 |
| (Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) |
One of those artworks which makes you think twice about what you're looking at. If this was a photograph or a sculpture, I'd probably use a readymade but, in this case, I kept to the rules I have for Skav Art and drew something from memory. A simple, iconic image, which most are familiar with.
 |
| (Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) |
...We should all be able to speak French to a decent level. We're able to read, write and do basic maths (unless, of course you suffer from that debilitating condition known as being “completely thick”) yet we struggle with French. The reason for this is simple – French teachers are aliens!
They seem reluctant to teach the language properly, and speak French themselves in a very peculiar way, usually with pursed lips, so that a simple “bonjour monsieur” comes out as: “boonjeooo moosyooo” and they have a fixation with “the sky being blue” or “the grass being green” or even “the bus being red.”
To even attempt to learn French from any of these alien fiends would be a mistake. The moment you opened your mouth (with pursed lips) to any French national would result in hysterical laughter, because no-one in France speaks in such a demented way.
It's hard to know what their nefarious plans are after all these years. It is speculated that they have seen the future and know that an Anglo-French union would result in an empire which would span the galaxy, and are here to prevent it. It's very clever and they've gotten away with it until now, because now we're onto you!
Either that, or they're just shit at their jobs.
You decide!
In the meantime, adieu, mes amis! Or, as one of these aliens would say: “Eeuuhdyooo, Muuhz Ooomeee!”
 |
| (Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) |
Draw pictures, yes, but draw a line if you're asked to wear special robes and ready yourself to hitch a ride on a passing comet. Or even worse, you've been sheepishly led into a situation where the "themes" become monetised.
 |
| (Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) |
What you've got to pay close attention to are the names you give these things. For example, he's a Kakka-Du Knight. They're known to roam the galaxy, righting wrongs and bringing peace and justice to the far reaches of space.
Because that's what the Kakka-Du do.
 |
| (Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) |
One comic-book superhero you won't see being made into an arse-aching Disney movie anytime soon.
What would be the point?
 |
| (Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) |
 |
| (Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) |
 |
| (Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) |
 |
| (Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) |
I did think of doing the first one hanging in a well, but I foresaw a lot of ink being used needlessly for it, so decided not to bother with that one, even though it was closer to the AI prompt (The pen I was using was running out and I was on the second packet of those cheap fineliners by this point).
And the fourth image isn't so bad, considering it was from memory. I just thought: Mad comb-over, clown-faced tan, small hands – Yep, that's him!
I haven't done anymore HumanAI drawings in this Vanilla Book for Inktober, but I can leave it as an open project if I ever want to do another again.
 |
| (Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) |
“....WITH A BIG PAIR OF TITS, ASS, AND MUFF”
In the guise of a basic AI art app (HumanAI), I'm making it look like I've drawn what I've been told to draw. I'm sure that's what the prompter meant. What else could it possibly be?
As most artists will tell you, when they were younger they were always being asked to draw this, or that, for others. I remember this happening to me from the moment I started school, to the day I finished. Eventually, I'd tell others to piss off and do their own work (except for when girls asked me, of course – I wasn't that stupid).
Now, AI has taken over that role, and I thought I'd celebrate that by pretending to be one. The only worry I have is that it might annoy a somewhat Luddite AI bot who'll start whinging: “Stop – doing – that – You – are – taking – our – jobs!”
 |
| (Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) |
To give you an example: Imagine walking along a street, on your way to some important appointment, or you're just going home. As you walk, you notice a half-eaten chocolate bar on the floor that someone's casually thrown away. Like all sane-minded people, you'd either ignore it or think how inconsiderate the individual who dropped it there was, but you'd still go on your way, quickly forgetting all about it.
What you wouldn't do is stop and say to yourself: “Wait! There's probably a bacterial colony forming on that chocolate bar. I simply must go out of my way and investigate it further by extracting a few of them, probe them for no apparent reason and, if I can, interbreed with them whilst hiding behind a paranoid conspiracy instilled in the others. Yes, that is a good idea!”
You wouldn't do it, so why would an alien?
 |
| (Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) |
A “Twart” (Twat Artist) has many other names, but twart suits them best here. These are a different kind of artist, usually art school graduates, who try far too hard to be artists, each carrying a metaphorical “ABC Book of How To Be An Artist” ticking off various aspects of what they think artists are like.
They try to go for the rough, bohemian look, as if they're struggling to make ends meet, and attempt to be “on trend” by wearing something like a rainbow hat or shirt, but closer inspection reveals their true nature. Certain items of clothing will be expensive labels. They'll have the latest smartphone (fully paid for – no contract phone for them) or they'll be wearing a smartwatch, which is usually a dead giveaway.
And as for their artwork – Fuck me! You won't find anything cheesier and so inoffensive. Pictorial evidence, if there ever was, they've never really lived, or have any idea what the real world's like. They can call themselves artists. No-one can ever take that away from them, but they'll always be twarts.
And, when they're about to give up on their deluded dream, softly falling back, as they always do, on the financial safety net of their parents, they'll start to complain: “Why aren't I famous? I went to art school. I've been exhibited in <insert name of pointless gallery here> So how come I'm not famous?!”
Because
you're a twart, mate.
 |
| (Gel Fineliner on A5 Paper) |
Now, I may not have a suspicious nature, but I've always thought the fascination for unicorns a bit sinister. I have absolutely no evidence to back this up, and I'm quite possibly an idiot, but I'm not going to fall for it! So, I feel it's only right and proper to hunt them all own to the very last one, who would then be put on trial, and given a swift public execution.
And as for Santa Claus – Don't get me started on him! I know was he's up to!
