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Posts Tagged ‘personal’

First of all, I want to apologize for the long hiatus. There was a series of events taking place that prevented me from regularly posting. Above all, dealing with a crooked landlord. Perhaps I’ll get into more detail later, but basically it comes down to this: gentrification sucks. In relation to that, there just seemed to be a series of events, one after the other. Oh, and that art collective I was a part of? Yeah, that’s no more either. In fact, I pulled the plug publicly on social media. Whether the other members want to carry on, it’s on them. Again, there might be more details revealed, if I chose to reveal them.

Anyway. Finally back to posting weekly. So for those who thought I was down for the count…here’s a big middle finger just for you.

Here’s some positive things. I created an Instagram account just for my art and illustrations. My personal account was put on private. It’s better that way. So follow WitchipooArt on Instagram. You can also click “like” on the two Facebook pages, Psycho Bunny Comix and WitchesBrewPress. My illustrations will be in two books by Feral House. The Prince and Mohammed Ali coloring books. Oh, and in the middle of what was happening, I did manage to do the Women In Comics comic con over in the Bronx. That took place in late March. Still working on the band though. Oh, and it would be great if you ordered any of my work from my website, which now needs a makeover. http://www.witchesbrewpress.com/

It’s now May 2017. Time to get back to business. I didn’t have a hangover straight for three months, but my character probably did. Since I wasn’t there to check up on him.

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Psycho Bunny sketch of the week for Monday, May 1st, 2017. Drawn by Michele Witchipoo. Based on the comic written and drawn by Michele Witchipoo. Available from the website http://www.witchesbrewpress.com/

You can ignore the ink spots. Just as I was about finished with this quick sketch – some ink got spilled. Posted this sketch anyway. Enjoy.

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Haven’t had a single second to post anything lately. Been going through many life transitions. Don’t worry, there’s plans to be back on here soon. I’m forming a “fake” band with my friend. It’ll be a two piece. Think of Shonen Knife meets They Might Be Giants meets Big Black. That’s our concept right now. Nothing in this band will make sense, nor does it have to. So stay tuned for details, like a band Facebook page, a website and a Soundcloud URL. We’re in the very beginning stages, so bare with us.

Last weekend I took part in the Women In Comics comic con over in the Bronx. It was a much needed break. There’s a comic book anthology I would like to start up, but again, that hasn’t been fleshed out yet. The band is coming up front and center. Finding myself looking at analog drum machines more than tending to other responsibilities. Priorities.

Speaking of comics, illustration and art. Going to sideline to a concept which always irked me. The artist’s statement. While I could understand statements themselves, there’s a part of me that wishes people have their own interpretations. Why wait for that the artist to explain? That’s probably the difference right there; the difference between the artist and the audience. One way to look at it.

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This diddy cost $14. Who said art was cheap? From Art On Paper during NY Art Week. Photo by Michele Witchipoo.

Recently also attended Art On Paper during NYC Art Week. Had a chance to go to Volta NY, but circumstances got in the way. That really irked me, but what could I do.

This dialogue from John Waters’ film Female Trouble best describes how I feel about the concept of “art” for the time being. Perhaps this should be used as my “artist’s statement.”

Dawn Davenport: [onstage] Thank you! I love you! Thank you! Thank you from the bottom of my black little heart! You came here for some excitement tonight and that’s just what you’re going to get! Take a good look at ME because I’m going to be on the front of every newspaper in this country tomorrow! You’re looking at crime personified AND DON’T YOU FORGET IT! I framed Leslie Bacon! I called the heroin hot line on Abby Hoffman! I bought the gun that Bremmer used to shoot Wallace! I had an affair with Juan Corona! I blew Richard Speck! And I’m so fuckin’ beautiful I can’t stand it myself! [She shoots her gun into the air] Now, everybody freeze! Who wants to be famous? Who wants to DIE for art?!

Audience member: I do! 

[She shoots him]

Will be back soon with the weekly sketches and whatnot.

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I was being nice with the title of this blog post.

For this blog, I’ve more or less stayed away from politics, except for the webcomic Shitty Mickey and occasional mentions of Occupy Wall Street. That was way back when, however. In late 2016, it’s a whole other matter. What 2017 will bring is very unnerving.

Getting to the point, I’m not happy with the current president-elect. I think he’s unfit for office, and a very dangerous man. The last thing you need to read is yet another blog offering up political opinions. So I’ll let the below image speak for itself.

WARNING: NOT SAFE FOR WORK (NSFW)

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I was aiming for tacky, lewd and orange. Oh, and the hashtag I got from Instagram. So thanks Instagram.

Who knows what 2017 will bring. Perhaps the electoral college will change their votes, or he will get impeached. Pence, his VP is actually worse, but Pence is also a career politician – also less likely to press that red nuclear button. Following Pence is Paul Ryan. Basically we’re doomed.

Never have I been so grateful to live in a blue state in all my life.

In general, 2016 has been a wretched year. For me personally, it’s been kind. On an international level, not so much. What’s worse is for all the nonsense news we hear such as Kayne West meeting up with Trump, Aleppo was being bombed. Hell, I even surprised myself by shedding a tear for Mohammad Alaa Jaleel. He’s better known as “The cat man of Aleppo.” If you don’t know who he is, you should. A fellow cat lover who risked his life to help care of all the stray and abandoned cats in war torn East Aleppo. He has everything to lose and nothing to gain by taking care of these animals, but he has something that’s becoming increasingly rare today – compassion. If anyone deserves the Noble Peace Prize, it’s him.

Enough of my soap box. I’ve made greeting cards out of that repulsive image that resembles Cheetos man. I’m NOT going to be selling these cards at every future event. If I decide to, i’ll be very selective as to where. Regardless, these will be available on demand. If you want this card, you can send $3.00 to PayPal. Some of the proceeds from this card will be donated to charity. Just haven’t decided which one as of yet. Maybe it’ll be a feminist organization, an LGBT group, or for Standing Rock, or towards the Cat Man of Aleppo. As long as it’s a reputable charity. We’ll see how many are actually sold. Regardless. Buy a card for someone you loathe.

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#trumpsucksballs greeting card. Dec. 2016.

For the past month, I’ve been passing this wall inside the Union Square subway station in NYC. Here’s some of the photos I’ve taken. I also added to this Post-It wall. Some of the Post-It notes are now being archived.

You can kinda tell which ones I did. And yeah…I did the testicles one too.

  2016 has been an overwhelming year. It’s enough to make anyone misanthropic. So before I go, I’ll leave you with this meme. Cause if you’re going to be misanthropic, make sure it’s everyone equally.

catmeme

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Happy Monday everyone.

Since a heatwave was upon us, I did the next best thing. Stayed home, sat in front of my AC, and finally worked on my website.

*Sigh* Long story about this website. I had an ex who promised me the world and then some. I already had html knowledge under my belt, but he insisted he would produce a much better page for me. Look, he claimed – I even got webspace for you. So I waited.

Of course, his promises went up in a cloud of pot smoke. As it turned out, the webspace he claimed he got for me turned out to be under his brother’s account. An account that someone trying to establish some kind of presence with cartoons and illustration should probably have some control in regards to content, etc. On top of that, he would get annoyed whenever I would remind him of his promises. Finally he relented and designed some kind of website – using Adobe Photoshop as a platform.

Adobe Photoshop as a way to design a website? As you can guess, it didn’t come out that good. The product wasn’t even finished. As it turned out, he jumped ship to design another website for someone else – with much better results. What a slap in the face…or at least a blackeye.

In my frustration, I went ahead, called the hosting company that his brother’s account was under. Had all my files switched over to a brand new account, this time under my name. I did this all on the phone to customer service. Meanwhile, as I was on the phone, my ex cruelty taunted me, laughing at my frustration. Due to this, I lost my temper while speaking to customer service. Score one for him. Then because of life, and the confusion of the mess the website had become, the pages sat there unfinished for years.

In the middle of all this unnecessary rubble, my original .com was brought out by another company. I was in between residences. Quite frankly, I was homeless during this point because me and ex had reached a boiling point. This is a completely different story but one day I will blog about these wretched experiences. Anyway, for the spring and summer of 2007, I was homeless for a while. Crashed on my parents’ couch a bit, but mostly while I had to take care of some issues, was couch surfing between two states. Not a good time, but the experience has made me a much stronger person. In the middle of all these ‘chaos’ my .com was brought out by a porn company. I found out about this incident just weeks before I was about to show my work at a NYC indie comic con. (A table I had reserved months before all this hit the fan.) The website I had listed was about to be printed in either a program listing, or some magazine. I had to call the person doing the listing and nipped it in the bud, just in the nick of time. Luckily the person doing the listing was completely understanding.

I guess one can chuckle about it now. At the time though, it was a time when nothing seemed to be going right for me. I was extremely vulnerable, and surrounded by vultures who I thought were my friends. Parasites who claimed to wanna help me, and in fairness, some did – with a price. (Yet I did meet some genuine people during this time, and those are the ones I kept in touch with after my crisis was subsiding.) In all though, what most of these people did was take advantage of me, and the situation I was in at the time. Vulnerability is a dangerous thing indeed.

Back to the website. I’ve had people look into the site for me. A few of these peeps commented something about how messy the site was. Yeah yeah, I know I would nod back. However, I had also become hesitate to let anyone touch it. Part of my reasoning was that if anything went wrong, I didn’t want to burn bridges or lose friendships. Another was my gut instinct was telling me otherwise. Always go with your instincts. They never fail – unless you go against those same instincts. Which is what I did when I hooked up with the ex. Had I followed my gut instinct, I would’ve never hooked up with him. Thus would’ve saved me three years of trauma. Two years being with him, and another for getting my life back together. Oh, and the expensive fallout afterwards.

Let’s put it this way: as soon as I was back in NYC, and my temp holiday gig was over…I was exhausted.

So let’s hit the fast forward button to June 29th, 2012. I had an odd dream. May sound kooky to some who’s reading this entry, that is, if you even made it this far. Not getting into details, but it was enough to light a fire under my ass. I sat down in front of my lovely air conditioner, praised the Goddess of The Air Conditioner, and banged out this site.

Finally I felt a sort of victory, taming this monster of a website. It’s not as professional as I would have liked it to be, but it’s still better than staring at a black page. Doing this website was also another nail in the coffin which contains my calamitous past. In a way, it was another subconsciousness step of taking my power back.

Hopefully by reading this blog post, the reader will get some sort of idea of where I’m coming from, and why I’ve developed into the person I’m currently am. A form of catharsis.

Perhaps this quote by writer James Baldwin could explain it better: “The victim who is able to articulate the situation of the victim has ceased to be a victim: she has become a threat.”

Here’s a link to my new ‘official’ website, as of July 2012. You can finally order copies of my self published comic through PayPal, and contact me for commissions. : www.witchesbrewpress.com. It also mirrors to www.witchesbrewpress.net.

My new ‘official’ website as of July 2012. WitchesBrewPress.com. Photo by Michele Witchipoo.

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I’ve had enough. Enough of Christmas, Yule, Solstice, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, whatever.

Where did all this bah humbug spirit come from? Eh, not going to get into it…but I will tell you what exactly is wrong with many who celebrate Christmas. No wait, how about the whole “holiday” season in general. Yeah. Equal opportunity animosity, that’s what I say.

Christmas never bothered me too much in recent years. In fact, there’s some good memories attached. Back in the end of 2007, I had arrived back in New York City. Needed money asap, so took any job I could get. To my own horror, I got hired at Macy’s. The flagship store over at 34th street. It wasn’t a glamorous position, mind you. I was selling Christmas decorations over at Holiday Lane. Anyone who personally knows me, I’m the last one to exhume any sort of blatant holiday cheer. Also humiliating, cause it was something already done back in 1992.

To my surprise, that temp gig wasn’t as bad as previously thought. Some of my co-workers were some of the kindest people I’ve ever met. As it turned out, a few of us shared spiritual beliefs that wasn’t exactly ‘Christian.’ One co-worker in particular, she would point out the paganism/pre-Christian symbolism in a few holiday ornaments. Gradually I realized working at Macy’s had been a much needed relief. After my summer of hell in the Midwest, it was nice to be treated with respect. I got hired again the year after that, doing temporary visual display at Macy’s. A step up from basic retail, but it wasn’t the same.

The next three years I found myself getting into the holiday spirit. Yet some cynical observations crept in.

One of my main beefs regards the Christmas tree concept. Never, ever understood the need to cut down real trees just to decorate it for a few weeks. Always thought that was such a waste. Apparently, there’s been some debate about real trees vs fake. Whatever. Honestly, I don’t care. I’m not anti-earth, but I’m not one of these anal-retentive environmentalists either. Besides, I like the obvious falseness of the plastic trees. I like the tacky non natural colors. Give me a blue or white tree any day. ‘Cause if you’re gonna go for tacky, you might as well go all the way. Hell, recently I saw an all black Xmas tree for sale. If that’s not brilliant, I don’t know what is.

More piques about this season is the overt materialism, the illusion of piety, and the bullshit notion being ‘nice’ this time of year. Nothing is more irritating than people thinking they should be good and generous only during Christmas. Meanwhile they’re complete ass wipes the other 364. This is the same attitude of those who attend church, temple, mosque, whatever, but still find it okay to be a jerk for the rest of the week. Cause another of my observations is that judgmental people are usually also the most hypocritical. Hypocrisy’s not my thing.

As a whole, I now find the concept of Christmas to be a complete sham.

All venting aside, I do appreciate whenever someone sends me sincere holiday cheer. It’s appreciated because it comes from the heart. That’s where the real magic comes from. Recently I was asked to come back for a real quickie interview for a local radio show. It was a year end review, and it was nice to be asked back (as opposed to being blacklisted). A friend from my psychology class took the time to get me a holiday present. That warmed my little black cynical heart. Oh, and recently I re-visited Macy’s Holiday Lane. Said hello to someone who still works in that section year after year. That person instantly recognized me, giving me the biggest hug. When this person found out I was about to purchase this black ornament with the words BAH HUMBUG in bold text, she took it out of my hand, and brought it for me. She wanted to offer it as as a gift.

Those three recent incidents represent the true meaning of the holiday spirit. It’s remembering those who’s been cool throughout the year, and remembering those who’ve been good to you, period. True holiday spirit is not about how well your house is lit, or how much you spend, or whatever you believe in. It’s the small sincere gestures that counts. It’s the memories that’s shaped you. It’s spending it with people that matter in your life. Even if you dread spending time with your dysfunctional family, afterwards you can spend time with folks that actually care. Take that with your spiked eggnog.

Merry fucking Christmas everybody.

Charlie Brown Tree With Bah Humbug Ornament. December 25th, 2010. Photo by Michele Witchipoo.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magi

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chronography_of_354

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