Painting Jazz at the Long Island Museum

My mom's the museum's PR director. I helped her come up with the name of this program.

Binary Simon

...is my first (and so far only) attempt at creating something for the comic book medium. I put it together for a desktop publishing class in 2007 using stock images, Quark and Photoshop. I've been holding this back since then because it comes off as so ridiculously pretentious -- God makes a cameo and assumes control of the narrative for a few pages -- that it was hard for me to read after I graduated from college and got my mind right. That being said, I feel that by now I've matured to the point where I can laugh at all this and take some measure of pride in a few panels. One last note: I've since forgotten how to use Quark and Photoshop entirely and all that remains of this is the final .pdf that was taken to the printer. For one reason or another, the cover is the last page.
https://docs.google.com/open?id=0BxktYCTX8KuWTmNUS0xaY2pPa0E

Jonathan Dean on Marriage

I have no words...

The Marketing Campaign of My Dreams

Ads by Jonathan Dean via Clifford Morrissey, one of my co-workers who co-publishes a print magazine (yes, print only, imaginge that!) called Linda (I'm all up in it).

R.I.P. Jean Giraud

Yesterday, the world lost one of its greatest artists, Jean Giraud aka Moebius, a 73-year-old Frenchman who'd been destroying shit since the late '50s/early '60s. To put it simply, Moebius was and always will be a bad motherfucker. If you're unfamiliar with his work, please take some time to appreciate the man's creative genius, a source of inspiration for countless filmmakers, graffiti artists, authors and fellow comic book illustrators the world over.

Beach Art

Don't know who did this but nice work...

A narrative poem from spring 2005

This poem was written for an introductory level creative writing class in early 2005. I was 19 at the time. If I remember correctly the assignment given was to visit Boston's Museum of Fine Arts and compose a poem based on any one work present there. I was particularly struck by John Singleton Copley's painting, Watson And The Shark. Here is my poem of the same title:

How many times did I tell you young Watson?
We’re patiently awaiting the captain’s arrival.
But alas, you continued on and on:
a pestilence, incessant as the sailor’s itch itself…

Fine then, enjoy your swim, orphan boy.

I shall never forget the look in your eyes
at that dreadful discovery of deadly demise
approaching: horrifying surprise.
I assure you, our desperate screams onboard
echoed the sentiments of your cries.

But quicker than shifting tides
came the miracle winds of hope.
Reach for his hand, son. Grab the rope.
You shall not fall victim to that blackened throat.

And with the helping hands of fate,
good will, and faith in the maker’s strength,
may I be damned if you did not make your escape.

May the Lord curse these murky seas
and beasts that lurk within the deep.