I helped steer a kid away from buying a Rapidograph technical pen last night while I was at the art store. It felt good to have possibly saved someone from the hours of toil and the ridiculousness that is screaming at a pen that refuses to dispense its payload. I prefer to spend my time drawing and not cleaning and screaming.
I recommended disposable Micron pens (they were out of my standard .005 black) and dip/quill type pens but ended it by saying he should try out all pens, Rapidographs included, and find what works best for his style. I couldn't tell if his dad was giving me the stink eye for interrupting (because I knew more than he AND the sales associate) but I felt good about it.
Here are some older drawings of mine that I've been looking at recently to remind myself of where I've been and where I'm going. I take a lot of different turns in my work and sometimes I can't remember where I was trying to go with my imagery. If I'm not mistaken I'm still trying to catch up with imagery that I started to generate 4 years ago. There's only so much time before the next generation of imagery comes along for me and tempts me with the confounding shamanistic illusion that I have finally figured it all out. Once that happens it's almost impossible for me to remember my older work and what I had hoped to accomplish. As I was taught in school, it's all about the journey; I just want to have a few postcards to send back home.
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Goatsnake forever
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