Kurtomitch's Mental Itches: 2011

Sunday, December 25, 2011

UPDATE: The SURREAL TAO of STUBBIE PENCIL

...a composite of the images so far.

Friday, December 23, 2011

The SURREAL TAO of STUBBIE PENCIL

The Grillmaster

Friday, December 16, 2011

UPDATE: The SURREAL TAO of STUBBIE PENCIL

The SURREAL TAO of STUBBIE PENCIL is now being assembled. Essays of the TAO are being added on a daily basis, and expectations are high to complete production by the end of the year.

Here are samples of a few completed spreads:

The Talking Point

The Knotted Stubbie

The Quantum Stubbie

The Listener

Sunday, December 4, 2011

New Additions to the World of Stubbie Pencil

I recently opened on-line a store for all things Kurtomitch on Zazzle.com! Now you can select the Stubbie Pencil profile that applies to you and get it on a mug-style or T-shirt of your choice! New imagery based on "The Flying Stubbie Pencil" makes for beautiful selections...


"The Flying Stubbie Pencil" © 2011 Kurt Mitchell

There's now the "Flock o' Stubbies" mug...

The "Yin-Yang Stubbie" mug...

The "Stubbie Disclaimer" mug...

All are available at www.Zazzle.com/Kurtomitchstuff

There are over fifty items available! You are cordially invited to check it out...

Friday, November 18, 2011

Beverly Art Center 35th Annual Art Competition

I have two paintings that are currently hanging in the gallery of The Beverly Art Center in Chicago, Illinois. The first two paintings below are the ones that are up... the third is a part of the series, but was not selected.

"Original Sin"; oil on canvas; 18" x 18"
© 2011 Kurt Mitchell

"Matters of the Heart"; oil on canvas; 18" x 18"
© 2011 Kurt Mitchell

"Land of the Flying Serpent"; oil on canvas; 18" x 24"
© 2011 Kurt Mitchell

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

UPDATE: The Surreal TAO of STUBBIE PENCIL

A few more images for the series!

The final image is almost finished, putting the current count at twenty-one... the same amount as in the first book. The written essays will follow. It looks like the project will be finished soon...

The Knotted Stubbie

The Charred Stubbie

Monday, October 31, 2011

UPDATE: The Surreal TAO of STUBBIE PENCIL

A few more images for the series!

The Rattler

The Salami

The Veggie

The Finger

Friday, October 21, 2011

The Surreal TAO of STUBBIE PENCIL

Work has begun on a second volume of "THE TAO of STUBBIE PENCIL", this one dealing with fantastic leaps of fancy into another strange realm of "pencil-ness". A few of the initial images are shown below...

The Core Believer

The Quantum Mechanic

The Holey One

Sunday, September 11, 2011

"Baby's Breath" - a short story

Baby's Breath

Kurt Mitchell

"Don't you touch my flowers... they were given to me... they're mine..."

That those words were spoken softly, pleadingly... that they weren't spoken in English... that they weren't heard above the bluster of wind that scoured the last few leaves from the gentle mound of naked black topsoil, made no difference to the groundskeeper. He saw some nice flowers in the stack, much too nice to go to waste.

"Baby's Breath!" He could always use Baby's Breath!

With thick-fingered hands, nails muddied black with an honest day's work, the groundskeeper knelt by a fresh, unmarked grave and worked through his fingerless gloves gleaning every stem of the tiny white flowers from the top of the discarded, lifeless pile. He stood just as the first flake of pure white snow settled on the back of his grimy hand to die as a tiny droplet of clear clean water. By the time he reached the tractor shed, the drop had evaporated with no one ever knowing it had even been there.

He leaned heavily against the rough wooden door to close it against the wind, and made his way to the potting bench on the far side of the room. He hefted the galvanized aluminum pail high and dropped it down with an authoritative 'thunk' before removing his outer coat and settling in to work on his product. The thick-fingered hands worked quickly... sorting, selecting, grouping, bundling, tying, and stacking. Within twenty minutes his bucket was filled again with assorted bouquets of almost fresh flowers. In one continuous motion he donned his coat, punched his timecard, and in that instant transformed from gravedigger at St. Casimir Polish Catholic Cemetery to "Flower Man"- entrepreneurial scourge of the traffic light at 111th and Pulaski! He never noticed the extra shadow that followed him as he exited the cemetery gate... the extra shadow that walked beside him to the intersection.

"Don't you sell my flowers... they were given to me... they're mine..."

The driver never bought anything at stoplights... you never knew who you were rolling down your window for, who'd spit on you if you didn't have change... but today he'd make an exception. The Mylar balloon with the goofy yellow duck bounced mindlessly against the ceiling of the car... it was going to make his son laugh. He loved saying those words for the past two months... "His son"! Now something for his wife... flowers! Yeah, flowers! Just this once he'd break his rule, besides... he'd seen that guy here everyday... every time he didn't make the light.

"Hey, man! Yeah... give me some flowers. Those ones there... with the Baby's Breath! Here's a ten, you can keep the change!"

"Don't you buy my flowers... they were given to me... they're mine..."

The driver made his purchase before the stoplight changed. He was elated, happy to be going home, happy to be a husband, happy to be a new father. He didn't realize he was also now a chauffeur for a shadow that had entered his car, which now held a bouquet, and peered at him in his rearview mirror from behind a bouncing balloon.

As the sun fell below the Beverly Ridge, the BMW made its way up the modest bungalow's driveway and was put away for the night. A husband brought his armload of gifts into a home warmed with amber light. A meal was had, with cake and ice cream, and a baby boy laughed at his silly yellow duck that bounced at his command all around his highchair... and a wife smiled and kissed her husband as he handed her a bouquet of mostly fresh flowers.

"Don't you give away my flowers... they were given to me... they're mine..."

And the shadow followed as the bouquet was trimmed and arranged in a vase, then placed in the center of the dining room table... except for a single rose and several sprigs of Baby's Breath that were placed in a crystal bud vase in the nursery. The parents slept peacefully all through the night; the baby never cried... and the shadow left the house.

"You took away my Baby's Breath... and now I've taken yours..."

Monday, August 22, 2011

SAMMICH!

The shelf life of mayonnaise may ensure its post-apocalyptic survival.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

From the sketchbook...

I'm roughing out a mock-up of my Children's book, "The Ballad of Tex Rex". Here are a few pages from the sketchbook...

Monday, August 8, 2011

From the sketchbook...

Recently at a woefully under-attended "Con", with an estimated gate of less than 250 attendees (read "customers"), I found myself with time on my hands...

... and the sequel!

Friday, July 22, 2011

OXBLUUD: Tor Oxbluud "Gladiator of the Year" card...

Not as valuable as his rookie card, Tor Oxbluud's "Gladiator of the Year" card still fetches high prices in the arena collectibles market.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

OXBLUUD: In the Shadow of the Arena

In the not too distant future, on a similar plane of existence, a society similar to that of ancient Rome, yet technically advanced, keeps its populace in check with bread and circuses. These "circuses" take the form of gladiatorial contests between genetically engineered combatants, the "Glads" - part human, part beast.

In order not to affect a mounting world food crisis, a measure of economy has been instituted to maintain the Glad population... a form of cannibalism in which the winners eat the losers. The only problem is that Glad meat is delicious and addictive... and a black market threatens to grow out of control.