First, my genuine thanks to deviant artist Prinsesa Zelda (Datu Hael?) for featuring Malate on her Hirangsakabunyan blogroll. Although I really don’t know who’s who, maybe I will meet these people and their eccentric works when the free BBQs of WordCamp land on our shores. Meantime, allow me to brag about my own eccentricities and/or what usually happens when frustrated artists enter business school. Pls don’t scoff at me.
You artists today must be having a grand time with the magics of Adobe. Before, adobes were brick materials and we put it to good use as septic tank walls. But of course that was decades ago, when “mouse” refers to rodent and “notebooks” need not have gigs of memories. My notebooks then were different. I naturally clutch them under arm en route to school giving people the impression of a true blue stereotyped college stude. Crisp, white, grade- A pages nice to write on. But no. When the prof starts talking about Economics 101, Finance 7 or Accounting 3, I would succumb to these pages with my “freehand 101.” Drawing, sketching on my blank pages with just about anything that pops out from my mind. As always, a distraction to the next guy. And vice-versa.
I somehow managed to preserve loads of these my “notes” up to the time when scanners were readily available.
Exhibit A: One needs not be an expert psychoanalysts to interpret that these pieces could’ve been hastily done on a classroom at the time of New Wave/Punk/Hardcore era when WXB-102 was the “station that dares to be different” and exland doorsland was really..Xmal Deutschland with their No.1 diabolical hit, “Sucubus, Incubus.”
My writing pads were unlike the ordinary ruled ones. Those dull lines don’t make my images tick so I bound my own custom-made notebook using only plain white shiny bond pages .