'obstacles' would be the flash of metal and a soft red ringing. Ah, but that's so like 'Ol' Choppy' now, isn't it ?
This is a quick digital sketch I did ( self portrait ) to just play around with color and composition. I wasn't that keen on it, but it was with my girlfriends encouragement that I decided to post it. She thought it cool, so - hey - here's to you Nicole - your COOL !!! Love : Ol' Choppy - xoxo

Teen Fly

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Sat, 31 Jul 2010 17:25:00 +0000

We've all been there. Pimply, nervous and young. Standing in the shadows, writhing in our own skins. Not knowing why you went to the school dance, but showed up anyway. Maybe it's just mating desires and a strong drive for rotting organic materials that incited you - who knows ? And Teen Fly is no exception. Witness our friend adrift in the post maggot / adolescent arena - desperately searching for connection. Awash in sheets of sound. Synthesizers and drum machines woven through the cheap perfume. Head buzzing. Lights flashing in his compound eyes. Ready for anything . . . . kinda -

Editorial Cartoons Published in The Midland Mirror

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 02:42:00 +0000

INTRO :
Back in the spring of this year I heard about changes that town council had made to the law of entry act in Midland. I was incensed. Storming around threatening to write a letter to the editor, it occurred to me - "Hey man- your an Artist - do an editorial cartoon instead !" So I did. I phoned the editor of the Midland Mirror and asked if I could submit an editorial cartoon protesting what I felt was a violation of our constitutional rights under the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms. We spoke and after seeing the piece, he agreed to run it. Cool. I asked him if he thought the citizenry of Midland would like submissions by a local artist on local matters, instead of the obligatory hand me down from their parent paper. We agreed to a small run to see how things would go. Well, they went great !!! The first cartoon stirred a lot of interest. As did the following pieces I submitted. They addressed issues that I felt were / are important in the context of the towns life. Surprisingly some of the other pieces drew even harsher criticisms. People mistook parody as condemnation. Exaggeration as judgment and opinion as slander. I don't know ? Anyhow - in all of this stink, people sending in flaming mad letters to the editor saying I was slamming Midland, accusing me of some form of dissent, and of course angry town councilors demanding my phone number and email from the Editor, so they could chastise me for exercising my right to freedom of speech ( I know - how dare I ? ) Led to CBC Radio One, contacting me for an on air radio interview, that took place on May 5th 2010. It went well and I voiced my opinions. I don't know if anybody on town council heard it ? If they did - their not saying. So you see - the pen IS mightier than the sword !!! Ha ha !!! ( but I still really like swords ) Really.

# 1 - Bylaw.

Essentially I wanted to get the point across, that - unless your invited - IT'S TRESPASSING !!! I find it hilarious that ANY TOWN EMPLOYEE ( dog catcher, meter reader etc ... ) is entitled to free access of your property, at any time. With no fore warning or announcement. They have to ask to enter your dwelling, and if refused, they return with a search warrant, and if refused again - a nice $ 100,000.00 fine for you. Oh that's great, just g- r- e- a- t !!! Good going people - Freedom it up - YEAH !!!

# 2 - Heavy Garbage.

Yeah - way to go guys !!!!!! Cancel heavy garbage pick up day. Genius? Or not. Maybe the elderly and lower income families don't think it's so great as say, the councilors do ? Oh yeah - the councilors can most likely AFFORD to have their clutter trucked away.
Why do we keep repeating the past ? Let them eat cake - again, and tragically - again.

# 3 - Parking.

O.K. Instead of encouraging people to come to the down town core by throwing an incentive out there, like - ummmm - free parking ? They decide to raise it. Great !!! Just what everyone needs. More costing. People shat their pants over this one. how dare I depict the Easter Bunny - of all things, smoking and drinking. Ahhhhhhhhhh - what next ???
( I find it funny people were more offended by the depiction of a FICTITIOUS character, than by the rape of their freedoms { piece #1 } or their wallets ? )
Should I laugh or cry ?

# 4 - Busses and Cabs.

Another charmer that filled the air with the buzzing of angry insects. All I was trying to say was, "Hey - if you settle down on the fare hikes and metering the cabs ( in Midland they have a flat cab rate around town - $ 5 - anywhere !!! ) maybe you might entice more traffic in the down town business core ?" Seems logical to me. But somehow people misconstrued this as a giant slander against the business owners of down town Midland. I don't know - I thought I was fighting for them ? "Come on down and buy something nice, oh you cant - you spent all your money on just getting here. Oh well, have some cake !!!"

# 5 - V.E. Day.

Not much to say about this one except, I respect all military personnel past and present. I deeply enjoy the PRIVILEGE of living in a free and democratic society. And I believe it's our duty to protect this freedom.

# 6 - Elections.

Well, it's pretty obvious how I feel about the circus we call politics. Oh no - watch out - Bozo might squirt you with his flower. Wait a second - oh yeah, just don't vote them in again !!!

# 7 - Messy Elections.

This quaint sketch depicts the Mayor, Jim Downer, putting Gord McKay, a fellow town councilor, and newly declared Mayoral competitor, through the 'grinder' for 'speaking up' at council meetings and public debates. The Mayor has been known to be 'temperamental' and a little 'emotional' with his remarks and responses. Especially towards his fellow councilors. Or those that oppose him. He also used to be a butcher.
I found this funny along with some - others did not. Well, you cant please them all.

The Job

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Sat, 24 Jul 2010 17:54:00 +0000

O.K. You know as well as I do that good tools equal a good job. And in the world of 'disappearing' things and 'solving problems' - tools are everything. Such is the case with this 'craftsman' you see here. He's just a hard working chap trying to get it right. Doing his best to keep his temper - hold a clear mind, not get hung up on anything, and breath. Because losing your cool over the little things in life can get to you, and become very exhausting indeed.

" Right on - well that went quicker than planned, time enough for a quick smoke, then off to Yoga class, a stop at the health food store for Tofu - and home for a bath . . . Nice !!! "

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

When I had drawn and inked this piece I had some ideas for dialogue, but honestly - I didn't really like them. So I asked my fellow collaborator / conspirator - friend of mine, John Barber Williams, who is a writer, if he could cook up some fun narrative / dialogue for this, and thankfully he did. His response was awesome, five different versions - most gracious. Thanks John !!! I think the process was a little backwards - but, oh well. Like they say - " Get 'er done boys - get 'er done !!! " I hope you enjoy !

Gretel

noreply@blogger.com (J.H Schmitz) — Wed, 07 Jul 2010 06:45:00 +0000

Oh, those CRAZY KIDS !!! Always goofing about in the forests like that, eating candy and escaping murderous witches, Ahhhhhh . . . childhood !!!