Last night I had this dream: I dreamed I was flying to England and when I got to the airport they told there was no room for my luggage on the plane. So I decided that the best thing for me to do was to wear everything in my suitcase. I put on all six pairs of socks, six boxers, five shirts (long-sleeved), seven t-shirts, three pairs of jeans, some nice chinos, a hoodie, a wool cap, an overcoat, a longish scarf and a pair of low profile fleece gloves. Oh, and some workout shorts. Luckily, I was able to fit my running shoes, toiletries, and electric razor easily into my messenger bag along with my phone charger, passport and the latest issue of "Garden & Gun" Magazine. And then things got weird.

Here's the story: 

When I was about 11 years old, Famous Monsters of Filmland Magazine came out with a special issue called "Do-It-Yourself Monster Make-Up Handbook." I really wanted that magazine. I wanted to make myself look like a monster. My parents and I were on different sides of the whole monster movie fad that was raging during the 60s. They thought it would leave scars, if not creases, in my young impressionable mind (in hindsight, they were probably right but this is something I never would have told them). 

Anyway, I thought to myself, "Fuck them. I don't need a stinking Handbook to show me how to look monstrous." So I snuck my dad's razor into my bedroom and carefully shaved my red stuffed teddy bear - a birthday gift which no longer fit in with my current interest in vampires, werewolves, mummies and large–brained space aliens. I covered my face with a thick layer of Elmer's Glue-All and pressed the red fuzzy teddy bear shavings into the wet goo.

When my parents called me to dinner that evening, in walked The Scarlet Werewolf.

"I must get this crack mended."

"This is Carole Ledoux: young, beautiful, desirable. Men found her irresistable. But something is happening to her -- something that she doesn't quite understand. And soon she will be swept up in a frantic fury of...REPULSION."

Watched this movie back in art school days and it really stuck with me. When I saw this film was coming up as part of Enzian's Cult Classic Movies Series, I couldn't wait to do the poster. I re-watched the film several times to try to find the right way to portray this movie on the poster. I wanted to visually capture the claustrophobic sense of paranoia permeating the film. And nothing says "claustrophobic paranoia" like big ass eyeballs.

Domo arigato, Mister Roboto!

Here's a swell little project I did for the Cancer Navigators of Rome, Georgia, a community resource for cancer patients and survivors.

MOSURA!!

Okay. So, Pacific Rim's special effects are amazing. And sure, the acting and dialog are snappy. But where's the magic? Where's the thing that will keep a kid awake at night thinking and re-thinking about the movie. Where's that special moment a kid wants to relive so badly he'll sneak out of bed - risking parental admonishment - to draw, with as much detail as he can pull out of his brain, a recreation of that moment? Where can a tender mind find such magnificence? I'll tell you where: MOTHRA.

Enzian Cult Classic Films poster, screen printed 18" x 24"

Bah.

Open publication - Free publishing - More delightful

WE BURN THEM TO ASHES. THEN WE BURN THE ASHES.

This coming Tuesday, September 25th, Enzian Theater presents for its Cult Classic Movies series, Francois Truffaut's 1966 adaptation of Ray Bradbury's socio-political sci-fi gem, Fahrenheit 451. One of the great things about doing posters for this series is that it gives me an excusable reason to sit down and really look hard at some fantastic movies. Truffaut's Fahrenheit 451 is no exception. His cerebral approach to the text, while leaving many critics and film-goers of that time perplexed, offers a film experience that even today seems modern.

Come out next Tuesday. Watch a movie, drink a beer, have some popcorn and buy my poster.

And then there's this:

Have these people no sense of irony?