I made this mini-comic last week for my Indie Comics class. I found a zine called "Elvis Goes to Parkes" about a bunch of non-Elvis fans dressing up for an Elvis convention. The zine is just a bunch of low-res bitmapped photos of Elvis impersonators. I really liked the range of characters and effort. It was an assignment to respond to whatever zine we picked out, but after I finished this (in its physical form it's a little twelve page booklet) I liked it so much I decided to keep working on it. I'll be printing copies in my offset printing class, and probably add a layer of inkwash tone, a la Alison Bechdel's newer stuff. (Many artists do this but I've been thinking a lot about Alison Bechdel recently, after re-reading Fun Home and talking to my mom about how she was a fan in the eighties. Alison also talked to my class yesterday over Skype, which was pretty cool and also weird, having a giant pixelated head on the wall, and she's coming to Chicago next weekend to be at Women and Children First's 30th anniversary party.) Anyway, I like this little comic because to me it's all about this kind of postmortem obsession and devotion, sad and funny and strange.
More pages from that old sketchbook. That is a cutout from a Doritos bag in the middle. The brown coffee stain occurred later but I think it really helps with the overall what-is-this-shit aesthetic.
From an old sketchbook, circa 2007. I think I was in my Media Practices class (the prerequisite to all film and video classes). I remember my friend Nick leaning over my shoulder, chuckling and getting glared at by the teacher.
I made this on Saturday morning in under an hour. My free (stolen) internet has disappeared so this happened instead.
I don't know why Apple doesn't use these kinds of videos in their ads for Photobooth and iMovie and Garage Band. That's all I used, in conjunction with the camera and microphone built into my MacBook.
I apologize, as always, for the flaky updates. School just started again so I've been making new work like crazy and that will be scanned/photographed/transferred from film to video soon and you will be able to look at it. The other day, under a fifteen minute deadline, I went to the computer lab to scan some stuff and as soon as I thought I was finished and ready to put the files on my external hard drive I figured out that the scanning program had some weird setting activated to keep it from saving any of the files. I don't know why any program would come with an option to negate its sole purpose, but the point is I have to do it again because by the time I realized this my fifteen minutes were up.
On a completely separate and useless note I've been thinking a lot about centaurs* recently, ever since watching Role Models. There's a scene where Paul Rudd and Christopher Mintz-Plasse are playing 'LAIRE', a LARPing game, in the park, and this guy with an awesome centaur costume rolls up and stabs Paul Rudd with a foam sword. The scene is really funny because of the inanity of the event and the apathetic manner of the man in the elaborate costume, but it was extra funny for me because I was reminded of centaurs.
I've been dwelling recently on mythical beasts in general. Werewolves are my favorite. This train of thought has been partially inspired by the popular resurgence of vampires, and my own observations of the ebb and flow of zombie enthusia. I'm not too fond of vampires, though I have great respect for them and some stories about them, particularly Anne Rice's work** and Herzog's Nosferatu. Many people speak about their attraction to vampires. Though I can see the sexual appeal of vampires (infinite suaveness, androgyny), I find many of these people unappealing. But thinking about those same people and their possible attraction to centaurs really skeeves me out.
Centaurs are the ultimate in masculine mythical creatures. They're like the Matthew Barney of ancient beasts. I will confess to not knowing too much about them, but I will stand firm behind my first impression of centaurs as domineering cock-monsters who steal unattractive, socially awkward women into their burly arms and gallop off somewhere to have their way with them, violently. The sexual desire to be dominated is not an unusual one, and neither is desire of an equestrian nature. But the compound effect of centaur fetishization is one so disillusioned, submissive, and ultimately corny that I get nauseous thinking about it.
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I was never a horse girl†, and always hated horse girls when I met them (I made a few grudging exceptions for close friends). I didn't and don't understand the connection many teenage girls feel to horses, and I always thought the underlying pre-pubescent sexual charge there was gross.
I'm not really making a point and I don't have much more to say, but I would like to bring up the Swayzaur. R.I.P. Patrick.
* This link is pretty awesome ** I hadn't actually read Interview with the Vampire until a couple months ago when I found a copy in a drawer at my favorite coffee shop. I started reading it instead of doing my homework and didn't put it down for four hours. Now I keep it hidden in the same drawer and go back to read it once every few weeks, hidden among my Bristol boards. † A horse bit me when I was a toddler. I wouldn't have liked them anyway if it hadn't, though. They're really hard to draw, not that I would ever want to draw one. Ugh. Also, it was really hard to find a link to put here that wasn't pornography, so you're welcome.
Here's the third plate I made in my etching class, and the only abstract one. This is the best print of it. I made a couple runs of this print with different color inks and papers, and this one was my favorite. I filled the plate with black ink, wiped more than necessary off, and filled the rest with a sepia-ish ink. That's why the darker, deeper lines are black and the rest of the print is lighter.
I followed my first etching with another along similar lines. Instead of an arm umbrella, here we see a kite with claws, which is on its way to attack the little boy who's looking for it. I think this images is much more successful than its predecessor. The composition is considered and loops your eye around nicely, and the figures stand out against the plain background much clearer than the girl and her umbrella did.
Back in second semester, freshman year (oh, spring 2007! How I miss thee!) I took an etching class. I really liked etching but I wasn't very good at making it a top priority, so I didn't get as much etching done as I would have liked. I did, however, complete four nice pictures, the first of which you see here.
Etching is an arduous and lengthy process of coating zinc or copper plates in tar, scratching out the picture you want, dipping the plate in acid for a very specific number of seconds, wiping off the tar leaving an etched drawing, coating that scratched up plate with ink, wiping the ink off the surface of the plate while leaving the grooves full, and then running that plate along with a soaking wet piece of paper through a giant felt press. This process is repeated over and over and over, with multiple tar coats and acid baths, until you get the desired result.
The other way to mess with your etchings is play with the ink and the paper and how you apply them.
This last one I like the best, since the background fades out more (that was accomplished through a process involving spraypaint and acid, totally punk rock). While I'm not satisfied with this plate on the whole, I still really like the idea of an arm umbrella.
I will be going on vacation in the physical world and also the internet world starting today, and will not be back to my normal life until the end of August. Until then, feel free to peruse the archives and ponder what I may post next or visit another artist and their wonderful site, like Gillian, Garrett, Jesse, Ben, Ryan, Suzette, Ian, or Alyssa.
This one's called the Chain Stitch, not to be confused with the Chain Stitch that you use to embroider. The more signatures the better when it comes to this artist's book, because then the stiching on the open spine becomes more apparent. I wish I had a better picture to show you guys.
This is what the open book, between two signatures, looks like:
Were you to open the book within a signature it would look the same as any old book, with the stitching running vertically down the middle. This book is filled with blank pages, as well as glassine sheets (thin transparent paper for archival purposes) and found pages from another old book, which you can see above. The spine has a nice loose but strong feel to it, and is very flexible (obviously).
This is another roll of Super 8 I shot on my camping trip in March. This area of southern Illinois is called the 'Garden of the Gods' for the strange rock formations.
Making exceptions for holidays and exceptional laziness, I update this space twice a week with sketches, finished pieces, and works in progress. I accept and appreciate any and all feedback.
Allwork is by me, unless otherwise noted, which means all work is copyright me. Please ask if you'd like to issue it towards your own nefarious ends.
Here Are Some Facts
Lyra Hill
Chicago, IL
I'm really friendly. I have a fake tooth, but you wouldn't know it, and I breath really loudly when I sleep. I'm good at math. I ride bikes. I have really big eyes, and, like anything, if you look at them too closely they will probably gross you out. I am a senior at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. I like puns.
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