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Dec 2012 14

by Nicole Powers

Artist / SG Member Name: Rudy Calheiros / rudycalheiros

Mission Statement: My name is Rudy but I’m not rude…I’m from Brazil, a land that inspires creativity and art. I graduated in publicity, am an ex-rockstar, and want to take over the world. The main goal of my work is to communicate and express my point of view while maintaining a consistent style. My art features characters with a strong personality. I also portray people (specially the strange ones, I love weird people) in different ways.

Medium: Most of my work is done digitally using digital painting and vectors. But I’m also always doodling in my sketchbook with pencil and markers.

Aesthetic: Cartoons of different people with remarkable style.

Notable Achievements: Development illustrations for advertising, personal projects like my cartoon band “The Motherfuckers From Hell” and some publications on blogs.

Why We Should Care: My work is based on real people with their own style and personality. You can always identify with my characters. I like to give them musical features, especially rock & roll.

I Want Me Some: You can contact me via SuicideGirls, my website, and on Facebook. I’m also on Twitter (@rudycalheiros and @motherfuckersfh). More of my work can be viewed on urbanarts.com and motherfuckersfromhell.com.

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Oct 2012 26

A very special super spooky story written by Robert Ropars for SuicideGirls feat. Gogo, Radeo, Milloux, Spliff, Tita, Moxi, and Bradley.


[Gogo in The Twelth]

A black sedan drove slowly down a long, gravel driveway. A group of models was being driven from Chicago’s O’Hare airport to a remote farmhouse ninety minutes southwest of the city. The seven passengers were Suicide Girls: Gogo, Radeo, Milloux, Spliff, Tita, Moxi, and Bradley.

It was late October, and even though it was only dinner time, the sun was already near the horizon about to set. A long summer drought had left the various Autumn Blaze maples lining the long driveway nearly stripped bare of their foliage. A chilly wind blew some of their multicolored leaves across their view, illuminated by the limo’s headlights as they drifted past like spirits.

In the back, the Suicide Girls had now begun to gather their things. Gogo finished a cigarette and flicked it out the window while exhaling. Her breath turned into a smoky whistle as she saw the ancient farmhouse coming into view as the last trees were passed and they turned to approach the front porch.

“So that’s the Bellingham estate?” Gogo looked at Milloux and smiled. “How the hell did you find this place?”

Milloux smiled at her and replied, “I was in Chicago earlier this year and was looking up haunted places for our shoot. This one was remote enough for us, but not too far to get to.”

Radeo looked up from her phone as she finished a text message. “What happened here? You still haven’t told us.”

Milloux smiled and her eyes sparkled as she remembered what she’d read and the plan for the shoot. “No way! Let’s get in and settled first. I’ll share the story soon enough. The owners are letting us stay all night for our Halloween shoot…but they are sure we’ll never make it.”

The girls looked at each other and then the house with nervous smiles. Gogo smiled the broadest, excited at the idea of a scary photo shoot for Halloween. The others were anxious to stretch their legs after the long drive as soon as the limo parked. As the driver got their luggage to the aged porch, Tita and Moxi wandered over to a large tire swing hung from the maple closest to the house, the others ascended the creaky front porch steps.

Around the house was an outhouse, a large well, a silo that towered over them, a decrepit barn and behind all of these things a cornfield stretching to the horizon. As the sun set, it cast everything in bright oranges and reds and soon all would be in darkness. A security light on the barn had already come on illuminating a small area in front of it and two porch lights on either side of the door had also come on in the decreasing light.

As Gogo and Radeo walked over to a very old porch swing that rattled and drifted in a slight breeze, Milloux entered a code for the lock on the front door. The owner had added security after kids had broken in recently, and had set up a temporary number for their visit. The light turned green and she held the door for the driver who brought their things to the foot of a grand staircase. The house smelled dusty and moldy and Milloux pressed a light switch so everyone could see.

As the lights came on, a thunderous crash erupted from the porch. Milloux and the driver rushed out, the other girls stood and laughed at Gogo and Radeo. One end of the porch swing had come loose and they’d crashed. Moxi and Milloux shook their heads, helped them up, and one by one entered the creepy old house.

Milloux took care of the driver and confirmed that he would be back in the morning at 10 AM sharp. He smiled, said goodbye, got in the car, and started back down the long driveway. Bradley and Moxi watched from the front room windows as his tail lights faded from sight. Milloux closed the front door and they heard a loud metallic noise followed by some beeps.

“What was that?” asked Spliff.

Milloux smiled at Spliff who looked a bit jumpy already. “That was the front door locking.”

The others stared at her with a mixture of apprehension and fear. The girls looked down the main hallway to the back of the house, up the stairwell, at the faded and torn wallpaper and frowned at several creepy old portraits lining the wall that led to the second floor.

“Relax, the driver will be back in the morning and we’re shooting all night. Let’s get unpacked and meet in the main room in an hour ok? I brought stuff to eat and we can get our drink on. And I’ll tell you the terrible horror of Edward Bellingham and the ghosts some say still haunt this home. MMUUAAHH HAHA HA!”

“You are such an asshole!” Bradley punched Milloux in the arm and each girl grabbed their bags. Slowly they began to make their way up the creaky wood stairs. Reaching the top landing, they spread out and paired up in various bedrooms. Milloux insisted on being on her own and Moxi watched her carefully placing covered items on the bed. She was going to ask what they were, but knew Milloux had planned a night of fun and games.

Outside, the temperature continued to drop and the wind picked up. The creaking of the trees and the house around them sent shivers up and down most of their spines. Milloux was giddy with anticipation at the night ahead. She had planned that this would be a scarefest of a shoot they would all remember.

***

An hour later, the girls were gathered in the downstairs front room, a large crackling fire was burning, they’d finished eating and the girls were enjoying drinks, smoking, or sipping tea. Milloux stood and all eyes turned to her.

“Ok ladies, we’re going to have so much fun tonight. I’m so excited to be shooting all of you and we have this haunted house as the perfect backdrop. But before we get started, let me tell you the story of the house.”

Lifting her tablet, she began to read from notes she’d prepared for the trip.

“Edward Bellingham came to America with a wife and two girls, Emma and Eliza, in 1832. He had made a decent amount of money in London and sought a new life here in the Midwest. He had this place built and ran a successful farm for many years, but the period before the Civil War brought a new opportunity.

“Many slaves escaped and fled northward, most using the Underground Railroad. There was a hefty bounty for returning slaves to the South, and Bellingham devised a twisted plan. He got word out that his home was a stop on the path to freedom. But those who came down the long driveway to his farmhouse soon regretted the decision.”

Milloux paused dramatically letting her gaze cross the room. All eyes were on her.

“Edward had a tunnel built between the basement of this home and the barn we saw outside. He had his wife bring them food and clothes while he contacted members of the Klan to arrange his bounty. For a few years he managed to convince his wife that the men who took the former slaves away were helping smuggle them north. She discovered the truth one night when she overheard him talking to one of the smugglers and they had a bitter fight.

“As their girls held each other in terror in one of the rooms, the fight raged into the night until Edward lost control. He hit her so hard she fell down the stairs and her neck broke killing her right there.”

All the girls turned to follow Milloux’s finger pointing to the bottom of the stairs. The lights flickered briefly and everyone shifted nervously for a moment until they returned to normal.

“But that wasn’t the worst of his crimes. He kept up his smuggling business until one day a beautiful 15-year old Creole girl knocked on the front door. She had long since lost track of her family, and was trying to find a safe haven. The wealthy widower convinced her that staying as his house maid and nanny was her best option. It wasn’t a hard decision for her.”

The girls stared at Milloux dreading what was next in the story.

“Edward patiently let the girl, her name was Marie, get settled into her life as nanny to his daughters. He seemed like the perfect guardian with only one rule that she never enter his bedroom. One day he was out tending to the fall harvest and Marie was tidying up. For some reason we may never know, curiosity got the better of her and she entered his room.

“At first, nothing seemed out of place or particularly interesting. Then she saw the box on his desk. Made of wood, it had strange symbols carved on it. Opening it she backed away in terror and screamed. Inside was a skull with empty eyes that stared at her. Turning she ran into Edward who was standing behind her. Enraged, he grabbed her and said, ‘I told you never to come in here. You’ve upset my wife!’

“Edward choked her until she passed out and dragged her limp body to the basement. There it’s said he chained her to a wall standing up. She awoke and realized he was building a wall and he ignored her pleas and screams as he positioned brick after brick. When he finished, he could barely hear the sounds of her screams and chains. Even to this day, people hear the rattling of chains and the sounds of scratching if they linger too long in the basement.”

Gogo lit a cigarette and exhaling looked at Milloux with a combination of dread and anticipation. “What happened to his daughters?”

Milloux had an evil twinkle in her eye because she had saved the worst part for last.

“He began to have headaches and nightmares and stopped sleeping. He slowly fell into a pit of despair and became convinced his daughters were communicating with their mom’s and Marie’s spirits. They missed her and cried all the time. He knew they hated him and were plotting against him.”

Milloux paused and took a drink.

“And?” Spliff was on the edge of the tattered couch close to slipping off and falling on the ancient pine floor boards.

“Some say he tied them to scarecrow posts in the cornfield so crows could feast on them. Some say he locked them in the silo and filled it while they screamed for help choking on the dust. But some say there was plenty of room in the basement for two little girls. Nobody knows for sure, but it’s said their spirits still linger here.

“Edward slowly went insane alone with the sounds of the four women his only company. Finally, one night he ran screaming into the night and fell down the well outside to his death.”

Milloux put down her tablet computer and sat by Bradley on a chair and played with her hair.

“Wow…you really are full of shit!”

Milloux looked at Tita in surprise.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Tita looked at the others and then back at her.

“You made at least half of that up. Total bullshit.”

Bang! Upstairs, a door had slammed shut and the girls jumped and screamed in unison. Some looked really nervous while others laughed, though some of them nervously so.

“Girls it was just the wind. It’s an old place and full of gaps for the wind to get through.” Moxi did her best to reassure herself as much as the others. Then they heard a sound. Faint at first, it sounded like girls crying faintly on the second floor. Their eyes widened and they shivered. It stopped almost as suddenly as it had begun.

“That was the wind right?” Tita had a look of confusion and fear now doubting herself about Milloux’s story.

“Well I have a brand new app for us to try out some ghost hunting and seems like the spirits are ready to play.”

An app? For ghosts?” Radeo eyed Milloux skeptically.

“Girls listen. Phones and tablets have cameras, compasses, gyroscopes, decibel meters, magnetometers, and all kinds of other sensors. We’ve all watched ghost hunter shows right?”

Most nodded remembered various reality series featuring people using all manner of gadgets to detect the paranormal.

“This app called ‘Ghostdar’ just pulls all of that together to measure changes in electromagnetic energy and such to sense when spirits may be near and how strong. Let’s try it out.”

Milloux lifted the tablet, launched the app and her face was illuminated in a green glow. Holding it up, she focused the rear camera on the stairwell and moved it up and down and then held it above her focused on the ceiling. The others ducked down to look and they saw the ceiling with an infrared view, a moving radar animation over it and all manner of numbers cycling around the screen.

“Seriously? That’s crap…”

Before Moxi could finish her thought, two green lights appeared above them and began to move around the upper area. Their eyes were wide and no one spoke.

“Sad.”

The app spoke a word that also appeared on the screen before fading away.

Gogo exhaled smoke and said, “What was that?”

“The app analyzes the energy of the spirits and tries to translate their attempts to communicate. Sometimes you get lucky and words come through.”

As they spoke, the lights faded away. They waited a few more minutes and nothing else appeared. Milloux brought the app down and when it was eye level she jumped and let out a gasp. Several of the others screamed, having moved behind her, they all saw the ghost at the same moment. Standing at the bottom of the stairs was a woman with her neck bent to one side. She said nothing, slowly turned and drifted down the hall passing out of sight. Her strong red radar contact however continued on behind the wall and stopped before the kitchen.

They were all shaking as they heard the sound of metal and then wood creaking. The radar contact faded to green and vanished.

“Dark.”

The app spoke aloud again. Then they heard something, faint at first, then louder the sound of chains rattling from the basement. Milloux lowered the tablet and swept the floor and in the far corner of the house a red contact appeared.

“It’s Marie! The spirits want us to find her. Maybe if we find her, she can move on. Come on girls!”

“No fucking way!” Bradley looked at the others and back at Milloux. “No fucking way I’m going down there.”

Milloux scowled at her. “That’s fine. You can stay up here by yourself and keep an eye on things.”

Bradley scowled at her.

“We’ll all be together that’s the key. I’ve got the app and it has built-in video and sound recorders. Let’s go.”

Milloux led the way to and down the hall toward the kitchen screen held in front of her. She paused when she realized that the door to the basement was opened a few inches. She continued with the girls close behind and the floor boards creaked as did the walls around them and trees outside in the chilly October night.

Milloux reached out and pulled the door fully open. The hinges were extremely rusty and it was very noisy. Seeing a light switch to her left, she flicked it on and they saw a long wooden staircase, the steps open to the space behind them leading into darkness. It appeared that another light was on further onward, but the darkness fought against the light pools making it hard to see clearly. The lights flickered and they could now more clearly hear the sound of chains and something else that sounded like scratching.

Slowly, the nervous and giggling group started down the dusty, creaky stairs. The wind that howled above and the roof that rattled began to be muffled by the basement walls. Milloux reached the bottom and turned and as they gathered behind her, the saw a large red contact in the far corner currently in darkness.

“Ok girls, let’s get…”

Bang! The door at the top of the stairs slammed shut and they screamed as they spun around. Milloux held the tablet up, but didn’t see any ghost contacts above them.

“It’s ok, stupid drafty hous…”

At that moment, before Milloux could finish her thought there was a crackling sound like static electricity and the lights flickered. The basement was a big space filled in every direction with boxes, furniture, and all manner of debris. There were walkways through the mounds leading to the far wall and two lights hung flickering along the path.

“Let’s keep going. That’s got to be Marie back there.”

“Ok I’m going to try and speak to the spirits so everyone be quiet. Marie? We mean you know harm. We are here as friends and want to do some photos here.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Moxi asked through chattering teeth. Whether the cold, the fear or both caused the rattling even she was unsure.

They were now halfway towards the back wall. The rattling and scratching sounds were louder and now they heard a woman weeping.

“Trapped.”

The girls stopped.

“It’s her?” Gogo asked as the word faded.

“It has to be. She’s trapped and we can free her. Isn’t this exciting?”

Before anyone could respond, a floor board creaked upstairs sending a small shower of dust downward.

“Oh my god, what the fuck?” Spliff adjusted her glasses as she and the others looked up at the wood boards above. Milloux held up the tablet, and now a large red contact was above them slowly moving through the house. It faded to green and disappeared quickly.

“Spirits of this house, we are here as friends. We want to help you and learn from you.”

Only silence. Milloux got them moving again and now they were nearly three quarters of the way to the back wall. The red light ahead of them faded and the sounds of weeping, scratching and rattling ceased. Milloux scanned the back area and found no more contacts.

“Wreath…”

“Why the hell did it say that?” Moxi asked.

“Sometimes the words aren’t clear to the app I think.”

“You think?” Gogo was getting angry and scared at the same time.

“Wreath…”

“Why did it say it again?” Radeo was now terrified and the repeated odd word wasn’t helping matters.

Milloux looked concerned for the first time and wasn’t sure what to do.

“Maybe we should…”

Behind and above them, the door at the top of the stairs slowly creaked open. They heard a single footstep, then another on the creaky steps. A heavy, unseen set of feet slowly descended into the basement. At the same time, the lights began to flicker and with a pop went out leaving them in darkness save for the tablet glow.

The girls stood frozen in terror, momentarily blinded as their eyes adjusted to the sudden inky blackness. Slowly, Milloux raised the tablet to the stairs. Their eyes widened as they saw a bright red contact over a man who stood staring at them in old fashioned clothes. His eyes were completely black.

“Wreath…”

“Who the fuck is that and why does it keep saying ‘Wreath?’” Radeo was shaking and her words were uneven.

“It’s Edward. And it’s not getting the word right maybe.” She paused and said, “Is that you Edward? We mean you no harm. What are you trying to tell us?”

The man’s right hand lifted and he pointed at them and disappeared. The radar beeped and a large red contact appeared behind them. Milloux and the girls spun around and as the tablet focus its infrared view they saw Edward right behind them, empty black eye sockets gaping and his hands came up quickly towards them.

“Wrath.”

As the app translated the spirit’s voice, Milloux dropped it. The tablet shattered on the cold stone floor. Darkness and panic were followed by screams and silence.

THE END


Robert Ropars is a Chicago based horror author, liberal/progressive, Doctor Who fanatic and bullying surTHRIVEor. You can get more of him on Kindle and Nook. For more, visit his WordPress Library.

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Oct 2012 26

by Nahp

A column which highlights Suicide Girls and their fave groups.


[Mindi Suicide in Love In The Woods]

This week Mindi tell us why she loves getting Crafty.

Members: 1,418 / Comments: 13,131

WHY DO YOU LOVE IT?: I love to do things with my hands and I’m soooo crafty. I’m always thinking about what new stuff I could make. I make bags, and love decorating shoes and drawing stuff.

DISCUSSION TIP: It doesn’t matter if you are an expert or a beginner, all you need is to love using your hands!

MOST HEATED DISCUSSION THREAD: There isn’t heated thread!! This is a group full of creativity, and everyone loves that!

BEST RANDOM QUOTE: “Keep laughing darling and don’t let the bastards wear you down.”

WHO’S WELCOME TO JOIN?: Everyone who knows how to make stuff and wants to show others how to do it and everyone who wants to learn how to make stuff!

[..]

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Oct 2012 24

by Blogbot

Artist / SG Member Name: Odio_One a.k.a. Sean Moore, Thotskee, Seantheflashguy, sSeantheflexguy, Rest, and Sink.



Mission Statement: To purvey the beauty in life through creative expression. To visually express the dichotomy, hypocrisy, contradiction and irony of life through juxtaposition. To expose the hidden and true beauty that’s shrouded by fabrication and facade. To continue doing the next right thing for the right reason. To be honest, remain open-minded and remain humble, always. To be present and mindful. To enjoy my time on this earth. I don’t take shit from anyone, ever, for any reason. SuicideGirls’ purpose, meaning and delivery are an amazing source of inspiration that I have great respect for.

Medium: Acrylic, aerosol, graphite, illustration markers, Prismacolor colored pencils, traditional calligraphy tools, ink (straight up or in various pens/markers), Montana Paint markers, walls, paper, canvases, canvas boards, found objects, Illustrator, Photoshop, Flash, SuicideGirls.



Aesthetic: Beauty doesn’t fit into a box. No one should force feed some vision of beauty on anyone else. It should be left for the individual to seek and come to understand in their own time and along their own path. 


Notable Achievements: Being asked to submit my artwork to this website. Creating one of the first, legit graffiti and underground hip-hop websites. Getting my artwork into a gallery.



Why We Should Care: My work is current, original, controversial, refined and urban. Some of it resembles a murder scene, some of it is graffiti, some of it is calligraphy, some of it is what I call “rage art,” inspired by one of my therapists. A lot of my art contains the unmatched beauty of various women on this website. All of my art is inspired by intense, deep emotions. I’ve lived an interesting life, to say the least. It’s truly a miracle I’m still alive…I’ll leave it at that.



I Want Me Some: Some of my work is in the art gallery at Blick until the end of October.You can see it there. I also just got an Etsy account set up and some of my work is available for sale on it. I’ve also worked as a logo, website and print designer in addition to doing illustration work. If anyone has the need for custom, urban style illustration or design work feel free to get in touch.
Endless thank you’s for presenting my work on this website. It’s truly an honor. Shout out to the small handful of people who’ve supported my artwork. It really means a lot and you all have my love and support. For more info visit: odioone.com

[..]

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Oct 2012 15

by Blogbot


[Syko Suicide in Strapped]

Artist / SG Member Name: Sarah Syko a.k.a. Syko SUicide

Mission Statement: “Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world!” I spent a lot of my time growing up being grounded, which meant I spent a lot of time in my room with my paints and a sewing machine. Got away from my painting for a bit but moved to Colorado last year and I cant stop, and I am way happier with my art than ever before!

Medium: Very mixed media, acrylic, anything I can get my hands on really

Aesthetic: People, colors, abstract, sex, GIRLS! GIRLS! GIRLS! Anything and everything I feel.

Notable Achievements: Did my first live painting recently and I have my first art show this month in Denver.

Why We Should Care: My work is very personal and passionate. My art shows the world more about me than they can understand or I can even explain. I like to take my time with my art, and work on my paintings over multiple sessions and different emotions.

I Want Me Some: No online sales yet but having my first art show, with work available this month! Feel free to message me if you are interested in my work. I will do request paintings if I like the idea. I usually just give my work to friends and family to always keep them close to me but I just sold my first painting and am ready to let a few more of my babies go now.

[..]

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Sep 2012 13

by Aaron Colter

Wild Children by Ales Kot and Riley Rossmo is one of the bolder comic releases of late. With an industry still stuck in rehashing old characters and making blockbuster movies, Image Comics has given two independent creators the opportunity to publish a graphic novella that is equal parts teenage rebellion and conceptual reality.

SuicideGirls reached out to the creators to talk about the inspiration behind the book, since any review of it would contain spoilers. If you’ve already read Wild Children, this should give you some insight into the creative process behind the title. If you haven’t, don’t worry. This interview should give you enough reason to check it out soon at your local comics shop.

Aaron Colter: Ales, what made you want to write a book like this?

Ales Kot: About twenty different things, really. As with almost everything, the origin of Wild Children can be traced to my childhood. My parents led me to question authority and desire to understand things as they truly are, and not just as they are presented. I took it a bit further than my parents expected. I loved school in the beginning, but the overall atmosphere of it quickly unfolded itself as a prison-like structure created to build docile citizens that would perpetuate the already dead dream of capitalism and infinite growth. Pair that up with the messy divorce my parents went through when I was about ten, and I quickly realized things were much more complex than the teachers were saying. So I began questioning them, first with an honest interest, and then eventually just to piss them off, because being nice never got me anywhere with them – except for the few that were at least partially aware of the absurdity of the system they were both facing and keeping alive.

AC: Riley, what made you want to draw this story?

Riley Rossmo: Young people get often painted poorly in the media – either as violent geek shut-ins about to snap, or nymphomaniac cheerleaders. But the range is so much greater. Young people can be brilliant, well-intentioned individuals. Wild Children addresses some of that, it doesn’t fall back on typical teen archetypes.

AC: Following the tragedies in Colorado and Wisconsin, are you worried that Wild Children will be seen as insensitive or promoting violence?

AK: Not at all. Wild Children is not a cheap army propaganda-style FPS like Call of Duty. Ultimately, it will be whatever people decide to see it as, but that’s beyond my reach. The intent is not there, and we don’t care about cheap sensationalism, although the comic kind of invites it.

Anyone who uses fiction as a crux when explaining their own stupid decisions — “The Devil in the Comic/Game/Movie/Music Made Me Do It” is a person that needs therapy, and lots of love and patience. Anyone who supports that logic will likely require the same.

AC: Were you both rebellious kids? Did you get in trouble in school a lot?

RR: Yup. I couldn’t handle people telling what to do without giving me a reason. I loved reading, so I’d read all the assigned books, but thought it was a huge waste of time to regurgitate my thoughts in essay form. I was pretty angry – mostly I would skip class, go to the arcade and play video games or paint, draw or silk screen. I had a couple great art teachers that would let me do art in their classes, even though I was skipping other classes to be there. I liked girls – they were probably the biggest draw. And it was the best place to go to when you wanted to acquire anything illegal. Very little learning happened in the class.

AK: Yeah, once I hit a certain age, I definitely did my best to get in as much trouble as possible. It’s not that I wanted the trouble – I just wanted to show that I didn’t care for the fake rules and spineless non-authorities, and that they wouldn’t put me down. A history teacher once gave me a verbal test in front of the entire class because she suspected I was off my tits, and I got B+, although I should have gotten an A. Nearly everyone in the class knew about my state, so it’s still one of my fondest memories. Apart from that, I skipped school a lot, first because I simply hated it and was bullied, later because I just wanted to hang out with girls or read somewhere quiet on my own. I remember a school where some schoolmates used to do speed off the toilet boards, sex in class, things on fire…the first time I had a gun pointed at me was in front of the first school I went to. So I guess there was some trouble, yes.

AC: Are either of you familiar with the concept of brain-hacks? Essentially tricks to shape your reality. A new book called D.I.Y. Magic by Anthony Alvarado touches on some of these notions. I ask because Wild Children talks of magic. Are either of you interested in magic on any sort of level?

RR: I love magic. I like street magic, metaphysics, performers that use misdirection in new ways. I think there’s a lot more out there than I can conceive of. There’s so much in the world that can’t quite be coincidence, or chance.

AK: Oh, absolutely. I hack my brain – more accurately, my entire being – and Wild Children is definitely a brain hack, or at least an honest attempt at one. I meditate, explore reality, observe how my mind shapes it, do my best to learn as much as I can and then implement all the new tricks into my daily life. I haven’t heard of D.I.Y. Magic, but I’m going to read it now. I’m currently reading Colin Wilson’s The Occult for the first time and it’s a crucial experience. I don’t think there’s any difference between what we call magic and what we call science. It’s just about seeing the hidden strings and learning how to operate them. Words and pictures are some of the strongest magical/scientific properties in our daily arsenal, because they shape the reality we live in to an uncanny extent. And, as Harvey Pekar said, you can do anything with words and pictures…Magic. It’s fun. Take it seriously. Like it’s science. Because it is. Just work to see the hidden threads.

AC: The notion of comics being a separate reality or a meta-world within a world that we create is something that’s very Grant Morrison in ways that resemble his work The Filth and even concepts in The Invisibles. What other comics inspired this project?

AK: Kill Your Boyfriend by Grant Morrison and Philip Bond – a great story about teenage revolt that I loved as a kid. It’s very similar to Badlands and Natural Born Killers, it’s angry, it’s fresh, it’s short, and it packs a punch. I loved that comic, and it came out in the same format as Wild Children – a short graphic novella. I also thought about Shoot, the long-unreleased Hellblazer story about school shootings that DC Entertainment shelved back in the day because it was about to be released just as Columbine shootings happened. I disagreed with that decision – the comic wasn’t sensationalist at all, and it had some important things to say. When I conceived of Wild Children, I wanted to combine these two comic books into a new one, into a graphic novella that would feel truly 2012 while paying its respects to the stories that influenced its birth. Casanova and the brave way it approaches itself and the medium. Asterios Polyp for some of the more theoretical stuff in the middle. John Smith’s writing influenced the ending. Graphic novellas by Alan Moore, Warren Ellis and their collaborators. There are some nods to Frank Miller’s early work in the beginning. Dash Shaw’s work. Matt Seneca’s webcomix – I love Affected – and his comics theory as well.

The inspiration related to Wild Children hit from many different sources. Filmmakers like Cronenberg, Lynch, Godard, Kubrick and Tarkovsky were instrumental in forming my approach early on, and they still influence me a lot. Music by Flying Lotus, Fuck Buttons, Pictureplane, Aphex Twin, DJ Rupture, Kode 9, Burial, Coil, early Marilyn Manson. Al Columbia’s art, anything Brandon Graham does. Books by Hakim Bey, Robert Anton Wilson, Kenji Siratori, Jorge Luis Borges, P.K. Dick, Douglas Rushkoff and others. Some of the ideas in Rushkoff’s Life, Inc. influenced Wild Children quite directly.

AC: Something else that comes across in the book is that all of the adults seem threatened by teenagers, who are, for the most part, harmless on a large scale. Do you think society is afraid of teenagers in real life? If so, why?

AK: It’s quite clear that some parts of our society are afraid of teenagers in real life, yes. People who are shriveled inside, whether they’re physically young or old, forget to question things, and live in their temporary sand castles, often doing everything they can to keep them standing, regardless of how much harm that imposes on everyone and everything else. The teenagers inevitably belong to our society, and it’s often quite impossible to destroy their idealistic energy right away.

It’s not exactly correct to say that only young people push things forward – it’s people with a young attitude, wanting to learn, to discover the world, be in awe of the universe, that make the world a better place to live, and help us all evolve. But we’re often taught to expect the worst – 31% of Americans are likely to suffer from an anxiety problem at some point during their lifetimes – and when we’re worried or downright scared, rules make us feel safer, however temporary that illusory safety is. And rules are, by and large, something the new generations seems to have less and less use for. “Chaos is evil, rules are good.” is an excruciatingly stale narrative. The world is much more complex. Question everything.

AC: As bad as our generation may have it, there may be less opportunities for those just now starting to grow up. Why do you think more students in America don’t demand access to education in the same way students in other countries have?

AK: Because they don’t believe in the system, perhaps? I’m genuinely not sure if I can answer this question well enough, but I’ll do my best. I imagine that a huge part of it is the fact that we’re observing the collapse of capitalism, and whether we want to acknowledge it or not, we know that’s what’s happening. We’re offered a choice between a guy that believes that corporations are people, supports penalties for doctors who perform abortions, won’t release his tax returns and most likely would perform fellatio on a pig for a nickel, or a guy that supports extraordinary rendition, secret kill lists and illegal spying on the people he swore to serve and protect.

AC: If you could give you teenage self one piece of advice, what would it be?

RR: Make more art, and let your anger go.

AK: Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law. Wink, wink, wank.

For more information visit:
aleskot.com/
rileyrossmo.com/
imagecomics.com/

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Sep 2012 04

by Blogbot


[SaintKitten in Cute Moustache]

Artist / SG Member Name: Carolina Montoya a.k.a. SG Hopeful SaintKitten

Mission Statement: Some of the things I do are inspired by weird dreams I have, so there’s no common meaning. I’m working on a project about how tattoos are a physical introduction to the person that has them. I guess everything that I’ve been doing lately has an element of that. For instance, I love classical paintings and sculptures, and you can tell by some of my own paintings and tattoos that I do. 



Medium: My favorite it’s definitely oil. But I also love to try new things, and mix them up. I’ve done some watercolors as well, but I will always return to oil.

 (I’m also a tattoo artist, and as such, my medium is ink in skin.)

Aesthetic: Finding my own style has been an issue for me, so I’ve tried pretty much everything I think it’s possible to. I’ve even done a few “Buffay’s” (you’ll get it if you ‘re a Friends fan). But I have to say realistic drawings and paintings are my thing.


Notable Achievements: Notable? Not yet. Personal achievements? Yes, everyday! I try really hard to get better day by day, and I’m proud of a few things I’ve done, but I have to say to be in the place I want to be I’ve still got a lot of stuff to discover and learn.



Why We Should Care: You should care because I’m just like most of you. It’s not easy for me to buy cool stuff, or wear nice clothes, and most of the time I give away my work. What I really want with my work is that people can relate to it, and the only way of making that possible is that my work is seen. 



I Want Me Some: You can contact me via SG or on Facebook.

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