No matter where They go now, They are Home.

Lots of things go into houses.  A story is like a house.  Some houses have many stories.  And some stories never leave me alone, no matter how lazy I am at writing or no matter how many other things I end up drawing, I always come back to "the house in my head" and never leave.  As I've been going through all my artwork in storage, looking for pieces and characters to revive, I'm drawn to the following two illustrations.

Spring 1991:  I photocopied antique photographs of Old Milwaukee houses and collaged them with scribbly drawings.  It was an image originally done for a forgotten class assignment.  Whenever I see an old house, I automatically start thinking about the stories of the people who must've lived there -- I don't think this way whenever I see new houses because new places feel empty, generic, or unfinished to me.  They don't make houses like they used to, you know.  And so many, SO many are gone.  But what if an ancient house (not just an antique one) still exists somewhere tucked out in the woods on top of an equally ancient place (not just some old Indian burial ground).  I'm not just talking about a haunted house, either.  In fact, at the time I did the following collage, I wasn't exactly sure what was happening...  I let the images speak to me.  My hand in drawing scribbles on them was a way for me to "feel" out what was going on.  I was attempting to draw out, not draw in, what I was seeing...

I never quite forget anything I've written or drawn.  I say "never quite" because there are times when I do forget, but not all the way.  There's always something in the paper to remind me of where I've been that hints at where I am going.  I've got stories in the back of my mind all the time.  What I love most is to create characters.  Usually characters are created before I even actually finish a story.  Sometimes it's the places I create that come before the characters.  I'll get inspired by someplace I've visited or dreamt about and the story just starts to "people" itself.  I think this is why I spend so much time alone...  I need solitude to let these little worlds in me develop.

As I go through my old work, I begin to really see what genre I belong to.  I really believe my place in fiction is "horror fantasy" or Occult Horror -- what is the difference?  Does it really matter?  What I want to do is create something I wish was being produced by someone else, but isn't.  I would like to see more gothic horror, a return to the old world class and style, I want to see more monsters in capes, I want a bit of film noir back in scary movies...

This is Alexandre and Dorathea.

Winter 1992:  These were the very first drawings, in paint, that I've ever done of them.  I used to do a lot of painting on fabric.  I'd tye dye the canvas first, then select inks to paint with, then paint over the ink with big dollops of arcylic color.  With this painted character sketch, I also chose to use flakes of actual silver (sort of like gold flake, but silver, get it?) and crush them into the wet fabric to creat this sort of glitter-saturated look.  Click on the above image to see it full size.  The following two images are close ups of each character.  This should show you the amount of detail I really put in each face.

Alexandre is no longer a brunette, but every drawing I've done of him reveals to me that he has a long European nose, a flash of pale eyes hidden under shadow, and in every picture he stares out as if really looking deeply into those who see him.  In reality he just looks through other people, never really seeing them.  The white inked "rays" of light coming out of his right eye indicate that he has some kind of hidden insight into things but he doesn't always know how to "tap" into this consciously.  He's a moody bastard, too.  His lover, an older, more sophsicated man with a wife and children, has broken up with him to return to his family.  This makes Alexandre take a step back.  Will he ever have true love or will he just be a boy toy forever?  Not that he's a slut.  He's got a lot of heart, but he's so full of the "dark side" right now, he may just refuse to save himself from it.

Summer 2008:  This is how Alexandre has evolved over a 17 year period.  I'm now closer to knowing who he is now.  He's pale, almost an albino, his lips are passionate and full... but he's still not quite "there" yet.

Then there's Dorathea.  Alexandre's spontaneous, spunky, affectionate and very fashion-conscious straight girlfriend.  He knows she's totally in love with him and there's nothing he can do about it.  She may self destruct all over him, or she may find a kind of strange happiness in darkness like he has... 

Dorathea's hair is always changing.  When worn long, it's a mass of curls and confusion.  Usually she cuts it short or irons it completely straight.  In this painting, she is a cloud of shadow.  Her eyes are deep set, lips in a constant pout, and she paints her face gothic white.  This sometimes gives her the appearance of a clown.  Her skin is actually much more almond tan, revealing her Middle Eastern ethnicity.  She's not that confident, but puts on an air of authority. 

Dorathea is emerging nicely as well.  I don't know her as well as Alexandre, but she's getting "there" and I just keep re-drawing her until she looks completely right.

I'm happy to introduce you to my characters.  I'll update you as the story develops more.