Secret Still

Today can’t be all about colors to fight the blues (pun entirely intended), because sometimes black and white is just as good. Honestly, badass things are badass regardless of their hues, just look at badass ghosts. And cocaine. And Nicolas Delort’s ink on clayboard works, which are all hatched and re-hatched and so ultimately badass like a ghost on a shitload of cocaine. I mean damn, France, can you just stop producing great artists already? Leave some room for the rest of us. But do keep up the good work with your cheeses. I will definitely take all the cheeses you have, and yes, buy some art from all your great artists. I’m a little short on cash right now, but I do have some coked up ghosts I can trade you. They’re pretty badass.

Nicolas Delort

Long time favorite Lydia Nichols (mentioned previously) dashed across my radar today and, in keeping with art to counteract the weather being a total dickwad, I am now going to blast you in the face with her delightful and charming new works. She’s put a lot of miles and lots of projects behind her since the last time we visited, and she has continued to be completely excellent in all ways. I knew her design mojo was too powerful even for me when I realized that she had made me want to try kombucha and wine, two things I generally associate with people I want to headbutt into the sun. I would shake my fist in rage at you, Lydia, if I wasn’t so busy trying to find ways to shove money into the hands of anyone that uses your designs for their products.

Lydia Nichols

Some days I choose artists that coincide with the weather and my feels, and other days I choose those that are the exact opposite to try and coax myself in another direction. It’s kind of like trying to steer a giant ship by sticking my finger in the water, but something being pointless has never stopped me from trying it. So, in an effort to battle today’s overcast sullenness, I am jamming my whole damn hand in the water and paddling like mad. The ship might not turn, but I do get some pleasant splashing done. The first splash goes to Daniel Krall who’s style is a little rough, a lot playful, and pretty much perfect. Each illustration is so well thought out in terms of composition and color, and it’s fun to see those choices there on the screen. Krall is a talented boxer jabbing away at my eyes, driving his themes into my retinas while I excitedly flail around. Hmm, maybe the boat metaphor was better. Or maybe one about boats that are boxing. Nope, too weird, I’m done.

Daniel Krall

Teasing me with her

Negative space smooth lines

I could stare all day

Soey Milk

I have spent the better part of a day pouring over the clever maps of Andrew DeGraff, and simultaneously reliving some pivotal moments of my childhood. DeGraff has created works of art that track the paths of characters through the Indiana Jones and Star Wars films. Beyond their cleverness and beauty, the real magic of these maps is that they follow something deeper and more meaningful than just actors in a film; they bounce around to all the emotions I felt as a kid watching those movies. I can feel my hands clench as something daring and exciting happens, and I’d say that speaks highly to both the movie and the artwork. Here’s a film saga that was so real to me as a child that it still resonates with me on an emotional level when I relive it. And here’s a map that’s so accurate and intuitive that I can’t help but relive each scene of my favorite films. Andrew DeGraff, I am high-fiving you so hard right now.

Andrew DeGraff

On days like today, when it’s cold and rainy outside, I like to surround myself with things that are soft around the edges. If I didn’t have to come to the office, I would be at home, swaddled in blankets, watching cartoons with a chubby dog snoring across my legs, slowly cutting off my circulation. With that not being an option, I instead have to find those soft edges elsewhere, like in the work of Adam Tan. Don’t mistake soft edges for soft, however. His subjects aren’t necessarily soft, just his style. Soft shapes, soft colors, a modern illustration style topped off with a touch of Impressionism. Like a jangly, lo-fi pop ballad about having your heart broken. The edges are soft, and so is the delivery, but the subject matter is a sharp shot right in the feelings. Perfect for a rainy day to keep me calm but alert — heart beat steady, but mind on fire.

Adam Tan

I leave you today with something less wistful, and more along the lines of badass and incredibly fun. Paul Robertson makes bitified art that gets my gaming thumbs all itchy, and he throws in a healthy dose of boobs for good measure. This is the ADD heaven I dreamed about as a thirteen year-old.

Paul Robertson

You know how in most movies there are establishing shots of whatever environment the scene takes place in, just to let you know, “hey, we’re in a desert,” or “this is a small town”? I feel like Daniel Danger is illustrating the establishing shots for Edward Gorey’s home movies. Using a simple color palette, a lot of empty space, and solitary figures, Danger manages to convey that creepy feeling you get when you’ve been walking by yourself down a street at 3am and you cross into a section that has no streetlights. What was once pleasant has now become terrifying and unknown. The word you’re looking for is “eerie”, but you probably won’t think of it before the teeth in the darkness tear your throat out.

Daniel Danger

Summer is built on slow moving mysteries and colors that laze all dazzling in your eyes. You don’t need to understand your life in the Summer, you just need to brush the grass out of your hair sometimes and maybe find a shady spot when the sky has held you too close. Summer is made of whispers that seem to last forever and join together into the susurrus of the breeze curling between the leaves. Henry McCausland makes the art of Summer, drink it down and cool yourself off.

Henry McCausland

Keywords for your magical journey down the dusty road of Summer with Stevie Gee: surfing, native american, girls, speedos, sunglasses, pizza, freakout. Enjoy the ride.

Stevie Gee