Hey Everybody! Here's my self po. Very Tomish I know, but what can you do?
Long live the Rhino,
<3 p="">Barry!

Non- literal self portrait assignment.

3 Views of Croatan

The dates are in the top left corner. Spooky feelings, knowing we're in there - somehow still in there, as if space were time, and in the place called 2007, Conor and Donald are eating bagels and watching the mist on the lake, while a strange car, unbeknownst to them, drives quietly down the road taking pictures. 

Your Mouth Is a Cup

Your lap is a plate,
Your mouth is a cup,
Your finger's a spoon,
I'm not making this up.

Your wrist is a napkin,
Your butt is a chair,
Your skin is a jacket,
Your hat is your hair.

Your shoulder's a pad,
Your knee is a pew,
Your neck is a necklace,
Your feet are your shoes.

Your elbow's an armrest,
Your tooth is a blade,
Your finger's a pencil,
Your hand is a spade.

Your chest is a nightstand,
Your back is a bed,
Your blood is a blanket,
Your pillow's a head.

Your mouth is a speaker,
Your ear is a mic,
Your molar's a blender,
Your leg is a bike.


Your eye is a camera,
Your mind is a room
Your bones are a coffin
A body - a tomb.

Sculpification

Watching Muppet Family Christmas (with original 1987 ads), drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows, making charts of christmas presents and busting out the Sculpey. Joyous Giftmas to All!

Happy Halloween

Couldn't find a big enough pumpkin so I drew one. Happy Halloween y'all.

Halloween comic from cog

Sorry for the low quality image. It was a photograph. But I'm pumped I finally posted a comic!

Sunday Comic!

Another in the vein of our Moby Dick variations.

Barry's Jonathan Of Lantern

Update: 10/22 

John from Candle

Salesman #1

Thinking about trying to make a few comics about a traveling salesman. Maybe something like Guy Noir. Here is a potential start for the strip.

Mint Dick Tom's Version

Moby Graperson

Balloon

Well it isn't much of an entry but, in an effort to keep up the posts, I am sharing this paper craft balloon kit I made assembled this sunday. Not quite sure what to do with this thing. I am thinking of dropping it off of something high. Well see.

Dirge for Croatan

With help from Guy Clark, Terry Allen, and Tolkien

Some S.O.B. stole my house

Out on Lake Cherokee

If I hadn't loved that house so much

It wouldn't mean nothin to me

But you son of a **** I'll tell you what

I will not be deterred

I'll find you out and track you down

On that you have my word

Chorus

The Road goes ever onward

Under cloud and under            star

but feet that wandering have gone

Turn back, to home afar

I don't predict the world will end a

And I don't presume it won't

And I don't pretend to give a damn 

If it do or if it don't

Now I bet you got a raise this year

but that don't make it right

That view does not belong to you

That fireplace at night

Chorus

Now brother death and father time 

Are almost loaded up

And they are headed for the borderline

In a stolen pick-up truck

For old acquaintance not forgot

For old house home no more

I wont' forgive and I can't forget

The year of 1 and 4

Mother's Day Card

I also included a cup of coffee in this picture, as I would have served you one if I was at the house. Instead, I drank it. Hope it has been a good Mother's Day so far Mom.

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!

Advice to Paterfamilia on A Sunday

Advice to Paterfamilia on A Sunday

Come blaggards and feebles
Those prone to the groan
For there's wise to get up
contained in this pome

There's a stick for a dog
and some carrots for hares
and for slackin two-leggers
some la-z-boy chairs

I've got pickles and peanuts
Pretzels and Pop
Be ye walkin by,
please make for to stop

I'm prepared to be preaching
pre-prone to down-talk
Yes the pensivest salesman
is settin up shop

The first of me lessons
Is quit tappin yer leg
Quit jugglin nothin
and spoilin' the bed

The second is this:
forget of the first
and if tappin's yer like
then be quenchin' yer thirst

The third is a fourth
of the fifth out of six
put cream in yer coffee
tornade with a stick

The fourth is a paper
wrapped yellow and sag,
Read up with the Coff
Read down with a Bag.

The fifth is four times
that which was the third
post coffee-with-cream
Ye must watch-up the birds

Having watched all the birds
Of the seed takes their picks
dropping binocs in shelves
must scrabble to six

The sixth is a calling
some call a disease
The sixth is a work
For the Brothers to please

The Sixth is slapped up
tape stapley nailed
To a board in a ship
in a mind that's set sail

The Sixth is a something
like flowers or cheese
not strict-hard for working
but loose-goosed to please

The Sixth is a scribbly
dance of a tale
a treacle stream dribble
sent by the night mail

The Sixth is announced
from a wide and soft throne
It starts with a sentence
and ends with a groan

The sixth is a story
From a paw filled with might
for young cubs to wonder
about in the night.

Sunday Comic #90 (Tom)

Let the Stories Burst Forth

There was once a young boy who listened and watched.
He lived in a full household, a busy town, a vibrant world.
The world was full of sights and sounds and the boy drank them in like a parched man gulping water from a cold spring.
The boy seldom spoke, and so words and images began to fill his head.
The boy kept the pictures and words inside, until he grew to be an average sized man, with a larger than average head.
And soon the man began to have children of his own.
And when it was time for bed, the children demanded he tell them stories.
So when it was dark and the children were sleepy and the man was tired, he let some of the words and pictures out.
They did not come out as they went in, for over time the sights and sounds interacted and they came back together in unpredictable ways.
Sometimes made up heroes served real-life queens, and made up animals dodged the real life threats that filled the river below.
And sometimes the animals were made of cardboard, and they raged through grassy plains.
Familiar faces and names, like Oprah and Ovaltine, took on unfamiliar behavior.
Even the people and moments of his past took on new lives that were larger than life.
Ships sailed to uncharted waters.
Ancient ceremonies conferred tribal honors.
And icy lakes became the backdrop for great deeds.
For many years, the stories flowed – sometimes repeating again and again – and yet different each time.
And only when all the children were fully grown and had homes of their own, did the stories stop.

And at night, the man was silent.

And the house was silent.

And again he listened and watched.

And again his head filled to bursting – sometimes to aching.

And sometimes, just before he fell asleep, he could feel their pressure, fighting to be free.
As though the beings that inhabited this imaginary world were no longer content to remain captive.
As with all prisoners, once they had tasted freedom, they demanded release.
And the man yearned to emancipate them.
He longed to let the stories burst forth, unbridled by any confinement.
And someday they will.

Sunlit Days

this morning as I sat at home
i felt the world was mine alone
each meadow crafted for my sight
for my eyes only, each moonlight

as turtles walk along the creek
i realize it's me they seek
wild deer and turkey take a chance
to come nearby for just one glance

the daffodils are blooming now
and winds have warmed that will allow
each blade of grass to rise to me
and leaves reach down from every tree

and when I wish for warmer days
then brighter will the sunlight blaze
and winter, though it freezes me
is here because it pleases me

i sing my song for all the land
for I alone each day command
and happiness to all conveys
as I imagine sunlit days

Sunday Poem

Resume

What pays the bills
needs to be filled
but worthless,
can't contain a thing?

What carries weight
what proves we're great
but frail and mute
is a point, moot?

What draws the blood
and, sucking, floods
our lives with endless
vain pursuit?

What is this crap?
A 2D trap?
All life inside
a one page map?

As pants the heart
for cooling streams
So seethes the soul
at endless reams

of bullet points
and years and dreams
Condensed to seem
and not to mean.

Weird Picture I Drew (Not a Sunday Comic)

Sunday Comic #89 (Tom)

And new dudes...

Sunday Comic #88 (Tom)

Now non bug stuff. Weird stuff...

Sunday Comic #88 (Tom)

Sunday Comic #87 (Tom)

I'm back.

Slightly Less Late Sunday Comic #86

Back up to date.

Late Sunday Comic #85

Late Sunday Comic #84

Hand Poem

Rescued from the margins of a notebook. My professor said, " Observe the book closed-" in class, and that struck me as poetic. This poem resulted:

Observe the hand closed:
pointer like an eye shut,
fingers like puppies in a bed,
thumb like a hand over the eyes,
nails like faces trying to hide,
knuckles an arched back,
pinky, the cold one, nuzzling in,
never gets a better spot.

Sunday Comic

I was just eating my 4:50 am Finals Macaroni and Cheese and thinking: "I'm making all this art, but no time for the Rhino? PSH! I should just make some little real fast slapped together comic thing tomorrow." But right then I realized that I was in a uniquely weird psychological territory that needed to get harnessed, and quick, before I got well rested and lost a special insight. That insight was the ability to not filter unformed ideas from exiting the brainspace. It did not emanate from toes - more like the central facial region. Right behind the eyes or cheeks. I'm hyping this too much. Here y'ar:

Sunday Comic #83 (Tom)

Late, but still.

Mediocre Movie Experience

Sunday Comic

Working on a comic about watching trains with Brian. I'm planning to redraw it on a bigger scale and print it on the new machine. 

Musing

Comic by Dad

Sunday Comic #82 (Tom)

More Chess Boy. I also went back and fixed last week's based on Cog's constructive crit.

Mama's Tea Time + Other Sketch

I made this comic in my notebook before the Telephone Jerry theme was out. I drew it in the book and was going to crop out some sketches on the opposite page. I thought I would leave them because that was the comic's original habitat. Also, the other half could just as much be on the Rhino.

Papa cloggs is back, in shame

Well here you have it. The maximum you should get from this is to chuckle at the warpy little pictures/ handwriting. yep.

Sunday Comic

Walk Around

Sunday Comic #81 (Tom)

Croatan Furniture Set: Part I

Here is the first installment in my effort to create furniture for the cabin/studio/shed in Appomattox. The beginning of the set was a chair, to be built shortly. The chair was inspired by our dining chairs at Croatan. Pictured is a desk and a small side table.

Sunday Comic #80?

These are some sketches for a new comic I'm planning out. Just trying to figure out a style. I think cutout/ collage is gonna be the way to go. 

P.S. The leaves in the feet of the cutout sketch were cut out of a real leaf!

Sunday Comic #80 (Tom)

Sunday Comic