Bella'n'Corly, Mascots and Memes

Click on us and we will grow on you.

I have two dogs, Bella and Corly. I know this comes as a complete surprise to everyone.

Bella, the “puggle” or pug-beagle mix, was here first. She's 4. She's a Twinkie with feet.

Corly the German Shepherd is her younger brother. He's 2. He's a horse, of course.

Each dog has a personality as unique as their weight (a difference of about 60 pounds).

Aren't they beautiful? Yes, yes they are.

Bella, a small dog who is dangerously close to being a dreaded “yip dog,” compensates for her size by being loud, fast and hard, extra crafty and deceptive. She’ll snuggle, and when you’re not looking she’ll steal your socks and hump your pillow. 

 

Corly, who is really too big for a house dog, is more low-keyed.  Playful and mild-mannered, but just dangerous enough to take seriously when he’s demanding attention. His favorite toy is his sister.

Bella’s the brains, Corly’s the brawn. Together they are the perfect pair.

Alien

I try to convey their personalities when I draw them, and when I fill in the blanks on their own Facebook and Twitter pages.  That’s right, their own.

All words by Bella'n'Corly

Dog owners know that they can’t predict what’s going to happen with their beloved pets on any given day. That’s part of the fun.

So, why give dogs a voice and spoil some of the intrigue?
Well ...
I thought a natural extension of my art and their commentaries would be creation of Bella’n’Corly memes. The four here (so far) are simple pen and ink renderings washed with watercolors. They’re meant to  illustrate expressions of happiness, curiosity, anger and indifference.

Four basic dog faces, I’d say.

Quadrophenia

An internet meme is a concept that spreads through the online community: videos, pictures,  a word or phrase. These may stay the same or may evolve over time, such as the four that I have created. Bella’n’Corly, then, seek to market – hopefully virally, by internet – all things Tom Wills Productions. They are the team mascots, if you will.

They will occasionally show up here, on Facebook and Twitter.  Hopefully you will laugh and smile, or pause and think, and maybe even cringe and wince every now and again. Hopefully they will remind you of my other (more serious) art, and you will check it out.

I’m lucky that I understand my dogs, and they understand me.  Through them, you might get a better understanding of us, and how we see the world.
Or, just giggle at the color cartoons of goofy canines. Arf bark yip.

Bella'n'Corly memes are Tom Wills Productions, 2012. For information contact hankbonesman@embarqmail.com or willstom01@gmail.com

No. 142: The 'WTF' Music

Tom Waits by Tom Wills, January 2012

 
'Black Wings' by Tom Waits. Is it a song about God or the Devil?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0i3cEdaM6y4

No one at my house likes Tom Waits 'cept me.

Once, maybe, his music was tolerated by those close to me when he placed piano, strings and horns in a bluesy haze behind his gravelly voice.  That'd be from 1973 ('Closing Time') to 1982 ('One From The Heart'). Even then, during my college days, my friends thought I was nuts for choosing Waits over Wang Chung.

CLICK on all photos to ENLARGE

Time passed.  Things got strange between 1983 ('Swordfishtrombones') and 1993 ('The Black Rider'). Production and sound went from grand and sweeping to minimal and even primitive.
Tom then took six years off to refine his loss of refinement. The results were 'The Mule Variations,' 'Blood Money,' 'Real Gone,'  'Bad as Me' (this year), and more.
His music is the soundtrack to both dreams and nightmares. No one else can make me laugh, cry,cringe and wince at the same moment.
Check 'em out: http://badasme.com/albums/

"He's not the kind of wheel you fall asleep at."

The voice now sounds like a chorus of blenders inside a cement mixer, and those instruments have been replaced by clangs, clanks, found instruments, guitar scratches, unidentifiable noises and layers of crud. You have to listen hard for the piano.
It's the 'WTF' Music at my house.
"WTF are you playing?" "WTF is that?" "WTF?"
And yet somehow they are beautiful.
Songs are here: http://badasme.com/songs/

"I don't need no make up
I got real scars
I got hair on my chest
I look good without a shirt."

ALICE

© 1992 Jamla Music / 2002 Anti, Inc.

It's dreamy weather we're on
You wave your crooked wand
Along an icy pond
With a frozen moon
A murder of silhouette crows I saw...
And the tears on my face
And the skates on the pond they spell Alice

I'll disappear in your name
But you must wait for me
Somewhere beneath the sea
There's the wreck of a ship
Your hair is like meadow grass
On the tide And the raindrops on my window
And the ice in my drink
Baby, all that I can think of 
Is Alice

Arithmetic Arithmetock 
I turn the hands back on the clock
How does the ocean rock the boat
How did the razor find my throat
The only strings that hold me here
Are tangled up around the pier

And so a secret kiss
Brings madness with the bliss
And I will think of this
When I'm dead in my grave
Set me adrift and I'm lost over there
But I must be insane
To go skating on your name
And by tracing it twice
I fell through the ice 
Of Alice
There's only Alice 

 How can you not think these words are beautiful?

FISH AND BIRD

© 1992 Jamla Music / 2002 Anti, Inc..
They bought a round for the sailor

And they heard his tale

Of a world that was so far away
And a song that we'd never heard
A song of a little bird
That fell in love with a whale

He said: You cannot live in the ocean
And she said to him: You never can live in the sky
But the ocean is filled with tears
And the sea turns into a mirror
And there's a whale in the moon when it's clear
And a bird on the tide

Please don't cry
Let me dry
Your eyes

So tell me that you will wait for me
Hold me in your arms
I promise we never will part
I'll never sail back to the time
But I'll always pretend you're mine
Though I know that we both must part
You can live in my heart

 

Wow. I mean, really. 

Plus, he's funny:

"All the donuts have names that sound like prostitutes."
"The sky turned black and bruised and we had months of heavy rain."
"Come down off the cross, we could use the wood."
"I know a girl, she been married so many times, she got rice marks all over her face."
"She was sharp as a razor and soft as a prayer."
"I stay in a place called 'Rooms'... There's a whole chain of them."
"I've lost my equilibrium, my car keys and my pride."
"She just goes clank and boom and steam."
"God's away on business." 

Loads more here: http://badasme.com/wit/

Tom Waits by Anton Corbijn. Strong contrasts.

Bringing you back to the drawing first requires a nod to a book.
My pencil work is drawn from one of the amazing photos from a lengthy collaboration between Waits and photographer Anton Corbijn. Here's a link to the book, "Waits/Corbijn -- Photographs 1977-2010." http://www.antilabelblog.com/?p=3797

I was tempted to stop right here, with just the blacks and whites.

The drawing, like Corbijn's black and white photo, also is a study in contrasts: Facial hair, creases, stubble, denim and stripes --all added in stages. There is so much detail that I asked myself 'WTF' about an hour after I'd begun.
America, it's good to say 'WTF' every once in a while. We should do it more. It'll test you and those nearby. Keeps everyone on their toes.
And, it's a good time for Tom Waits, of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, who had his highest debut ever with 'Bad As Me.'
Seems I am not alone.
Good as that!

Tom Waits by Tom Wills is for sale.
Inquiries: hankbonesman@embarqmail.com or willstom01@gmail.com

Corleone recognizes that voice.

No. 141: On Fire

Edward Van Halen is "On Fire: by Tom Wills, February 2012.

Click on each picture to enlarge.

 This image of Edward Van Halen is one of the few that I intended from the start to be a painting. My concept was for him to be on fire, a nod to “On Fire,” the last song from the first album back in 1978. That was 11^th grade for me, and that first Van Halen record baked a lot of us – thwarting our maturity for the 34 years that followed.

Ed has what guitar aficionados call "Brown Tone." It's hard to replicate.

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6z-nxAYhGw

So, a painting. “On Fire.”

Except, it’s not a painting.  It’s a colored drawing.

But it’s not a pencil sketch.  It’s pen and ink.

Granted, I penciled in the outline and shading, and then went over the lines with drawing pens and black ink.

I also used a black ball point pen, a really cheap one, for some shading.

"Do it 'til you're black and blue."

Next, I erased the shading and painted over the faint shadows that remained. The paint? A kiddie Crayola set, $3 at Walgreens.

A little White-Out was used on the right hand.  Hey, I’m an amateur.

"Don't draw the line .."

It’s a drawing for a painting of a drawing.

 
My fear was that he’d turn out a comic book superhero, given the color scheme.  Perhaps he did, anyway.

I did the flame colors first, starting with the head, and then the body.

Guitar, pants and shoes followed.

The most time-consuming part of the process was the color wash for the background: Blue, black, purple and green. All mixed together in Dixie cups.

I drew details over the whole thing when the paint had dried. The hair and face got overhauled.

So, it’s a drawing for a painting of a drawing. Talk about mixed media.

Ed Head.

Van Halen is back in 2012 for a new album and tour. The 34-year immaturity cycle is ramping up again, as it seems to do every five or six years.  I’m hoping Eddie is still on fire, and that he and David Lee Roth go out loud and large.  I can’t wait to be 17 again, even if the boys in the band and I are now in our 50s.

"I heard you missed us. We're back!"

I have had this record for 34 years.

Edward Van Halen is "On Fire"

This illustration is for sale

For inquiries: hankbonesman@embarqmail.com or willstom01@gmail.com

No. 140: Sleeps With Angels

Tom and Corleone, January 2011

I love to watch my dog sleep.

More honestly, I enjoy watching him fall asleep.

There is a window between full-on and completely off that is both brief and mysterious.

He stretches out first, and then those big brown eyes  take a few rolls around the room.

Everything quiet? All in order? Can I see the door?

Am I dominating a sufficiently inappropriate piece of real estate at the end of, or in the middle of, someone’s bed?

The eyes get very heavy.  So heavy.

Like a stone.

Flutter. Twitch.

Fight it.

Close.

Nose gets a little dry.

A long sigh.

Ear flaps down.

Out.

This is a living example of peace on earth.

It takes about seven minutes.

Sometimes I will sit there with him, or lay next to him.

That’s when I notice how, somehow, every hair is in place, as if combed by a woman before bedtime.

How I wish I could fall out of reality so quickly.

How I wish my mind could unspool itself from the day to day like that.

They say dogs don’t have a conscience and don’t care about time.

Horse shit.

They know good and bad, right and wrong. They have only mastered, unlike their masters, how to put their conscience to bed.

This particular model also comes equipped with  an internal clock that wakes me up every morning at 6 a.m.

I draw most of my stuff early in the morning, or late at night, because I am usually wide awake.
Keep me up at hankbonesman@embarqmail.com or willstom01@gmail

No. 139: Like Painting For The Ears

Listening to Jimi Hendrix taught me how to think spatially, as an artist, writer and musician. His sound showed me that everything isn’t up and down, right and left, vertical, horizontal, black or white.

Dusted by a dollar

There’s also around, inside, between, rainbows, moonbeams, Castles Made of Sand.

My Space.

My 19-year-old mind was dusted after hearing “Are You Experienced?”  It was a beat up copy that I’d found for a buck at the old Record Exchange in Niles, Ohio. The used record sticker is still on the cover.  Didn’t matter that it was scratchy.  The notes went above, beyond and away from the vinyl surface.  It was like painting for the ears, all blended and drippy.

Backward and forward

Was he playing backward or forward? Both?  Didn’t sound like he was even trying; it was just happening.

I'd never paid attention until that point.

The live recordings are far better than the studio albums, because in-house engineers really couldn't handle the volume and tones Jimi was trying to put on tape. They sound weak. On stage there were no restrictions, including time constraints, and that's when the floating above notes began. That was the experience.
There are dozens of concert recordings, and more keep coming, because they are all different.  Just like no painting or sketch can be an exact copy. There is different flavor.

There are hundreds of tremendous guitarists. There was one Jimi Hendrix.  We are still playing him today, still finding new versions, unreleased performances, new sounds.  His music has no boundaries. Spatial.

JIMI HENDRIX

December 2011

18'' x 20'' (approx.)

This illustration is for sale.

Contact  willstom01@gmail.com

No. 137: Smoke Up

Christmas 2011

His name was Lorrain.
Lorrain Irwin Wills. He put up with people his entire life, saying that's a girl name.
Truthfully he was the manliest man a kid could ever hope to know.

I decided to hang Grandpa permanently over the bar. It's an appropriate location.

He had an important money job, a big office, loads of friends. Drove Thunderbirds. Was a sharp-dressed man. Made quality time for his family.
Had a self-propelled mower in the 1970s.

Click on each image to expand.

SMOKE UP, 3' x 4'  December 2011

This particular picture comes from a black and white photograph, on Kodak paper, taken in 1963 on the front porch of my parents' first house, on Estabrook Northwest, Warren, Ohio. I actually think that I remember this day, though I know that's impossible.  I was only about 18 months old.

What I do remember is that pipe. Grandpa always had a pipe.

I'd play with his spares and try to be a man like him. And I remember the taste of that empty pipe: Acidic. Sour.

But when he filled it with Half and Half pipe tobacco and lit it up, it was the finest aroma.

Finished sketch on my drawing table.

My grandmother was somewhat of a neat freak who tolerated the pipe but, as their style and status grew, made Grandpa smoke outside. Near the end he swore he'd quit. But I knew he had a smoke kit in the trunk of that blue Thunderbird, and that he'd smoke up on every errand he could find.  Grandma had to know.
It's not what killed him. It might have kept him going so long.

Finished sketch, with a photocopy for reference above.

The black and white photo has been in a vintage frame in my basement for several years. I had just finished a sketch of my brother and I, circa 1960s, for my dad for Christmas 2011 when I decided to tackle this. I knew that it would be a challenge. 

Below are some steps in the creative process.

 

At this point, nearly completed. Needs final detailing and shading.

Trying to figure out how to place his feet, and their shadows.

Sketched in the folds in Grandpa's pants.

I've got my feet on the ground, but half of Grandpa is missing!

Working from the top down.

The framed photo, the laptop image, and a photocopy reference.

A rough version of my face.

A rough take on his hand and face.

On the porch with Grandpa, 1963.

This large sketch, which I still have to frame, is my Christmas present to myself. I feel good looking at it, and I felt good doing it and remembering those childhood days. 

I used to keep lighters, matches and a cigar cutter inside of one of Grandpa's Half and Half cans. But I gave up cigars this year, and dumped the accessories. I don't have any hidden in the trunk of my car.

I kept the Half and Half can, however. It's a little rusty inside. Nicotine'll do that to ya.

Smoke Up

A Tom Wills Production, December 2011.

To inquire about a special family portrait, email hankbonesman@embarqmail.com or willstom01@gmail.com