papernoise blackbook

I had another terrible week. A week where I had no time ad all the wonderfully superfluous things like, among others, updating my blog. Maybe I have to accept the things as they are and renounce one and for all to the idea of posting here regularly… but whatever…

It’s no news that I don’t read a lot of comics anymore. I prefer to inspire myself with other media, like for example novels. I’ve stumbled over a couple of really interesting readings lalely, which I’d like to talk about here.

The first one is Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, a book that take the original novel by Jane Austen and turns it into something you’d actually want to read (as the book itself states). Apart from the illustrations, which are just plain lousy (why do they pay people like that to illustrate a book, while talented people have a hard time getting commissions?) and the fact that the book is no easy reading, it’s a great experiment and great fun to read most of the time. The author keeps the original plot and linguistic style, adddins a bit of zombies, gore and martial arts here and there. While this novel is not perfect (sometimes it can be tiresome to read, due to the old fashioned language, and the there’s some problems with the storyline here and there) I highly recomend it!

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pride_and_Prejudice_and_Zombies

Another book I’d like to talk about it In Cuniculum by Lapin. Unfortunately this one’s only available in English, but since It contains several illustratins by me, (attention: subliminal advertising) I though I’d talk about it anyway. Lapin has a highly imaginative and surreal way of writing, the short stories that make up In Cuniculum are sometimes shocking, sometimes fascinating. One way or the other, Lapin knows how to surprise you and the book is a great read I hope he’ll get it translated in the future!

www.lacarmelinaedizioni.it

Spine di Lucy

Il bambino con le Spine nacque di sette mesi con un parto cesareo prima che le punte si conficcassero nelle viscere delle madre. A sei mesi pareva un cactus, a due anni un porcospino. Nessuno voleva giocare con lui. Crescendo le spine diventavano sempre più appuntite. Quando incontrò la ragazza Giunco si avvicinò a lei senza preoccuparsi di poterla trafiggere. Lei si insinuò tra le sue Spine senza pungersi. Innamorati rimasero incastrati l’una nell’altro per lungo tempo. Ma lei, stanca di adattare continuamente la sua forma all’andamento delle punte dell’amato, un giorno sparì lasciando solo un biglietto scritto col sangue.

Notes

This story reminded me a lot of the short stories by Tim Burton, so I was really tempted to draw something in that style. In the end I decided to do something just following the inspiration of the moment, without following predefined models (as far as that is possible). So this illustration is more about an idea, a moment, a sensation…

Lazy Saturday Sketches is back as well, and it’s also changing a bit. I might change it’s name into Lazy Saturday Monsters, because that’s what you will be seeing in the next weeks!

IL giorno dell oca by Scoiattolazzo

Libellule polacche strozzate dal gas.
Cigni ungheresi morti di inedia.
I forti tori dell est, decimati.

C’e’ puzza, ed un vento abominevole, mentre l oca dagli anfibi neri fa il verso all acquila.
E nell anfratto schifoso e osceno dove medita, anche il diavolo distoglie lo sguardo davanti all orrore.
Anni dopo a  Norimberga, 17 oche vengono giudicate, impiccate,  fatte a pezzi e bruciate nei loro stessi forni.
Vittime… carnefici….specchi distorti.
C’e’ gente che giura che tra una sentenza e l altra si e’ sentito piu’ di un quack, provenire da dei giudici dal becco giallo.

Note

The hundred word stories are back! There have been time when I thought that never again I would find the strength to draw a line. But probably I just needed to focus on something completely different (like synths and making some music) Giètz! has put my mind and body to great fatigue. Drawing a graphic novel is alway hard, but when the product of your efforts feels like something alien, it’s even worse. I still think that in the end I did a decent work, and that Giètz! is an interesting project, worth being made, and that I needed to be working on it. It’s been a great experience. Nonetheless, now more than ever, I know what path I want to be travelling on, so it’s great to see that my lust for drawing is coming back again!

(Senza titolo) by Cubber

O per esempio il tac tac del bastone di un cieco sul selciato. Tac
tac tac… non vedo il cieco perché è dietro di me, ma il tac tac
corre sul selciato, sale per un buco sotto le mie scarpe, tac tac tac,
come una febbre delle ossa, tac tac tac, un valzer di marionette; mi
sale lungo la nuca come per darmi la morte, tra i capelli come un filo
o un insetto urticante; mi ustiona mentre scende lungo la faccia, tac
tac tac, entra in bocca e apre nei denti una crepa che si fa sempre
più grande.

Notes

I never really worked on this story, though I had it laying around for some time, because I didn’t know how to draw it. The story is told from the inside out, it’s about things you feel, not things you see. So how to visualize this? In the end I decided to try to illustrate the events in the story how they might appear in the protagonist’s mind.

Sorry, still none of my regular posts. But in the meantime here’s a small preview of a comic I’ve been working on lately. It’s about the fathers of goth rock Bauhaus and it will be published in the upcoming anthology Guida illustrata al frastuono più atroce #2 by the Italian punk comic group Lamette. I really like the vintage film touch I managed to give to this panels. Basically it’s the “Dog Show technique” adapted to b/w. The text is a variation on the Bauhaus hit Bela Lugosi is Dead. That’s why it all looks like some old horror movie.

The Black Hole by Hannes Pasqualini

In the beginnig it was just a medium sized black hole in the ground, some kind of well, they thought. Farmer Rossert and his younger son Eldebun had been looking at it for most of the afternoon trying to get a clue on its origins. At one point it started to become more two-dimensional, like a flat black disk sitting on the grass and spinning nervously on itself. Farmer Rossert picked up a small stone and threw it into the hole. He never should have done that.

notes

It’s been some time since I last posted one of my own stories, actually I only did it once inepisode #1. Well, today I wasn’t in the mood to work on anybody else’s stories, so you’ll get this one.

Nocciola by Alessandro Bonino

I coniugi Mario e Laura Piovano, di Serravalle Scrivia, in provincia di Alessandria, avevano cercato per molto tempo di avere un bambino senza, purtroppo, ottenere alcun risultato. Su consiglio del Dottor Alberto Miniati, primario della clinica San Michele Arcangelo di Cadelbosco di Sopra, provincia di Reggio Emilia, grande luminare che aveva seguito tutti i loro infruttuosi tentativi, decisero di intraprendere l’estenuante percorso dell’adozione. Dopo dieci lunghi mesi, ricevettero finalmente la comunicazione che un bambino era stato loro assegnato. Grande fu la loro sorpresa quando scoprirono che non si trattava affatto di un bambino, ma di una strega di nome Nocciola.

Notes

I’m finally back with some hundred word stories! I was really starting to miss them. The author of this first story of 2010, is yet another new entry in the project (I get quite some requests lately, and that’s great!). I’ve been drawing people in suites for so much time now (Gietz has something to do with is, in case you wondered), that it becomes quite automatic for me to draw a tie on a male character…

This is perfect timing: today is Thursday, and tomorrow is Christmas… so I couldn’t resist to the tentation of publishing a properly Christmas-themed story. I hope that this little tale, written especially for this occasion by Ryan Licata, may help you evade, if only for a second, from the claws of Christmas madness…
And of course… Merry Christmas to all of you people and thanks very much for having devoted a bit of your time to read this blog, in the past year.

Nobody Writes to the Fat Man by Ryan Licata

Albtraum stood outside the fat man’s room with a pair of darned socks and a hot water bottle. The elf nudged open the door and peeked inside. By candle light he saw his old friend over by the window, the four glass panes frosted over, sitting in nothing but his y-fronts. “Leave everything over on the bed, Albtraum.” He placed the things down with deliberate slowness, then, light of foot, stepped just outside the door to watch as Santa began to trace upon each of the frosted panes the names of all the children whom no longer sent him letters.