Lurkers

More For Matt

The overpaid and exceptionally good looking Matt Jones remarked that it was nice to see me using some colour.
Here is some more.

Buy! Buy! Buy!

Would you like to buy my house ? (click to see)
An excellent summer residence for all you shivering Euros.

Shitting

Well.
The house goes on the market on Wednesday.
This is a pictographical representation of how I am feeling about the future.

Also my work is far more interested in red tape than servicing client or doing work.
You've all seen Brazil, by Terry Gilliam?
Very similar.

Blogger Seems To Have Recovered

This is usually where I draw.
See that funky, retro style table?
I used it to teethe on when I were a bubby.

Also - although you can't really see it, that image on the wall is the first time I did a "scribble" picture.
At the time I felt compelled to leave a character in there (I'm a cartoonist after all) and it was some time before I took a leap and did one without.

FYI - 500 thousand people on this apple isle.

From the Back Room

Shiny House For Sale - Get it While It's Hot!

Rancho Cowan for sale. I'll post the real estate link when there is one (tomorrow sometime I imagine).
For some reason it wont let me post any images today and I've had to go back to using Hello, which is not ideal.
I am feeling the nerves....

Day Off

I have the day off to get my house ready for sale.
Here are some photos I took this evening instead of drawings (which is what you get when I'm busy).
This is a large ex weaving mill with lots of great studio space that has been ruined by God botherers who moved in and turned it into some kind of church.
Most dissapointing.

Also I've not finished it completely, but I've been exploiting blogger as best I can and have created a Best Of Sandwichbag, which is made up of my favorite images but without the surprise of nudity or having to hear me tell people to fuck off.
Could be useful.

I Am Not Me

This is me (and evil baby).
Elliot Cowan.
Or am I???
I discovered a few days ago that in fact, officially, I am Elliot Cohen.

My father, born a Cohen, was adopted by a Glaswegian family, also called Cohen, but went by the name Cowan (a common Scottish name).
This was presumably to detract from any Jewishness.
It wasn't until I got my British passport and had a look at the papers my father had to supply that I even knew.
As all his identification said he was a Cowan, except for his birth certificate, when he applied for his own passport 10 years ago, he changed his name officially by deed poll to Cowan so it all matched.
So in reality, I'm not a Cowan at all!

Scrawl and Home

This is the front of my house.
That thing peering at you is Big Saul.
You can just see the top of Little Sauls head.


The corner of the house and some of the back yard.


My inkwell.


Where I draw at home!

All Kinds of Things

Some ink experiments from last year.
Top one has been attacked with a stanley knife and then rewashed.
Bottom one was drawn with sticks.



I'm busy today and had trouble drawing the nude girls that I was hoping to post.
Instead you get an art combined with violence theme, which is nearly as nice as naked girls, but not quite.
Also - I think my British passport may have arrived - I have to go pick something up from the post office this afternoon...

Yes - it was indeed my British passport.
What a peculiar feeling.

Done for redhead thread on Drawingboard.org

Happy Anniversary - PLUS MORE!

Pussy, muff, slit, gutted Ewok.
There are all kinds of things you can called the humble vagina.
In Australia you can also call it "The Map of Tassie".
It was 9 years ago to the day I moved to this fucking place (pun intended).
Happy Anniversary.
This will be my last year.

Recurring images.
Smoking factories.
Silhoutted monsters.
Girls with short hair.
Enraged people.
Me.


I post this image for talented up and coming designer Rebecca Angelou who doesn't think I know much about women.
Like everyone else, I know women spend all their time at slumber parties, chin deep in each others labias.

Obsession

I had a thought last night as I was scribbling these images down.
I had watched Martin Scorsese's film The Aviator again a few weeks back.
For those who do not know of it is a biographical movie about well known obsessive compulsive Howard Hughes.
In this film, Howard would get stuck on a word, a phrase and his mind would force him to repeat it over and over until it sounded "right".
It never would.
And it occured to me that those of us who make images might have some of this obsessive compulsion in us also - but fortunately with mechanisms built in to cope.
Why do we draw?
What makes us do it?
I am sure that many of you relate to times when you have drawn the same image 350 times until it is right (the mechanism clicks in there instead of us spending our lives locked in rooms and widdling in milk bottles).
I have posted my big scribble pictures before - I find it to be an entirely pleasing experience to spend days scritching away at these things.
Obessively adding new layers of ink.
I know when the are done - but until that point I can't put it down.
And how about those of you who obsess at 24 frames a second - surely the ultimate obessive compultion.
My giant scribbles remain inert forever, but your image last for only a moment.
But they all have to be right or it doesn't work.
And this blogging business.
I hate not posting at least once a day.
What happens if I dont?
Nothing! But I feel compelled to do it.
And because I don't always have anything to say, I fall back on the same themes and images.
Is this part of it too?
That'll do for now - I need to go wash my hand. Again. Again. Again. Again....

Last Night

I don't like going out in this town much.
Anyone who has seen the film Sideways should be able to work out the dynamics between me and my friend Alex.
I accidently drew smokers but you can't smoke in Tasmanian pubs anymore.

The Pleasure of a Nib

Line Up

Villians, thieves, vagabonds, thugs, cut-throats, purse snatchers, ruffians, troublemakers.

Ancient Art

This is an old one (10 years or so).
I won a prize for it but I don't recall what.