I spilled green ink on this one. . . so its kind of not finished. Wendi said it would be alright.
People may say that I draw a lot of Robots. Or more precisely, that I draw a particular kind of robot. Its a robot that draws upon a unique kind of construction. My robots feel as though they are made out of rubber bands, paper clips, a tightly compressed spring, and an impending entropic force. They can’t stand or walk very easily. They don’t move silently through the streets. Rather, they creak and moan as they move along. Sparks and pops occur in a rhythm with stock and step.
The origin of this seems, to me, to date back to my childhood. In the dual nature of my indestructable yet pliant action figures. Their joints were made of elasctic bands or restricting pivots. These strangely colored avatars of cartoon characters were endowed with entirely new or elaborate additions to their origin stories. Accessories were immediately lost so any ornamentation suddenly served dual purpose. Arms shot lasers, venting became jet engines. . . every eye shot lasers in the 80s.
You can see the aestheic transference I’m sure. Its important to remember that I am an adult now and my robots are vastly more complicated than my childhood action figures. They have depth and emotions that are complex and deep. But most important, they have a fury in them that will snap the rubber band and spring loaded joints of their peers and fellows. These designs are for an upcoming story which involves a bit of a robot melee. Just a visual to accompany my status: “at home drawing Kung-Fu grips”. To accompany or supplant what you may be thinking.