DISASTER!

I'm not typically one of those guys who looks at a thing he's never done before and says, "Oh, yeah! I can do that! Bring it on!" I might say that, but when faced with actually doing it, I almost always back out, and it's served me well for thirty-three years. But at some point in the last two days I developed an over-inflated sense of self-confidence. I decided, having never done, seen, or read any detailed instructions on how to do so, to install a pedestal sink in our 1/2 bath.

This is the result...

That is the friendly Carl Clean-Up (not really). He comes around with industrial-sized blowers and dehumidifiers when some know-it-all jack-hole breaks a hose while trying to shut off the water, flooding his entire basement as a result. In this photo we can see Carl taping plastic over the doorway into what was once our very adequate downstairs bathroom. He has to cover the door because the bathroom no longer has a floor. Well, it has a floor, but if you step on it there's a very real possibility that you could find yourself taking an abrupt and unexpected trip to the basement where you'll more than likely land in something wet. While you're in the basement please note that a number of ceiling tiles are missing. Don't be alarmed. They were simply washed away in the flood that rained down from the bathroom.

The greatest and most upsetting casualty of this most recent home-improvement debacle was Betsy's craft room. The total extent of the damage has yet to be determined, but several hundred photos were saturated and quite a lot of very well organized crafting materials were dampened. Also, we discovered that something is living in one of the walls. It sounds like it wants out. Hooray.

Thank you,
      Matt Beers

It's Halloween! Let's all go worship Satan!

When I was growing up (which I mean to finish doing eventually) we didn't do Halloween. We lived way the eff out in the middle of nowhere (14010 North County Line Road, Spencerville, Indiana... Punch it up on Google Earth and you'll see what I mean...) and my mom was a bit of a religious zealot, and, as we all know, dressing up like an astronaut would have made my soul vulnerable to all sorts of demons and the like. And somehow I've managed to avoid being bitter about it.

When I was twenty-two I carved my first pumpkin. It was okay. It was sort of like a smiling skull-thingy with a mohawk of nails and screws.

Here are a few that I've done since then:

I feel a little silly about my pumpkins sometimes. First, because it seems very childish to put so much thought and effort into a pumpkin and, second, because there are so many people out there doing a much better job than I.

Anyway, go out there and score some candy. I'll be doing the same.

(NOTE: I do not, in any way, condone Satan worship.)

Thank you,
      Matt Beers

The old ways are the best ways. Mainly because the new ways are way too expensive.

I'm churning an idea about in my head which has kind of stuffed all of my other creative ideas into the dark corners of my brain. My day spent among the nerds (Comic Con) has re-ignited the long dormant flame of desire which once burned brightly in my chest cavity. I want to make a comic book.

Here's the cover, which is all I have so far.

 

Good, no? I totally traced it. Most comic book artists do that. 

That's probably not true.

I'm about crapping myself dry wanting to get out of this house and into the next one. I had this brilliant idea today that I would find an old mimeograph machine and an old printing press and I would learn how to do screen-printing. I can't exactly do any of those things right now because I understand that they are kind of messy endeavors and messy isn't what you want your house to be when you're trying to sell it. So my fruitless ambition will have to wait a while longer.

Thank you,

      Matt Beers

The hammer and saw inspire such awe.

The contest ends tomorrow, people, and it looks like none of you will be getting a shirt at this pace. My followers are up to thirty, but as there have been no referral claims made, I can only assume that these new followers are the result of my own pathetic and self-pitying pleas for attention.

Moving on...

Six years ago I assembled a cheap wooden swing-set in our backyard. Every year since, it has threatened to fall over unless fastidiously maintained. A few years ago I added several extra boards in the hopes that it would strengthen the structure. It totally worked. But gravity works better and the structure is sagging once more.

My new plan is this: cover the sand box with a deck-like surface (I flippin' HATE the sand box) and add low walls to create a breezy clubhouse, move the climbing wall to one end to help prop the dangerously leaning upper level and place the utterly useless slide on the side where it can't do any more damage. Add additional support wherever possible and, perhaps, add an additional set of monkey bars to one end.

"What are your carpentry credentials," you ask? None. "How do you know this will work?" I'll just keep adding wood until it becomes physically impossible for the structure to fall over. How can it NOT work? "What if someone gets hurt?" What if you stop asking questions and do something helpful?

Thank you,
      Matt Beers

Textile design isn't just for textile designers anymore.

I have a new favorite thing in the world. I don't really know what it's called, but what you do is this:

Take a shirt, old or new, or any piece of fabric, and lay it over the opening of a cup. Secure it with a rubber band so you have something that resembles a tiny drum. Next, take some colored Sharpies and make a simple design. Then, using an eye-dropper, place a few drops of rubbing alcohol on the design. The rubbing alcohol causes the Sharpie ink to bleed outward in a widening circle. Now, you can experiment with shapes and colors and make all sorts of amazing designs.

I used a white t-shirt and my plan is to cut it down and sew it into a pillow. This is what I've got so far:

That's some awe, right there. You might even say that it's "awesome." Go ahead. Say it. Awe. Some.

Thank you,
      Matt Beers

A very creative day...

Blogger has recently added some new design options to the website. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm partial to my black background. So, for the time being, I'll ignore these new design options.

In further creative news, I did some photographing of the out of doors of the house today. And that sentence, no matter how awkward, shall remain as is. Here are some of the photos I managed to extract from the world.
















And I reposted, I think I did, anyway, a blog posting from one of the people in my "Nogs of Bloat" section. It was all about boxes decorated to look like people. Well, I made one of those little box people and I decided to make it look like myself, as I'm really the only person I can draw. Here it is.


Thank you,
Matt Beers

If ADD and a lot of extra time hooked up and had a baby, it would be a Super Book.

I don't have much time. I'm running low on battery juice and my laptop is about to put itself to sleep.

Here goes...


I'm busy making Super Books. I just made one, my favorite to date, I think, called "Robots of the World." I used an old National Geographic map and folded and tore until I had a bunch of pieces that were just the right size...

By the way, 500 Days of Summer is playing in the next room. I can't see it very well, but I can hear it and it sounds very decent. You should watch it. Back to work!

... and then I drew a variety of robots and glued them onto the pages. Then I put it all together in the right order and stitched up the binding. Voila! A Super Book!


Here are some other Super Books I've done in the past.




And on the off-chance you have a bunch of old maps lying around and you don't know what to do with them and you can't bring yourself to throw them away, try this:


Gotta go. My "Check Engine Soon" light just came on.

Thanks,
Matt Beers

Tid-bit!

I sometimes make tiny books that I call "Super Books," (not to be confused with the cartoon of the same name)and I think I might be on to something brilliant.

Super Books are one-fourth the size of a Post-it Note, hand-drawn, independently published, and, should a person choose to read a Super Book, they require no more brain power than is needed to pour a bowl of cereal. All of those features coupled with the undeniable collectible quality of my Super Books make them the perfect gift for any occasion.

I like tiny, handmade things. They make me feel all gooey inside. They fill me with goo.

In that very spirit of goo-filled tininess, here is a supra-wicked-cool post by one of the few blogs I follow. *CLICK!*

If you have any other tiny, handmade ideas, please tell me about them. I get bored easily and if I don't have something to do, I might hurt someone.

Thank you,
Matt Beers