this last batch of doodles has got sunil thinking about thinking. i often ponder that same subject myself.

i think in english. that bothers me. english is a learned language, but thoughts are not. so, my brain has a thought, but then translates the thought into language so i can understand the thought. the translation is seamless, but it seems rather inefficient.

think of all the time i could save if i knew the native language of my thoughts. how much more powerful would my brain be? i bet i could levitate shit and be invisible if i wanted.

could be worse, if my thoughts were in chinese, i would have no idea what i was thinking.

ultranote - yes, comments are still broken, and i am still too lazy to fix it. i may not, since comments have been broken, i have been geting really cool email (griffATultramicroscopicDOTcom). thanks y'all.

new baby, new job, new house. posting here seems to be infrequent, but the sketch book continues to overflow with doodles.

comment thingy is broken and i am way to busy/tired/unmotivated to fix it. perhaps another day. if communication is desired, email still works, griffATultramicroscopicDOTcom.

oh, and one more thing, if you have come here looking for the bastard that sent you spam mail, it is not i. unfortunately a spammer has hijacked my URL as a return address. if it is not from "griff" it is not from me.

this little guy actually escaped the sketchbook and made it into photoshop. very few are able to reach escape velocity and break into the dimension of color. kinda fun to play with color.

i wonder what doctors showed expectant mothers before ultrasound.

these lil fellas fell out of a very boring conference call. they all live happily together on page 48 of the current sketch book.

ultranote - these doodles are actually smaller than you are viewing them. the pen lines are thiner (sakura micron 005) than the rezolution of your monitor. they were scanned at 200 dpi then webized.

upon finishing a 30 second impromptu jam session on his invisible kit, the drummer returned the sticks to their upright position, pointing skyward, tucked in an elastic headband, just above his ears. mounted on his head, the sticks resembled antenna.

the drummer sat silently and motionless waiting. many others also waited but were pretending not to. terminal c gate 18 was his concert hall and we were his captive audience.

the left antenna twitched slightly. he turned his head to the left, eyes unfocused. there was nothing to see. infinite rhythms pass though us unnoticed. microwaves, light waves, radio waves, electicity, the small rounded tips of the drummer's antenna sense them all. even more seemingly invisible, are transmissions from keith moon and john bonham. the drummer's brain cracks the transmissions and is inspired.

suddenly the antenna once again become drum sticks in his hands. he assaults the imaginary kit for 30 seconds. when it is over, he spins the sticks in his hands like a gunfighter in an old western and then returns them to their upright position, pointing skyward.

just when i thougt i was home for good, two more unexpected weeks in atlanta stole me from my life.

i am becoming the shitty father i have tried so hard to avoid. on the road more than i am at home. son one asked me to quit my job. i am broken, only my family can fix me. maybe this week i can stay home.

currently spinning on the ipod...
Cat's in the Craddle, Harry Chapin
Father of Mine, Everclear
Poppa was a Rolling Stone, The Temptations

meanwhile, another airport abstraction doodle.

this is why everyone should keep a sketch book. i was looking for some notes in an old sketch book and found this.

i don't remember ever sketching my glasses. it's quite possible it was drawn while intoxicated, and also quite possibly done with my left hand. perhaps even blind folded.

or maybe you did it in my book when i wasn't looking. please do some more, i quite enjoyed it.

not really sure what this is.

more doodles from the airport. too much time in airports makes me believe the shapes of luggage are interesting. surely an early sign of insanity.

all work and no play makes ultramicroscopic a dull blog. work has become all consuming. nearly all thoughts are work related. recurring dreams of defining information architecture are slowly leading me to insanity. my brain is using every moment both awake and asleep to find a way out of this maze.

waiting at the airport.

i am 37. at what age does acne stop?

who are you, what are you still doing here? it has been a long time. i miss you.

this weekly commute to atlanta continues to steal away my life. the only mitigating factor is that much doodling happens when waiting for airplanes. thousands of studies in airport abstractions to be posted when my life is returned to me.

meanwhile you can find me at gate t-12.

the television hanging from the ceiling in terminal c, gate 36 defecates cnn on to the travelers below. no news, just coby bryant, what saddahm might look like in a fedora, j-lo's ass, and purple bears.

crap 24/7.

if you have not noticed, today is bring you brat...er, i mean kid to work day.

hundreds have invaded the workspace and i can lie no longer. truth be told, your kid is not really that cute. she resembles a ferret in dire need of cosmetic dentistry.

and, when i asked your kid what grade he was in, i really don't give a rat's ass, i only asked to be polite. so, when you gave me the extended dance mix answer of the grade, school name, the teachers name, the janitors name, and the story about the kid that smeared boogers in your hair, i was thinking about other things . other things like guessing the over/under on how many years before the parents neuroses make the kid climb a bell tower with a high powered scope and a deer rifle.

i so want to tell many of these kids what a useless jack ass their mother truly is and about the plan to replace her with a chimp. or how their father is an evil, self-centered, ego maniac, micro manager suit that i personally plan to drag into hell one day.

oh, and one more thing, i know my head is freakishly large. if one more kid points and laughs, i will crush them with it.

ultranote - this economy sucks, i think the day should be renamed "bring your kid to the government cheese line day"

But I could better myself if I could only find some new kind of kick
something I ain't had
some new kind of buzz
I wanna go hog mad lookin' and lookin' and lookin'
for someting I ain't had before
I'm lookin' and lookin'
To find some new kind of kick
gimme a kick
like baby needs mom
like Susie needs dick
this baby needs som new kind of kick

Lux Interior, the Cramps

help me. i am in a rut. i read the same few blogs every day, i listen to the same songs every day, i draw the same little kreepy kids every day.

i trust you have poked around here enough to know what i do and don't like.

PLEASE, leave a comment exposing me to kewl new blogs, music and illustrators!

the fascination and experimentation with the interaction of positive and negative space continues. it is interesting when defined rules used to draw the image naturally extend themselves to color application, even though the rules were not intended to dictate color application.

hmmm, re-reading that last paragraph, i sound like a pompous ass. bottom line, it's just 2 of many doodles from a sketchbook.

ink drawings, scanned from a sketchbook and colorized in photoshop.

well, it has been a while since i have posted any doodles. i am finally getting around to unpacking my sketchbooks from moving boxes and a newly bought scanner replaces the ancient one that must have been dropped by the movers.

so, the doodles resume with the balloon boy.

hey, what do ya know? i'm the featured doodle of the day!

another doodle from my latest obsession with foreground, background and negative space. i have many many of these, only a few turn out interesting. i am sparing you the 485 that didn't.

the blade hovered above his swollen toe. finally he gathered enough courage and quickly moved the knife downward. the skin only offered slight resistance, then gave way to the blade. the hiss of escaping gas startled him. reflex quickly retracted the blade. almost immediately, the hissing stopped and his toe looked deflated. the gas had given the toe form, now it had none.

the pain was gone.

he pinched the empty toe between his finger and thumb feeling for something, any thing, maybe bone but there was nothing. he tried to look into the hole but it was too small. he cut the hole larger, there was no blood. a few off white pebbles fell out of the hole and rolled a few inches across the floor. he assumed the pebbles were once bone.

curiosity over ruled common sense and he made an incision further up his foot where it still had form and volume. small soft shapes and a thick mucus pushed out of the incision. he pulled a noodle like form from the hole and examined it. it was warm, soft, and yellow. it greatly resembled macaroni and cheese, except it smelled very bad.

realization that the self surgery may not have been the right thing to do, he quickly packed the noodle back into the incision and closed the hole with a bandage. he gathered the pebbles and put them back inside the empty toe. he inserted a straw into the hole and re-inflated the toe and sealed it with super glue.

tomorrow he would call a doctor.

son one is in kindergarten. each morning it takes a hurculean effort to get him dressed for school.

nearing wit's end, wife has turned to a popular child rearing technique known as "love and logic". the most basic premise is not to hassle or force your kids into action. let them make their own decisions (within logical limits) and live with consequences. the simple theory being, the children will learn from their mistakes and eventually be able to consider consequences before actions and make better decisions.

today we gave son one the option of wearing the outfit pre-selected by the wife or his sleeping attire. he chose the latter.

he wore a fat chick night shirt to school today.

he will be teased.

we are raising either a future president or a future bell tower sniper.

hey! it's my doodle of the day over at doodleoftheday.co.uk!

a cool little site, check it out!

the dent in the yard was about the size of a softball and nearly eight inches deep. a trail from the dent to the open door of my house was visible. the suppressed grass blades pointed to the door. there was a barely visible path from the door to the couch. listening closely i could hear labored breathing and an occasional sloshing sound.

the darkness behind the couch cloaked what appeared to be a ball of some sort. perhaps my son's softball. a softball that wheezed and slightly trembled. a flashlight was needed.

the beam of light caused it's eyes to close. it clenched it's eyelids so tightly, it belched. spittle ran down it's chin and soaked into the carpet. it looked sort of like a small head, but it was almost perfectly round. no torso, arms, or legs. it rolled forward a few inches to avoid the light.

it was an unattractive little head, but it did not frighten me. it seemed harmless enough, i mean with no body, arms, or legs what kind of serious threat could it pose? that being said, it wasn't really something i wanted in the house. i doubt it would share the litter box with the two cats.

i moved the couch aside and reached down to pick it up. i didn't know what i would do with it, perhaps just throw it into the sky and hope it returns to the place from which it came. as my hand gripped it, i was surprised how soft it's flesh was and how easily the flesh moved around a solid skull form a half an inch or so under the flesh. i tried to lift it, the flesh distorted but the skull inside did not move. it felt as if it was nailed to the floor. two hands would be needed. i lifted with both hands and was shocked. the head easily weighed over 200 pounds. only an inch off the floor i dropped it. the face was not amused. i remembered a back pain brochure that illustrated the proper way to lift heavy objects. i straddled the head, back straight with slightly bent knees. i tried to interlock my fingers underneth the fleshy orb.

just then the doorbell rang. i left the head so see who it could be.

a boy stood at the door holding a box of oversized nestle crunch bars. "hello sir, i am part of the candy for college program, i am visiting your neighborhood looking for sponsors..."

just then i heard a rolling sound from behind me. the sound grew in volume as it neared. the face of the boy verified what i feared was happening. the little head rolled onto the boys left foot. the boy dropped the crunch bars and screamed. he tried to retract his foot but the weight of the orb was too great.

i looked down just in time to see the head dislocate it's jaw and expand it's mouth to easily grip the boy's ankle. the grip turned into a bite, and inside of a second or two the head bit clean through. the boy immediately fell to the ground and into shock. the boy trembled as the tiny head expanded just enough to devour him much like a snake swallowing an rat. i can safely say it was probably the most horrific thing i have ever seen. amazingly the volume of the boy was being compressed into the softball sized creature. that sort of explained it's incredible weight.

moments after it's lips closed over the boys scalp, a tongue darted out and cleaned it's lips of any remaining scalp hairs. then the head put it in reverse and rolled back into the house and under the couch. i picked up the box of crunch bars, sat down on the couch and turned on the tv remotely.

man, i love crunch bars.

a few drawings from the sketchbook (color added in photoshop). lately, i have been interested in windows and the interaction of the foreground negative space with what exists beyond the window.

it was tricky climbing the ladder to my roof. the protective pillows i had strapped to my arms and legs some what restricted my range of motion.

this time i was prepared for the leonid meteor shower.

i sat down in the lawn chair i had duct tapped to the shingles earlier in the day. i only put a dozen beers in the cooler so not to impair my meteor sighting abilities on the off chance the big mamba jamba came hurling towards the house.

i donned my old white crash helmet (not a.n.s.i. approved). it was cold, so i placed the space heater next to the lighter fluid and magnesium strips. i took stinkerbell (the cat) from my backpack and placed her on top of the chimney. cats can see in the dark, i thought she might be useful if one landed in the yard and i couldn't find it. i wore a catchers glove on my left hand and i had a fishing net ready to catch anything too big for the mitt. quick movement on the roof required foot wear that would compensate for the pitch of the roof, so i wore a pair of my wife's high heels backwards.

after hours of no sightings, i came back inside. that internet program thing said the leonid shower was last night. oh well, it just means a little extra time to properly prepare for the next shower in 2103.

moving faster than a walk but slower than a run. more importantly, consider the inertia of six feet three and 225 lbs. rounding a blind corner. i felt the soft impact on my shin, but a harder more firm impact just above my knee.

the midget was knocked on her ass. instantly mortified, i felt like Andre the Clumsy Giant. i instinctually reached down with both hands to pick her up by her armpits (my conditioning as the parent of a 3 year old).

luckily before i could embarrass myself further, she popped to her feet as if ejected from a toaster and continued on her was as if nothing ever happened.

no eye contact and no words exchanged (other than the horrific gasp the escaped me when she hit the floor).

an apology, my ignorance is grand. i know "midget" is not politically correct terminology, but i am certain it is better than "little shit".

i wish every day was halloween.

i reached into the darkness under my desk feeling for the zip disk on top of my mac g3 case. my fingers encountered some thing very alien and unexpected.

quick and sudden surprised confusion, like when you take a sip of water expecting it to be milk. not sure what it is, but very sure of what it is not. in the briefest moment your brain recognizes the texture, weight, shape to be very wrong. my fingertips had detected some thing slight, some thing delicate yet brittle.

as i quickly retract my hand, i hear some thing gently but solidly land on the carpet floor. i froze, slightly scared to find out what it was. the creative department is dimly lit to reduce monitor glare. the space under the desks could be used for mushroom farming. i pull the microsoft schwag pen light from my drawer to investigate.

the zip disk is on top of the g3 case. whatever it was dropped behind the g3. half under my desk on hands and knees i flaunt ass crack to anyone who is interested. slowly sweeping the floor with the pen light i catch a glimpse of two bug eyes the size of peas. the flight instinct causes me to smash my head into the underside of my desk. i sat on the floor feeling stupid for scaring so easy. i pull the g4 aside to find a giant dragonfly.

he was magnificent. obviously he had been mounted by some one who knew what they were doing. perfectly preserved with his wings spread perpendicular to his body. it was the largest one i had ever seen, possessing a five inch wingspan. his segmented body was a cool metallic greenish blue. the extra long tail was necessary to offset the weight of the two large spherical eyes. he looked like a super futuristic evil helicopter of some sort.

it has been over two years since i found him. the prankster is yet to reveal himself. such an odd prank. why was the dragon fly mounted in such perfect form?

thanks to witold riedel for reminding me of this story! read about his find!

sometimes i confuse acceptable behavior at home with unacceptable behavior at work.

in preparation for an impending monster yawn, a production artist pushed back from his desk leaned back as far as his chair would allow. arms unfurled, eyes clamped shut, mouth opened wide.

standard protocol at home is to insert your finger in the open mouth and wait for the victim to unknowingly close the mouth and gag on the pranksters finger. usually hilarity ensues and the boys fall over in fits of laughter.

the gaping mouth looked huge to me, like i could fit my whole fist inside. the target was so great and so easy i forgot i was at work. instinctually my fingers curled into a fist, except for one, pointer. pointer stood straight and knew exactly what to do. he leapt forward and dove into the abyss.

contact with pointer and the closing mouth shocked me back to reality. sudden panic. realization i am standing at work with my finger in a co-workers mouth.

not good. soon expecting harassment charges to end my career.

the cats in my mind move quickly
very agile in a small space
circling and leaping
never touching as they pass
constant motion

i stick my pointer finger into her mouth when she yawns.

i used to do this to my cats, they would make an "aack, aack aack" noise. then i tried it on my wife, she makes a very similar noise, but it is much more entertaining.

the line to board my flight moved slowly. slow enough to watch a man be "randomly" selected for a body and bag check. security escorted him to a table only a couple yards away. Security was interested in his carry-on. his carry-on was a steel lock box with a cream colored rubberized coating. he was instructed to open it.

never have i seen this type of box used as a carry-on, very curious was i to know the contents. i thought perhaps a transplant organ of some sort. perhaps some green glowing urainium rods. perhaps stainless steel tubular canisters containing even more curious content.

he took his time finding the keys to the box, almost begging to attract a larger audience. completely engrossed, i would have refused to board the plane till this drama had fully played out.

my view was temporarily blocked, but the voice of security was easily heard. "you sure do like to keep your candy safe, don't you?” i immediately assumed that "candy" must be slang for drugs, or munitions. The line took a step forward. i saw the open box and it's contents.

clark bars and paper clips.

clark bars are probably the least dangerous of all candy bars (now a snickers is something to fear). even from a goodness perspective, clark bars hardly warrant being stored in a lock box. the four boxes of paper clips seem to be standard issue. they were stored in those plastic boxes with the latch so hard to open it usually result in a game of pick-up.

clark bars and paper clips, that was it. not even mcgyver could do anything with clark bars and paper clips. this would be a safe flight.

yesterday i awoke with a small headache that developed into a humdinger. i was well into grump mode by 9 am. about mid day i tried to go outside and enjoy the weather , but the brightness of the sun was magnified to an intolerable level by my headache. back into the house to find a hat that might shade my eyes.

in the closet i found my seven year old green army surplus bucket hat. an all time favorite, that has been missing for 2 years.

i put it on. the headache completely vanished, my mood did a 180. all was right in the world. incredible to me what impact a simple hat (or super ball, or a pop tart, or a new sharpie pen) can have. it really is the simple things.

today upon the invitation of some friends we attended an easter function at their country club. our saturn sl1 had no one to talk to in the parking lot, a mudless land rover and freshly waxed lexus flanked her. The club was packed with people, but no personalities. i saw only one person straying from the color white. he was working the door. silicon and hair plugs seem to be the rage. i watched a woman with really big hair chew out a club employee for accidentally walking between her daughter and her camera . i saw many things there that are supposed to improve my quality of life.

i stood leaning against the wall wishing i had wore my seven year old green army suplus Easter bonnet.