Like  anyone who’s ever been asleep I strongly believe that my dreams are better than your dreams.

Reading Georges Perec’s demented dreamdiary La Boutique Obscure (lovingly translated by Daniel Levin Becker) inspired me to pay more attention to my nocturnal life, so I’m trying to keep a semi-regular diary now. I very rarely remember the dreams, most of them too bleak and depressing even by my standards, and yes, I die daily. I could never keep a daylight diary, mainly because my life is of no interest to me, but the vagueness of dreams and the difficulty I have in remembering and piecing their disjointed bits together is great fun.

(Source: bluebed.net)

Superbawwl.

A vegetable adream.

Had a morningmare of Ryan Sands of Thickness fame casually diagnosing me with a fatal disease from touching two plants within a specific period of time via the medium of an old-timey Mouse.

Bildingspaffa. I was left sad & brushless in LA so I decided to ink all this vomit with copic pens. By the way, I drew this (and a couple of other things) in the company of Hellen Jo (witnessed her drawing one of her pretty ladies: magic! pure!), Calvin Wong, Frank & Becky (enough namesdropping), JR Goldberg and a truckload of other talented people, which was great & motivating. Miss them all dearly. I wish I had more cartooning frenz in SF.

My kickstarter is almost over, thanks everyone for support!

If all goes well, mighty staplers  will pierce the mincing machine adding a touch of cold steel to the spread. Details.

Woke up from a horrible dream last night and decided to record it in one go, 10 minutes per drawing. Turned out pretty sketchy and rough of course, but oh the quantity.

Click for the full thing.