Why Don't We Do It In The Road?

Beatlemania. True story.

Accordion Book

Actually this is a double accordion. An accordion book is one sheet of paper, encased by two book board covers, folded like an accordion between. For this little experimental book, I took two folded accordions, slit each page vertically to its midpoint, and then scissored them together to create this diamond effect. The book can be opened from both sides, and has the additional awesome factor of an inside space, kind of hidden pages. The covers wrap around and clasp at either end to make a nice package.


Sorry updates have been kind of slow and all book-related recently. I usually try to mix up the mediums that I write about for interest's sake. Right now I'm working on a backlog of photos I took last semester, since the school year ended in May. I've been pretty busy with summer fun and trying to find a real job while scraping by on part-time or one-off gigs. I still have a comic in the works, as well as a couple things I haven't scanned or photographed yet (including - yes - more books!) And just this weekend another project of mine came into fruition. I had a series of works about Llama Man installed at the IASD Dream Art Exhibition, including Llama Man himself (the costume posed on a freestanding armature I created for the exhibit). My film, For My Psychopomp, was installed as a loop on an old TV I got at a thrift store. I got a lot of really great feedback from a community I was incredibly happy to show my artwork to. People were really interested in the dream and how I've worked with it over the years, as well as in awe of Llama Man's towering and terrifying figure. Sunday night was the reception, and I won first prize in the Nancy Richter Brzeski Dream Art Awards! Now I have some money to buy more film to make more creepy movies. Yes! I am so excited and honored to have been recieved in such a wonderful way, and win such a great prize. Thanks IASD!

For My Psychopomp

There is sound in this clip, and it's kind of quiet; I suggest you turn up the volume on your computer and also click the 'high quality' (HQ) button on the viewer.



Here it is, my final film for the semester and what I've been working on like a demon for the past three months. It's screening tonight for the first time. The word psychopomp is one that my mother brought to my knowledge, during a discussion of my film. I was telling her how I wanted to make a movie not only about my recurring childhood nightmare (you know, llama man) but how my relationship with that narrative and the character who inhabits it has changed. "He's turned into something like a muse," I told her, "he's like a conductor between my unconscious, which is where I think a lot of my creativity comes from, and my waking life, bringing me ideas."

Psychopomp literally means 'soul conductor' and refers to those people or things that act as escorts to the afterlife. In Jungian terminology, it means the mediator between conscious and unconscious minds. I dedicated this film to Llama Man, who I've decided is my personal psychopomp in the Jungian sense, and the dedication doubles as a title. (This is also why he shows up in the first pages of Night City, as a welcome committee.)

For My Psychopomp was shot on 16mm and Super 8 Tri-X film stock. All the stuff outside is Super 8.

Night City (Part 3)

A composite dream narrative, compiled from various nighttime adventures, both conscious and unconscious. We had the option to either write a ten page paper or create a six page comic in response to a graphic novel, and I picked one of my all time favorites, Daniel Clowes' Like a Velvet Glove Cast in Iron. There was no penciling in the creation of this comic. Everything drawn straight up with a pen, yeah.

part 1
part 2

Night City (Part 2)

part 1
part 3

Night City (Part 1)

part 2
part 3

Two Part Philosopher

Dream comic from a dream I had while in San Francisco, sick with fever. Colored pencils!

Screaming Teeth

From my comics sketchbook, this is a drawing of a nightmare I had in second grade. In the dream, I'm on the schoolbus, in front of my school. The driver is saying from her seat, "come on, get off the bus, we're here" but there is a giant pair of dentures in my way, uttering a bloodcurdling, piercing, unending shriek, and I can't get past it.

Llama Man: Sketchbook

Starting around the age of four or five and continuing until around twelve, my most prominent recurring nightmare involved a tall, tall man in a black llama suit.


He had a human face and hands, but wore a full body suit and had hooves instead of feet. He was always grinning, usually hunched over, and took pleasure in hiding children on hooks in the basement of a lifesize dollhouse. His human features were long, drawn, and really creepy.


The most common narrative of my Llama Man dream began with me pulling up in a minivan to a large, abandoned field in the middle of the forest. Across the field we can see our new home. The car holds myself and an unknown family.


We can see the house from across the clearing. There is a large cutaway where the living room is, and there is also a figure lurking around the treeline.


These are all sketches from my nightmare notebook, which I started over a year ago specifically for the purpose of reviving Llama Man under my own terms, through my artwork. Since then I have created myriad drawings and quite a few sculptural objects featuring or about him. I also made a life size costume for myself, mask, gloves, suit, stilts and all. Here are some more pages from my book, and a bit of the costume.