The Pact of Seasons

A couple of week ago I ventured out to Hobby Lobby to replenish my art supplies. Before I got to the art section, however, I found that there exists a section with little figures. Cowboys, Indians, Pirates, Soldiers, Horses, Dinosaurs, etc. I was very impressed.

I saw that they had a few knights. One of the knights had a stag head mounted to the top of his helmet. This, being pretty intense, caught my eye. I then noticed that there were moose figures. My brain put the two together and then my hands literally put them together. It had to be done. It was too perfect. So then I found a white kingly knight and matched him up with a regal-looking white polar bear.

I purchased these four items, not knowing that I would eventually be drawing them. I did, however, think up a story on the way home:

The Pact of Seasons
It widely believed that the oldest struggle on Earth is Good vs. Evil. But, though it may be hard to believe, there exists an even older contest.

As long as our Sun has burned, but long (longggg) before orbits and cycles were understood and science embraced, the Earth has been contested by the spirits of Summer and Winter. In the early years, the planet's surface was in constant turmoil because of the quest for dominance. Summer wished to irradiate warmth throughout even the deepest caverns, while Winter wished even the deepest oceans to be frozen.

Keep in mind, there was no life yet on earth to be affected. The Earth seemingly just existed for the sport of the two opposing spirits.

Somewhere along the line, however, life was created. Maybe it was because of an especially spectacular bout between the rivals, or the force of some magic instilling life into the ground. Plants sprung up amongst the chaos. Soon afterwards very, very small creatures were peeking their heads out from cracks in the surface.

Winter and Summer took notice of their audience. Once aware that they had inadvertently created life as a byproduct of their struggle, they now felt wholly responsible. A pact was made to dispel any chance that sparring would end the life which they had created.

It was agreed that the annual cycle of the sun would be split in twain, with each party reigning for half of a year. Of course, because of their furiously competitive natures, the exchange date of the power would always be in flux. Impatience and greed usually added or took away from the deal a little. Some years would be exceptionally heated, while others would be predominantly frigid. But on average, the two spirits kept to the deal, and life flourished.

Throughout the different ages of Earth and Dinosaur and Man, Summer and Winter have grown fond of taking the form of whatever life-form is most dominant at the time. In these guises, they will hold contests to match strengths on a tangible battlefield. For example, in what is known as the Jurassic age, they would often assume the role of Tyrannosauruses and chomp it out. Much later, they would assume the position of knights on a chivalrous battlefield. There have also been dogfights in the skies, naval battles in the sea, and laser-blastings via rockets in space.

Of course, one can feel the struggle continuing, be it through a sweaty forehead or the chattering of teeth! Tell-tale signs of the never-ending rivalry.


Here are some pictures that Merlin snapped during the Middle Ages. He was using magical future camera technology.

Illustration Friday - Craving

The Babeknight
During times of chivalry and damsels-in-distress, clashing swords and splintered lances, there quested a tiny hero.

The common-folk (and common-babies) referred to him as the "Babeknight," probably because he was both a baby and a knight.

In times that toddlers terrorized territories, the Babeknight was often called upon to help rid the land of stinky/cranky evil.

In contrast to his cutesy appearance, the Babeknight was actually quite ruthless in his quest for the Sippy Grail. He longed to find it and drink milk from it. He pursued clues for it tirelessly, with except for five naps a day. Though he craved the Grail, his quest never made him power-hungry. Instead, he remained only normally-hungry, on a diet of formula and mashed carrots.

Wielding his rattle-mace, the Babeknight felled many foes (many of them older and larger than himself.) He once fooled King Myron of the Shady Vale (whom was rumored to know the whereabouts of a map to the Grail) by pretending to need a burping. Once the King picked him up and began patting, our valorous knight dealt a swift baby-chop to the King's neck, incapacitating him. The ensuing search did not yield the map; instead, the Babeknight found an ample supply of blankees and hand-sewn rabbit dolls. Oh, happy day! He then had to be changed by a nearby nursemaid.

Oh, and he rode a feline steed. Oh, and the Babeknight is in no way affiliated with the Children's Crusade. No, sir.

Tales of the Babeknight resounded far and wide until the times led the world West. Exploration and over-sea voyages opened new routes and new doors for strange and wondrous tales. Out of these, a new mythical figure arose. With the claiming of new lands in the name of Spain, the Conquistadorable One made his name. But that is a tale for another time.

Pigs Are Texting!

Hello, everyone! Just wanted to let you guys know that I posted a new Booksketch just now. It was inspired by George Orwell's classic novel Animal Farm. I added a little modern touch to it, which you might have expected from the title.

Here's the link: Pigs Are Texting! Pigs Are Texting!

If you like the site/illustration, please feel free to leave a comment. I luvs them.

Thanks!

Illustration Friday - Adapt

Where are the cowboys of yesteryear?

With the West thoroughly explored, one can no longer "go" there, young man. Cowboys have been replaced by shepherd dogs, which were replaced by robot shepherd dogs, which were quickly replaced by super-smart whip-wielding babies.

The true cowboy spirit, however, shall never die out. Hardcore enthusiasts kept the tradition alive by adapting to worldly changes. What's left to explore? Well, the deep sea, of course. Cowscuba riders and beacheros boldly navigated uncharted waters on genetically altered giant-sea-horses (it was deemed most appropriate). Returning from a long day underwater, our adventurers would retire to their coral corrals.

That only whet the appetite of the adapting cowboys, however. The largest "West" still lay ahead. Or, rather, above. Actually, in every direction: SPACE.

They were dubbed Cowbonauts, since "Astroboy" was already taken and legally secured. Since the universe is expanding, their explorations and tales of zero-G derring-do were infinite. Though they embraced many new technologies, cowbonauts were often seen sporting the attire of traditional cowboys of times past. These throwbacks help remind the cowbonauts of their heritage and calling.


Cowbonaut Chantey: "Saddle-ites In Space"
Though-oh-we may have traded colts,
For these buckets full of bolts,
That eat not, want not, drink not- Nay!
But sure still pack a jolt!

:gulp:

And-oh-you may note this as well,
We've ditched that cattle smell,
Which suits us fine (Oh, we don't mind!),
Let's hear that cowboy yell!

:YEEEE-HAW!:

:gulp:

Illustration Friday - Cracked

The Race Across The Rotundra

There's a little-known race that features an even littler-known group of giants referred to as "Der Biggins". In exchange for large quantities of sustenance (mass needs to amass mass to stay massive), Der Biggins agree to participate in the Rotundra Race.

Using bobsleds as skates, Der Biggins are pushed along by four men (two per "skate"). There must be some cooperation between all parties, since guiding any Biggin over a frozen lake would result in, well, mucho crackage. Everyone, including Der Biggins, must be on the lookout for any obstacles in their collective paths.

The race is about thirty miles, or until appetites flare up.

Paper, Spock, Scissors

Here's an illustration of Mr. Spock spocking some up-and-coming Vulcan students. "Spocking" is the Vulcan equivalent of "owning." FYI. Since Paper/Rock/Scissors is a game that can't really be won by logic, Spock ensures victory by playing his might trump card: the Vulcan salute.

The pupils, not willing to say that paper nor rock nor scissors are more powerful than their cultural symbol of prosperity, have no choice but to admit defeat. They may have lost this round, but they have gained a valuable lesson of thinking outside-the-box.

I'm actually going to include the black/white version. I love how it looks sans color; you can see how the illustration started off. This one was all pen (brush and Micron) and then colored in Photoshop.

Illustration Friday - Contagious

"Beware of the Zimebie! By far the most deadly of zombie archetypes, the miming undead are a silent threat to the living. They do not emit longing moans for 'brains,' instead simply pantomime their craving for a cranial gray-matter platter.

Be on the lookout for any shambling individuals, especially those wearing berets, striped shirts, black stretch pants or face paint. If you or any of your party were to run out of ammunition or weaponry, quick thinking will allow you to corral the zimebie in an invisible holding pen, or block his path with a barricade of invisible rubble.

May the Force be with you."

See that twist I threw in at the end there? I just introduced zimebies into the Star Wars Expanded Universe! Woo!

The Underground Man - Booksketch

Here's a thumbnail of my latest booksketch, inspired by Mick Jackson's The Underground Man. If you aren't familiar with my Booksketch site, please check it out. It is a site that is open for anyone to join and submit illustrations based on literature he or she has read.

I don't get to post there as often as I do on Draw, Burt Draw!, so it is nice to have friends and supporters contributing. I appreciate all the comments and fans that have been checking out my illustrations. Thanks, everyone. You are all great! :D

Here's a link to the full illustration: No Boats About it - Booksketch

Illustration Friday - Parade

As for how I came up with this idea, your guess is as good as mine. Just sit back and enjoy the ride!

Thought Process: "Parade?" I'll draw a fat guy with a chain of rollerbladers in tow!

Seriously, that's it. And I'm not ashamed at all. Well maybe a little. The drawing took about two hours and the photoshop work afterwards about another hour.

I went back to using my brush pen for this entry. I'm still a fan of it, of course. Micron pens for the smaller details. The interesting composition (if you don't think it sucks, of course) is a result of the confines of the moleskine in which it is drawn, haha.

My moleskine is going to be full of strange + interesting little things, isn't it?

Illustration Friday - Hierarchy

Even comic characters can fall upon hard times.

Help a fellow out, won't you?

There's a joke/pun in there if you look for it. You may have to mispronounce something on purpose.

This entry's thought process: My first idea was to draw an old king and a line of unprincely princes behind him, each brandishing some devious sort of weapon. Such as poison, dagger, tennis racket, etc. Each son would be intent on usurping the family member directly ahead of him (in the line to the throne).

But not long after that I decided I wasn't in the mood to draw backstabbers and this pun popped into my head and demanded that it be drawn. And besides, I thought it'd be fun to draw Archie.