Nate Beaty's Journal

Party Like it's 1999 in 2011

Sun, 3 Jul 2011 03:18:11 PST

Way back in 1999, in the midst of my 5-year computer hiatus, I mocked internet and television with this gem in the first issue of Brainfag:

Twelve years later, not only is the concept not as far fetched as it was when people still had 20” TVs with knobs and 15-lb cathode-ray computer monitors, I live it every day:

Five Push-ups for Blog

Wed, 18 May 2011 17:16:36 PST

Poor Blog. Are you feeling old? Left behind? Still mumbling scathing invectives about Facebook and Twitter between gritted, coffee-and-cigarette-stained teeth? Still threatening to end it all, nobody cares anyway, what’s the point, anything beyond 140 characters or 2 minutes old is nothing but digital dust?

Don’t worry, you have one use left. A parking garage for aging, disparate bits and belches! Don’t cry, Blog. Here, read this to the people:

I drew a 11-page comic about my breakdancing days for the KIDS anthology. I’m pretty sure this is the funnest thing I’ve ever drawn. During the writing & inking, I spent a week watching ’80s breakdancing movies and only listened to the Breakin’ and Beat Street soundtracks and random hip hop dj sets recorded on the radio 25 years ago.

Click image and Blog will show the story bigger to your eyeballs:

Here are some random illustration jobs and jubilations:

T-shirt for my pal Alex’s birthday. Funny once you realize that “philately” is pronounced “phil-late-uh-lee”, which took me about 3 months to learn after drawing it.

This is a Japanese dragon, with three claws, for the great Free Comic Book Day kid’s activity book, Dragons!, put out by Tugboat Press.

I inexplicably drew a penis on Lisa Hanawalt’s girl dog, Indy.

Urging my overbearded buddy Alec to finish Basewood postehaste.

I put together a website for my cousin Johnelle’s furniture and french funk boutique in Berkeley, mignonnedecor.com

.. along with a site for her awesomemom Kimberlee’s boutique, located in beautiful Brantome, France, thebohemians.fr

This is the year for weddings! My longtime friend Scott was among the newlies, and I designed and printed the invitation for him and Cat:

Once again, click image and Blog will show all the invitation pages, bigger to your eyeballs:

While in Portland, I also renewed my passion for an old flame of 20th century technology: film. Jake and I roamed around shooting photos of Bongmobiles and water towers which he developed over beers. Upon returning home, I developed, scanned and uploaded an annoyingly large number of photos to my flickr. Here’s a small sampling:

There’s more as I’ve actually been quite busy despite the silence. But I’ll let you rest, Blog. You’re wheezing so hard, I’m afraid you’re going to keel over. Rest. More soon.

Run Scully Run

Thu, 3 Feb 2011 18:12:11 PST

The X-Files aired just as I was entering my extreme luddite phase, dropping out of computer science classes and heading for the woods. Now that I’ve settled into my mid-30s eating snacks and staring at a constant streaming Netflix connection, I’ve started catching up with the adventures of scintillating Scully and melancholic Mulder. It’s a pretty consistently great show. There are definitely some turds (I’m only up to season 5 so far), but I’m regularly impressed by the level of writing and production values. Great show. Worth the hype.

One of my favorite elements, besides scenes of Mulder crying, is when Scully has to run. She really moves, and it cracks me up every time. I figured there must be a collection of scenes of her running somewhere on the net, but alas, I’m going to have create my own.

From season 4, episode 24: Gethsemane.

Sidenote, Gillian Anderson and I share a personal quote: “When I think of normal, I think of mediocrity, and mediocrity scares the fuck out of me!”

When I Get Old

Wed, 19 Jan 2011 01:40:28 PST

My 11-yo niece Hannah has me pegged. She just sent me this gem of a drawing:

“here is you when you get old. you will eat, fart, draw and yawn all day.”

The kicker is: I’m apparently already old as she just described my daily routine of the last 2 years. Today I removed my beard to make sure this drawing was as accurate as possible.

One is the Loneliest Pancake You'll Ever Make From Scratch

Wed, 15 Dec 2010 05:59:42 PST

I make myself pancakes from scratch and it’s really easy and I’m still single so what of it. This isn’t groundbreaking food science here, but I thought I’d share just in case you had no idea that you could make your own sadsack self a stack o’ cakes super fast in the morning to push away the crushing black cloud of winter malaise for another 15 minutes. These go really well with coffee that is strong enough to punch your brain in the face.

Put your cast iron on the stove, get it pipin’ hot.

Put these in a bowl and stir with a fork:

1/2 cup of FLOUR
1T POWDER of BAKING
1 DASH of SALT or TWO or THREE whatever gets your skirt up
1T SUGAR
if you like to poop, throw in some FLAX SEEDS

Put this in your pyrex and smoke it:

1 cup of MILK (i drink SOY, oh boy)
1 EGG
1T OIL of VEGETABLES

Combine, don’t overmix, toss the butter on the skillet, salivate.

Pour the goop.

Wait for the bubbles.

Flip with skill.

Nom.

Slightly gross, unnecessary, out of sequence, repetitious photos illustrating something:

don’t get FLOUR on your ISAAC THE PIRATE book, dork!

HULK SMASH EGG with ONE HAND. oops, shells

Do the dishes? BAHA zzz

Six Weeks to Determine if I'm Bumpkin or Metrosexual

Sat, 18 Sep 2010 00:43:11 PST

I’ve weathered two Chicago winters. Well, that isn’t entirely accurate. The first was blissful solitude, almost like a full year of the Vacation Sensation, having freshly replanted myself from LA with office job and clunky car and failing relationship and drooling cat. I went from a sweltering eternal 72º in smog-drizzled California to a frigid 10º midwest winter, replete with biblical thunderstorms and frozen mega lakes. I went from bike-blind, hollywood-drunk, perpetually texting drivers to bike-blind homicidally indifferent drivers. From.. well, yeah, you get it. 180º. U-turn. Flip-flop.

My first year in Chicago, fully expressed in 4 panels.

One year of zero responsibilities, boozing it up and drawing with newfound creative juice! And raising hell with the motley Trubble Club gang. Somehow avoiding the ever-elusive task of Crafting The Big Story For The Big Book I Will Draw Some Day Motherfuck. Yes! This is the life!

My second year in Chicago had a bit less of that new city sheen. I was in the same apartment, going to the same taqueria which I had settled on as the winner within walking distance, alternating weekly between a lush and teetotaler, a lazy bum and a devoted jogger. I managed to get quite a bit of drawing and webdesigning done, yet also sometimes woke up with hangovers bad enough to consider calling an ambulance. Thankfully I instead realized watching Pee Wee’s Big Adventure and nursing a cup of ginger-honey tea while propped up in bed against a wall of pillows, while slightly rocking and humming “ohhhhhhhh” for a few hours did the trick to bring me back to life. Nothing makes you feel more idiotic than drinking enough (by yourself no less) to puke. What the hell is the point of that? None. No point. Just a lack of recognizing “good buzz ok stop no need to keep slurping.” Back to teetotaling for 3 weeks! Rinse, repeat.

I decided I’d move back to Oregon and go rural. Hell, my whole adult life has been an alternating existence between the woods and ye olde concrete jungle. I visited Oregon for our yearly camping trip and suddenly remembered just how goddamn honky Oregon is. I looked at property to buy on the outskirts of various towns and cities, and I often felt like I was looking at stills from Deliverance. I imagined myself moving in, three months down the line, dead silent and pitch black outside, sitting at my sad little table with a desk light, sipping whiskey and trying to draw a page of comics. Good god man, what was I thinking? I’m trapped! (Insert slo-mo NOOOOOO footage.)

Despite my indecision, I told my Chicago property overlords I would not be renewing their required lease for a third round. So now I have six weeks to decide. Rustic shack or happenin’ bachelor pad apartment?

I do really like the idea of an acre+ along a river, about 15-20 minutes from decent groceries and a movie theater, live music, a good comic/book store, etc, equipped with a simple dwelling that isn’t miserable to live in and one I can putz around fixing and adding onto. Garden, woodshop, computer/drawing studio. The funny thing is I’m describing almost exactly the setups I had while living on Orcas Island, minus owning the property, ten years ago.

I’m just tired of so many goddamn cars and pollution and noise and crime. It’s charming to a certain extent, then quickly becomes miserable. But I love a real transit system, being able to live without a car, being around a ton of creative people, constantly having things going on, the ability to eat out late and to eat out well and to eat out cheaply, the plethora of attractive ladyfolk that seem to flock to urban areas (however unapproachable they may be), and the general sense that I’m living in an actual pulsing group-human-heartbeat. As opposed to being the minor human blip in an otherwise more natural earthy heartbeat.

That said, I like the idea even more of living now & then in New York, Chicago, LA, Portland, France, South Korea, etc — but also having 1-5 acres in a beautiful quiet sleepytown that I can retreat to for months at a stretch and write, relax, reset, and be still. Unfortunately, that requires lots of cash, which I’ve never been too talented in accruing. I currently have a nice little safety egg with zero debt, but it would disappear (and then some) if I decide to buy property.

In short: I don’t know what the fuck to do. I’m now 35, I feel like I should have figured this out. I love many parts of Chicago, and I’m terribly bored sometimes (gasp! that’s new) alternating with feeling sharp & on track & creative & present, then depressed and seeing absolutely no point in getting up. I don’t like that boredom and depression have become an element of what used to be a clear and driven existence. I can’t necessarily blame that on Chicago, I could be anywhere, this just happened to be where I was when it stuck its tar-coated teeth into my being.

Truthfully, I wonder how much it has to be with my being a fully-engaged 21st century human in an increasingly insane age. With my iPhone, iPad, constant internet, Hulu, Netflix, bittorrents, Wii, PlayStation 2, digital projector, giant DSLR camera, podcasts & mp3s — essentially I’ve crafted a constant stream of media input I can’t resist. I’ve drunk heavily and am once again a bit hungover on the technology, but there’s apparently no escaping. I mean it can be done, but it’s become a sort of social suicide. Hell, maybe it truly is worthwhile to selfishly cut the cord of Virtual Life and return to a slower existence where you’re only connected to those you physically run into. It honestly sounds equally terrifying and blissful.

The giant irony being, of course, that I’m typing this on my laptop to post on my personal website. Jesus christ, is this living large in 2010? I feel like I’m being whisked along in a sea of illuminated corn syrup being nuzzled by electric fish, my eyeballs doused by a pH-balanced waterfall of television and movies, moving nowhere fast, satiated, bloated, pleasantly intoxicated, oh wait: MUST CHECK EMAIL.

Most Powerful Robot Ever

Fri, 17 Sep 2010 21:11:18 PST

Drawn by Aaron Beaty. Detail from our epic doodle battle which is my twitter background.

A Vacuum-driven Vomit-like Account of Various Buasky Events During One Chicago Summer

Fri, 17 Sep 2010 07:35:50 PST

Dear Blog,

I’m sorry I hate you so much.

Truth is I’ve been caught up in a ménage à trois with that tart Twitter and yeah, Facebook. Man, she gets around, but she’s so easy. And she so quickly catches me up on all the gossip. You know how I love gossip.

You just don’t make too much sense any more. Who hangs out here? This place is a wasteland, I swear. We get a random straggler, looking for a lousy cup of coffee or a hit off the bottle. Then off they go, barely even looking at all the art on the wall.

Well, while I’m here, let me pin up a few random scraps from the broiling daily activity of the last three months.

Aaron and I went to a Lynda Barry (OMG I <3 LYNDA BARRY!) writing workshop in Milwaukie, Wisconsin, during which I drew this genius:

For many of her exercises, I was drawing a complete blank. I only managed to eke out this gem:

I am sitting in the passenger seat of my mom’s ’55 Pontiac Star Chief Catalina Coupe driving at 55mph along a sunny country road. We have many cars behind us waiting to pass. I’m embarrassed from this because I am 13 years old and everything is horrifying no matter how trivial.

We’re coming up to the hill with the passing lane. I can see clearcut on our right. A road leading I don’t know where. I’ve driven past this road thousands of times but I don’t know what’s down there.

We have to build up speed for the hill. When it’s raining the vacuum-driven wipers always slow down on the hill. Or do they speed up as the engine revs up? I forget.

Cars pass us like mad, even with the dangerous curve coming up. This also embarrasses me. As soon as we level off, everybody slows back down and my mom let’s loose a terrible string of curses at humanity.

Trubble Club met to draw at a Clark’s:

.. where we drew much hawtness, including:

The ever effervescent Tres came to visit on my birthday:

On Subbing starchild Dave Roche moved to Chicago, and joined us to paint pirates for Aaron’s Walker Bean window display for Quimby’s:

I went on yet another yearly camping trip with my dad, brother and nephew in the Oregon desert. Ignoring the fact that I procured the shits from something, I’m guessing some nuclear food created with ingredients I can’t fathom, I had a great time. However, I didn’t catch one fish.

Aaron (not Aaron Beaty pictured above, Aaron Renier) and I assembled the final Walker Bean window for Quimby’s:

.. then we did a reading of the first 50 pages of the book with various characters voiced by Rachel Niffenegger, Corinne Mucha, Dave, Aaron and myself for a group of 826CHI kids:

Finally, the release party at Quimby’s!

Then, blog, I went on to draw comics like mad for Papercutter and Piecemeal 2. But I’ll talk about that later, because it actually has a focused subject, unlike this vomit-like variance of fooferaw.

Ok, bye!

Exploring the Great Outdoors From a Distance

Tue, 29 Jun 2010 20:52:39 PST

I just express mailed my prints for what’s sure to be a fantastic show opening at The Pony Club on July 1st in Portland:

Lilli Carré did the delicious flyer.

As usual, I managed to work myself into a last-minute panic in order to actually DRAW this piece. I half-heartedly blame the trip to Milwaukee, WI with Aaron to attend a Lynda Barry workshop, but I knew we were going to that at least a week ahead of time. I’m starting to think that I’m only functional under the stress of the last few seconds — BLUE WIRE OR RED WIRE?! — because I’ve been operating this way for a looong time. And my best work always happens when I’m terrified I’m going to completely fuck up and miss a deadline, and/or turn in something so godawful embarrassing I’d rather have done nothing at all.

I am doing three prints from moments in the upcoming Piecemeal 2. This is the first of the three, and it just happened to fit well with “The Great Outdoors” theme of this print show. I’ve destroyed two birds!

I so miss rope swinging into a brisk lake that it’s almost painful for me to look at this damn print.

I finally decided to bite the bullet and buy a handful of better screen printing tools. Unfortunately, I didn’t go the extra mile with getting a decent fine mesh screen, instead buying the best the art store had to offer. If you look closely, it almost looks like an old 8-bit printout. Luckily this worked out well with this particular drawing, and although some details got lost in the translation, the parts that made it through beefed up and look just fine. For the other two prints, I’m going to track down a real screen printing supply shop for better screens.

Here are a few close-ups to see the 8-bit like chunking:

And here you can see that despite buying a few decent tools this time around, I’m still in need of a proper workspace:

Evacuate!

Fri, 21 May 2010 03:16:57 PST

Here is a new comic for a project put together by Robyn Chapman, the theme being, well, pooping. My body was more adamant about this subject than I care to remember for a two-year span, offering many episodes such as this gem.

Strangely enough, this was (almost) my last asscapade (sorry, couldn’t resist), and I’ve felt pretty much A-OK ever since. Taking the job in LA allowed me to get out of debt for the first time in my adult life. (Thank you credit card companies for preying on college campuses!) I’m pretty sure my body was revolting from stress, primarily money stress, but drinking copious amounts of alcohol and having a terrible sleep schedule didn’t help.