Gourmet Yeti Spaghetti: From the Wilderness to Your Table

Now you know.

Yeti's eat people and hoofed mountain mammals...

...not spaghetti.

Here you go, my submission to January's Yeti Spaghetti:


I just hope it has fun washing the sauce out of its fur.

YUM YUM yeti spaghetti!

It's easier to eat spaghetti with a fork.



but sometimes its fun to eat with your hands.

Are you done yeti?

Hope all of your monitors have been calibrated...



Drop shadow explosion.

January's Super Awesome Art Challenge is...

Now I know that I have seen all of you at some point in time draw something resembling the lovable yet elusive Yeti. Also it is a little known fact that the Yeti has a fondness for certain pasta dishes, mainly spaghetti (probably because it rhymes). January's challenge is to create something representative of the Yeti Spaghetti genre.

Good luck!

-adam H

Cowboy Christmas Challenge Complete!!

Congratulations to all participants of December's Super Awesome Art Challenge!! My expectations were met and exceeded. You guys rock as I much as I assumed you would. We got an amazing mix from rootin' tootin' Cowboy Santas to a tale of sorrow featuring and actual cow boy.

Now a few updates for next month; Chris Hajny fixed up the site so you can post up to 500 pixels wide now. Hooray. You don't have to but any of you who don't already use Flickr you might want to look into it as I've found it's a great way to manage posting imagery.

Nice work all and I look forward to next month's submissions.

-adam H

Cowboy Late-mas

So yes, I am not setting a very good example by posting late but here it is. Outlaw Santa knows how to deal with naughty lil' varmints. This also marks the first time in a loooong time I did a piece in pshop using my actual pencil sketch. Don't worry though, I'll get all anal and do the next one in illustrator. Click here for a larger size.

-adam H

Hott-Diggity its a Cowboy Christmas (or something...)

So, I am just getting in under the wire here... But this is my submission to the cowboy christmas.

A quick, and dirty photoshop painting, done with an old timey mouse and not one of those new fangled digital pens...



~Jesse

Cowboy Christmas? More like Cowboy HISS-mas!

Cowboy Christmas is a time for everyone to feel the warming love of Ye Olde West, and to give presents to varmints (also acceptable: varmits).



You can check out the original size to try to see some of the fine detail on his vest. Or even better, his boots. If you're into that kind of thing.

Cow Boy Christmas

"Then let us play as Beauty and Death," said she, "And so play at the beauty of death!"
"But also let the death be only a play," added Cow Boy, "Such that your beauty is made for more than the worms of the earth; Such that my eyes be able to open upon it?"
"Only you would think first to otherwise," she laughed, and ultimately agreed, dancing away, hair alight with colored lamps in the crisp hazelnut air.

Though her word was kept, it was first the townsfolk who found her, face powdered blue and asleep by a draught, skin chilled from an open window. Her father screamed words heavy with vowels that tore through his throat, up, and stung the sharp ears of Cow Boy, just emerging from the forest. He dropped his firewood and took one step toward the town, but froze as the raised voices of others came above the father's cry. "This was the doing of Cow Boy!" they shreiked. "He knew she could never fully befriend such as he, much less love!"

Cow Boy's mind swirled as fast as his limbs held in the snow. An ache pounded in his throat as he picked the truth from their words; in his temples as he surmised the fallacies that followed: "He carries disease!" one shout emerged, the ironsmith's son, "In his breath, in his presence, in the wood he delivers us!" Added the baker and his daughter, "It was his sickness killed her! And so shall it take more of us!" The counselor agreed, and a harried cleansing began. They sundered the just-sleeping girl from her sullen father's arms and set her upon a collection of all the firewood in town, and lit the whole ablaze.

And from this pyre was brought to flame torches, in the hands of a strong plurality of townsfolk, the girl's father among them. "Find the Cow Boy before the month is through! Rid this beset world of his cruel stench, and begin the year clean of all his traces!" From his vantage, Cow Boy reckoned then the beauty of death, as the sparkling flames held aloft in the angry hands of the town below him converged and split-- flickering and fading Christmas lights, they, becoming even more a heaven of stars as his tears began to freeze across the long, black lashes of his eyes.

Crushing the stars tight, he turned and ran.