I come bearing comps. comps, and startling news. You told us you wanted to see comps of all our illustrations so far, so here they are: in no particular order, and sorry they took so long to make their way into the wonderful world wide web…
this is for the five illustration. the actual illustration only had five pills (hence the ok w/alts) in the corner…this illustration and I had some issues, because it was the first time I’d done anything digitally…and let me just tell you that me and that background did not get along well at all.
This is the final comp for the world record illustration- world’s largest rubber band ball. I made it larger in the actual illustration 🙂 below is one of the unapproved…? denied? denied comps for this illustration:
that blob in the lower left is supposed to be the international space station…but who really knows what the space station looks like unless the whole thing is in the picture, surrounded by other space-y things? nobody, that’s who, so it just looks like a blob. that’s why the world won out instead. because a world looks like a world no matter how you spin it… (sheepish grin) moving on…
heyo! society of illustrators comp!…this one was saved by the halftone I put over it, not gonna lie… whilst I was doing this illustration, I realized the importance of beating the system. the most important thing in illustration is to not suck, and in order for me, specifically to not suck, I have to work on a moderately smallish scale. I tried to do this illustration at 200% of actual size…and I would just like to say that it would have horrified even my kindergarten teacher. I then proceeded to do my next illustration at a more manageable size, and scan it into my computer at 500%. mission. accomplished. now, of course, I’ve been doing mostly digital stuff, but that’s only because I haven’t completely resolved the paper texture issue. don’t worry. I’m not the kind of girl to give up on something like that.
did you say ‘Abe Lincoln?’…No! I said ‘Hey, Blinkin!’…if you haven’t seen Robin Hood, Men in Tights, go watch it now. set free your mouse, turn off your computer, get to the nearest movie rental location, and get that movie. it will change your life.
The illustration that wasn’t… this one never actually made it past the comp stage- it was one of my ideas for the five illustration, but I chose the pills instead. All I have to say about this is you should have seen the pictures my roommate took of me as reference photos for this comp….but what they say is true: I knit so I don’t kill people. knit fast, die warm.
the life and death of chauvinism. my reasons for wanting to do this illustration are twofold: first, I have wanted to do a pin up girl for, probably about five years. I love pin up girls. I especially love pin up art, which is different than amateur artist/pilots using housepaint to decorate the sides of their flying metal death traps with phrases like ‘bombshell bonnie’, and the images to match. pin up art is really beautiful to me. I don’t know why. anyhow, that’s reason number one, and reason number two is that I feel like chauvinism may not actually be dead. ask any boy who looks at ‘death’ if he wasn’t thinking about naked women flinging their bras across the room. eh? eh?. Told you so.
THIS TURNED OUT AMAZINGLY. the actual illustration, that is. until I viciously stabbed it multiple times with text, layout, and a nasty, stupid duotone. but let me explain: the illustration itsself was done in a beautiful royal purple, on some of the most wonderful Arches cover paper (printmakers always get the good stuff… if ever there was a paper that fell into the category of being sexy, it would be this paper…)..and it handled the water and paint so wonderfully…and then the layout happened. the text, the titles, the names of the tribes…and every single character typed upon my beautiful masterpiece was another flaming arrow, shot right through the heart of artists everywhere. every kern was a rock, falling from the sky on a painter, and every single time I messed with the duotoned madness that turned out to be my illustration, some child somewhere was deprived of a box of crayons. you did this to me.
comp! just kidding! hehe. these are some letters I drew in an effort to come up with a solution to the theatre poster problem. which finally got solved. Like A Boss. only took a month and a half…maybe two… oh well. I love typography. I love the curves of the letters, and the graph paper, and the way those letters make up words, and everything about it. that is one thing I love about vis comm. three other things, specifically, are package design (although I suck royally at it…and also booklike devices are included in the word ‘package’), book covers, and all to do with books (I may work at a publishing company or something…) and illustrations (although, like package design, I still kind of royally suck at it. although I have improved since the beginning of the semester) so there you go. there are things to like about all this.
comp one and comp two for the classical music album cover. rusty, you were right…comp one was boring. I’m not sure if I’ll ever figure out that dumb tailpiece though. its just an awkward thing in an awkward place altogether.
last one! this illustration has not been completed yet, so the only things I have to say are about the comp itself. the knife was a last minute addition, but I feel like it adds to the whole scene…and the A on his chest will look a bit more bloody when I’m through mutilating him. its a book cover- scarlet letter. same time we do book covers in digital graphics, too, no less. I’m doing Sherlock Holmes for that. it’s a conspiracy.
now, on to something completely different!
my fibers final is due on thursday. thursday is tomorrow, because today is wednesday. even if it has only been wednesday for a half hour or so. my fibers final is a bit far from finished. I was worried that it wasn’t going to get done at all, except I ended up trading sewing machines with Emma, and now I have a machine with a zig zag stitch. the romanticism of my 1930s singer 222 featherweight may be wearing a little thin. no dropping feed dogs, no zig zag stitch, the inability to behave after long periods of stress? are they really made up for by the sleek gold enamel designs on a shiny black base? by the whir of the exposed belt as it moves the drive shaft from the motor? from the fact that this machine was made during or shortly after the great depression, and was sold to a woman who was no doubt planning to use it to make her children’s clothes, blankets and decor for her home, and mend suits for her husband? or even that I can pick it up with my bum hand because it is, after all, called a featherweight? I don’t know…the last few days have taught me that life without zig zag is chaos indeed. she won’t be my primary sewing machine, but I still do love her so. even if she did throw me into a panic on the first night…all is forgiven.
I’m taking printmaking next semester. Instead of fibers. chaos indeed.