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Archive for the ‘catharsis’ Category

Okay. Last week I went on some tangent. The last two weeks of 2018 felt like someone not only stunk up the bathroom without ventilation, but forgot to flush.

It wasn’t a completely bad year. Personally, one of the highlights of 2018 was all the concerts I attended. I remember back in August 2018. One particular weekend had concerts back to back. First it was Culture Club on Saturday, then Slayer on Sunday. Talk about polar opposites. After the Slayer concert had ended, sitting inside a car at the Jones Beach parking lot waiting to go home. I looked up at the sky. There was the moon in full view, shining very bright. The person I was with said “that was meant for you.” So it a sense, it wasn’t a bad summer at all. It was the seasons in-between that stunk. Talk about seasons in the abyss.

There were other highlights, and many, many lessons to be learned during the course of 2018. I realized I ranted pretty hard on one of my last blog posts. The good news is, new year, new beginnings.

Speaking of which, here’s some ‘toilet humor’ for you. Our dear friend Psycho Bunny has decided to flush the old year out. Introducing the Psycho Bunny sketch of the week, for January 7th, 2019.

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Psycho Bunny flushes the old year away. Based on the comic written and drawn by Michele Witchipoo, on WitchesBrewPress. Jan. 2019.

New year social media links to follow:

Facebook: pages for Psycho Bunny and for Michele Witchipoo – WitchesBrewPress.

 Twitter: One account for me, and one for Psycho Bunny.

Tumblr: World Ov Witchipoo

Instagram: there’s WitchipooArt.

 Get yourself some cool stuff on RedBubble, featuring my designs.

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Back again with another sketch from my forthcoming webcomic. It’s been completed, but somehow I postpone uploading it. Now that winter’s here, I should post it very soon.

Meanwhile, we’re in a new year. Which means fresh starts.

Hey. The year 2018 wasn’t all bad. The summer seemed to be the best part of last year. Music and concerts was 2018’s saving grace. Overall it was a year of highs and lows. If a person shows his or her hand, it’s time to wave them buh-bye.

Once they say they’ll never to talk to you again, it’s like the trash took itself out.

Here’s Squeaky Squeakums helping the demon take such trash out.

squeakydemontrash2018jan2019web

Squeaky Squeakums and her demon buddy help take last year’s trash out. Based on the upcoming webcomic written and drawn by Michele Witchipoo. Jan. 2019.

Keep on checking back for news about the webcomic.

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Beginning the new year of 2018 with a Psycho Bunny sketch of the week. However. Allow me to be slightly candid.

It just seems as almost everyone couldn’t wait for 2018 to be over. Basically 2018 was a year of disappointments. It wasn’t all bad – there was good times during the year. I think going to all those concerts, especially during the summer was among some of the high points. Did loads of new artwork, and landed some good commissions. On the personal front, that’s when things went sour. Five people from different periods of my life died during the course of 2018. Out of the five, two were formerly close friends, while one was from the present. Attending the latter’s funeral just reminded me of my own mother’s passing in 2015. There was a lot of betrayal. My arm became flexible as I had to take a few knives out of my back. Then there was the discovery that I was being used.

Not pulling the victim card, however. It is what it is. Perhaps that guy who I had met on the Metro North back in October was correct. When he told me that the secret to life “…is not giving a fuck.” If you look at his drunken statement from a Buddhist point of view, it just means not being attached to anything. It makes sense.

2018 stunk to the very end. Right before new year’s eve, some jerk off had the nerve to ask me over the phone if I had “art connections.” Oh. Is that the reason for the conversation? How convenient. My response: “If I had any art connections, I certainly wouldn’t be sharing them with you.”

If you were in NYC, did you go to Times Square to watch the ball drop? I didn’t. No self respecting resident of New York City puts themselves through that. People who live in NYC do not foolishly freeze in the street. We have much better options. We have clubs, we have bars, we have parties, we have friends, or at least friends of friends that will let us crash those parties. Better yet, real New Yorkers will gladly stay at home watching new year eve television coverage while some lame mainstream pop singer lip-syncs some auto tuned song. Because we pay enough money on the rent damnit! So we’re gonna stay under the bed sheets and get our money’s worth! If a native New Yorker does go to Times Square, it’s this. It would be at some party on the 23rd floor with the perfect window view laughing at the tourists below. We’re going to munch on the free buffet while the open bar has top shelf liquor, thank you very much. So the fact is, only silly tourists will stand in Times Square in the cold rain while they pee in their pants. If you were one of these silly tourists, I hope you catch the flu.

Okay. Let’s say you get some cabin fever and decide to go out after all. To bring in 2019, I went to a Goth party in Bushwick. We were having a good time at first. The music was good. Slowly the annoying hipsters crept in. Two such drunks came up from behind us on the dance floor. How could we forget them, for they blew into a Viking ox horn near our ears. You know these millennials would not survive one second in Ragnarok. No, I don’t mean Marvel’s version of Thor.

Anyway, these douchey millennials show up. One guy took off his coat. Once he did that, we could smell the B.O. He stood on the dance floor with his unkempt hair and beard. Looking more like an early ’90s Grunge reject with his flannel shirt as he drank his beer. Is it suddenly edgy not to shower? At this point, the body odor could not be ignored. He wasn’t homeless, nor was he a chaos punk squatter. He was some hipster schmuck that probably lived in some gentrified apartment formerly rented to some working class family. Maybe even in an area that used to be heavily ethnic. Then he had the nerve to show up in a sub-cultural party, particularly a party from one of my favorite sub cultures, smelling like a pig trough. Dude had no reason not to take a bath.

Hey. At least my last meal of 2018 was a nice sushi dinner.

If you come this far, thanks for reading my rants.

Now here’s Psycho Bunny, since he’s recovered from his hangover…

PBHappyNewYear2019WEB

Psycho Bunny sketch of the week. Psycho Bunny celebrates the new year of 2019 with booze and bitterness. Based on the comic written and drawn by Michele Witchipoo, on WitchesBrewPress. Jan. 2019.

 

Your new year resolutions is to follow these social media links!

Facebook: pages for Psycho Bunny and for Michele Witchipoo – WitchesBrewPress.

 Twitter: One account for me, and one for Psycho Bunny.

Tumblr: World Ov Witchipoo

Instagram: there’s WitchipooArt.

 Get yourself some cool stuff on RedBubble, featuring my designs.

 

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One of the good things about 2018 was the amount of concerts attended. I had the good fortune to get free tickets. Not sure how long this luck will go on, but every minute was thoroughly enjoyed. A friend took me to see Melvins, Mac Sabbath, Slayer, and Royal Thunder (with local Philadelphia band Heavy Temple opening). Won tickets to see Judas Priest and Deep Purple over at Jones Beach, then that burlesque tribute to Led Zeppelin a few weeks later. In between I saw Anvil, Clan of Xymox, Robert Plant, CAKE, and a few others.

While I was this close to catching Ministry live, instead I was given tickets to two concerts happening over at the St. George Theater. Not many people outside of Staten Island know about this outer borough venue.

First of all, when one lives in NYC, Staten Island is kinda-sorta considered the “forgotten borough.” Everyone talks about Manhattan, Brooklyn, The Bronx, and even Queens. Queens being the borough I live in. Staten Island however, hardly shows up on the radar.

Don’t count out Staten Island however. Within this overlooked borough contains some hidden gems. For starters, you can board the Staten Island ferry for free. Once boardedm one can purchase some cheap beer for the duration of the ride. Cash only, please. If you’re lucky, you might catch a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty.

Once the ferry hits St. George Terminal, the fun doesn’t end there. Only a few blocks away is the landmark venue which went into renovated starting in 2004. If you’re a fan of old architecture, particularly from the vaudeville circuit, then you will appreciate this establishment. The theater itself was designed in Spanish and Italian Baroque revival style interior. It’s original intention was to be a movie palace, popular during from 1900s to 1940s. The Art Deco and Egyptian revival styles was particularly majestic. Like the Drive-Ins, these movie palaces started to decline after the end of World War II, and the arrival of television. During the 1970s, a few of these movie palaces began to show porn to avoid closure.

 Luckily the St. George theater was spared from the wrecking ball. It’s currently under non profit status as it was reborn as a concert venue. It also has schedule of classic films to be shown on the big screen.

Having been curious about the St. George theater since Todd Rundgren played there, I finally had a chance to check it out on October 20th, 2018. It was to see a concert by ’80s Alternative legends The Psychedelic Furs. I already saw them during their height of their popularity sometime during the mid-80s. Figured seeing them again decades later in 2018 was a perfect excuse to visit the venue.

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Going to see the Psychedelic Furs reminded me of why I fell in love with music in the first place. In 2018 was the opportunity to catch many Metal concerts. 2018 was a Metal kind of year. However. My first love will always been anything Post-Punk, New Wave, ’80s Goth, classic Punk or ’80s Alternative. Seeing the Furs live was the reminder I needed. Accompanying me was my friend Kitty Hawke, a member of the NYC Goth band Night Gallery. She had also seen the Furs live back in the ’80s.

 

 

We had time to kill, so we checked out the local (female owned) comic book store Hypno-Tronic. Soon it was time to catch the gig. We were not disappointed. Our seats were floor orchestra – yes! Basically the Furs did all their greatest hits. Songs like “Pretty In Pink”, “Ghost In You”, “Heaven”, and “President’s Gas.” The encore was an awesome rendition of the song “India” from their first album.

Afterward the concert we walked around the venue checking out the interior. There were a few Halloween decorations up for display.

 

 

Exactly two months after the Psychedelic Furs was a chance to see another concert at St. George. It was Southside Johnny and The Asbury Dukes, with David Johansen opening. Okay, straight up. I only went for two reasons. One, to see David Johansen live. Second, to see the St. George theater during the holiday season. Not that I have anything against Southside Johnny. I was just never into that Bruce Springsteen/South Jersey sound. Not my thing.

Arrived at the St. George theater just in time as David Johansen began his set. For those who don’t know, David Johansen was the singer of the proto-Punk/Glam band The New York Dolls. Later on, he reinvented himself as Buster Pointdexter with the pop hit “Hot Hot Hot.” Back in 2006 to 2011, the NY Dolls reunited thanks to Morrissey. Never had a chance to see any of the Dolls’ reunion gigs. Had to settle for the documentary about Arthur Kane as seen on Amazon Prime. So the St. George show was the next best thing.

 

 

For the record, he only did one NY Dolls song. Lonely Planet Boy. Which was okay, it was to be expected. David did a great cover of that Erma Franklin song “Piece of My Heart” but we all know Janis Joplin’s version. Other tunes from the set list included Frenchette and Mannish Boy, a Muddy Waters cover.

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The majority of the audience was there to see Southside Johnny and The Asbury Dukes. I wasn’t feeling this crowd at all. It was the most suburban environment I’d been in a long time. Bad news. There was a guy sitting a few seats away from me sporting a vintage plaid suit, but after David Johansen was done, he hightailed it. As for myself, I wore a black sweater, a loose light colored blush velvet top, black pants and Doc Martin boots. Looking respectable. Meanwhile, I had grandma sitting behind me, giving me silent stink-eye thanks to my blue hair. She glared at me, looking at me as if to say “what are YOU doing here!?!” You think after years of post-feminism, ladies would stop at being unnecessarily catty. I’m ignoring her, minding my own business. Then Negative Nancy tapped my shoulder in very nasty manner. She demanded that my cell be turned away from her. Geez. What did I do to her? Even though I wasn’t even using the smartphone. You know, like what everyone else normally does at shows nowadays, which is tape the entire concert instead of actually watching. She was using any excuse to be a hater. Then she gossiped loudly with her friend. Welcome to the Trump era.

The way the last three months of 2018 was going, this was no surprise.

The lady’s behavior did throw me off a bit with her attitude. All year, and this was the only truly bad experience with my 2018 concerts.

It’s okay. In-between bands, I pretended to to rest my head on my cellphone case, as I silently but slowly turned my cell around so the cover could face her. It was a Rip n Dip design. The one with the cat giving you the middle finger. You’re welcome.

I had a much better time at the Psychedelic Furs gig. Knew I should’ve worn my Junji Ito shirt. Because everyone should have at least one offensive shirt in their wardrobe. For occasions like I just described. For the record, I own a few.

Despite grandma having her Geritol moment, the set by Southside Johnny was decent. They’re fine musicians. Just not my cup of tea. The audience loved them though. Their encore was their biggest hit “Having A Party.”

After the show was over, again I walked around taking photos of the venue. One of the two reasons why I showed up.

 

 

Heading towards back to Manhattan, I met three ladies dressed like holiday fairies. It was perfect for the winter solstice. They were also much, much nicer than Geritol lady. Next time I shall hang out with them.

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The U.S. midterm elections are upon us. This has been the most closely watched midterms in years.

Of course, Psycho Bunny has one thing in mind. Priorities you know. Introducing the Psycho Bunny sketch of the week for Nov. 5th, 2018.

PsychoBunnyElectionDayNov2018WEB

Psycho Bunny encourages Americans to vote. For his party – the beer party. Based on the comic book written and drawn by Michele Witchipoo. On WitchesBrewPress. Nov. 2018.

Earlier tonight, before creating this blog post. Taking the subway back to Queens. Two people campaigning  for the NY governor candidate representing the Libertarian party get on the train. It was one male, one female. The female was holding a sign, yelling to vote Libertarian. The guy tried to hand me a flyer, but I refused. Instead, I just sighed in exasperation.

It’s reached that point where you can’t stand who is in the White House, but you’re also fed up with all political parties. There’s always the Rent Is Too Damn High Party.

Don’t worry, I’ll still be voting tomorrow. Just no more write-in votes for Mr. Bill. Promise. It reminds me of an old song by Alice Cooper.

After voting – check out my social media

Facebook: pages for Psycho Bunny and for Michele Witchipoo – WitchesBrewPress.

 Twitter: One account for me, and one for Psycho Bunny.

Tumblr: World Ov Witchipoo

Instagram: there’s WitchipooArt.

 Get yourself some cool stuff on RedBubble, featuring my designs.

 

 

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As of this post, today is the last day of Inktober 2018. If I do another Inktober sketch, it’ll be posted tomorrow. Technically, I did draw everyday in the month of October. Not everything was Inktober related. It’s okay. As they say, there’s always next year.

Forgot about Inktober 2018 prompt # 12 – whale. So I included the first two that popped into my mind. Fudgie The Whale, that Carvel ice cream cake, and a narwhal.

I had a friend who loved narwhals. Even did a narwhal art postcard for her. We fell out when I didn’t want to take part of a collaboration. It was a silly joke band called The Conscientious Gasbags. Outsider music with twisted lyrics. The lyrics were good. I had some of the equipment. Imagine if Big Black meets Shonen Knife. That’s what we were aiming for. Last year scheduling was tight. I had just moved out of a ten year residence, completing school, working, and working on my art. Wasn’t even time to do my Psycho Bunny sketch of the week. I had no extra time to spare. Something had to give, and it was the band. So I informed her of my decision.

She didn’t take the news very well.

When I broke the news to her in a diplomatic manner, this is what she said:

“Don’t ever speak to me again. Do not contact me in any way, shape, or form.”

So seven years of friendship meant nothing to her. It hurt. On top of that, she even managed to turn another ‘friend’ against me. This was all because I didn’t want to do that project with her. So I went ahead, deleting anything on social media that I set up relating to the band. It was really extreme on her part, but if I was going to be treated like public enemy number one, so be it. It wasn’t the first time a former friend turned against me. It still hurt. It was also very unnecessary.

Six months later, I found out on Facebook she had died.

I didn’t gloat in her passing. Instead, the whole thing was just sad. I mourned silently. In her honor, I went to Sweet Jane’s. It’s a neighborhood bar that I had taken her to when she visited me in NYC. She loved that place. So as I was toasting to her life, I was with another good friend. My friend was comforting me, telling me that Julie’s spirit was here and Julie forgave me. Afterwards we proceeded to get a little too drunk. Oops.

Still have Julie’s book of poetry, the skull jewelry boxes she gave me, and assorted accessories. Most of all, I still have the memories. Will leave it at that.

With death comes forgiveness.

Geez. Didn’t mean to turn this Inktober entry into a candid post, but hey.

Anyway. Back to the Inktober sketch. Along with the grumpy narwhal is Fudgie The Whale. Fugdie is an iconic character from Carvel’s line of ice cream cakes. My mother, who also passed away in 2015, used to get me an annual ice cream cake for my birthday during my childhood. It was very late ’70s/early ’80s thing to do while growing up in the outer boroughs of NYC. The Beastie Boys’ debut single was a tune called Cookie Puss.

The sketch itself. Not one of my best. Kinda looks like a rush job, which is kinda sorta was. The story behind this goes as this. It’s the narwhal’s birthday. While other narwhals are happy, this one is a cantankerous sort of creature. Worse of all, this grumpy narwhal is miffed that his birthday cake happens to be Fudgie The Whale. Thus Inktober 2018 prompt 12, whale.

Intober12Oct2018WEB

Inktober 2018 prompt # 12: whale. Narwhal doesn’t like Fudgie The Whale. Drawn by Michele Witchipoo. Oct. 2018.

One or two more Inktober 2018 to follow.

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2018promptlist

Continuing from the previous blog post. Here’s my Inktober sketch nummer zwei. Prompt number two was ‘tranquil.’ After finishing the sketch, I’d say the mood is more reflective that tranquil.

Inktober2Oct2018WEB

Inktober 2018 sketch # 2. Prompt: tranquil. Drawn by Michele Witchipoo, Oct. 2018.

I like this Inktober sketch # 2 more than the previous one. Watch out for Inktober 2018 sketch number three.

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