Here's another sneak peek . . .
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
Onward and Upward!
And so it Begins!
. . . again . . .
Layouts for issue #2 are underway by the talented (and sexy), Mr. Benjamin Reid Phillips!
Here's a tease >
. . . again . . .
Layouts for issue #2 are underway by the talented (and sexy), Mr. Benjamin Reid Phillips!
Here's a tease >
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
COMIC CON 2008
PANDORA, INC is now ready for a publishing partner!
The entire first issue is complete. The first three story arcs are complete. We know where we're going and we're ready to go! We'd love to go on the journey with you :
Dark Horse?
Image?
...
Who's gonna take this hottie to prom?
We're at Comic Con all week and ready to make a deal! Let us buy you a drink and let's discuss the next great original title: Pandora, Inc.
---
Interested in a date? Wanna get to know us and see if we're a match made in heaven?
If you represent (or have a connection to) a potential publishing partner - request a pitch pack and full first issue by sending us your name, position, company and contact info to : pandora@innfusion.com
We do put out, you know...
Monday, July 21, 2008
Cover Process - PART 2
Picking up from Ben's previous Cover Process Post . . .
I got the pencils from Ben - and popped it into Adobe Illustrator (Where the entire finish is done) - and started to outline the key shapes and areas with the pen tool.
Then I start to lay in flat colors just to delineate different shapes and planes in the image.
I wanted to make sure I understood where Amy's body was under her armor so I added that in as well to give myself a little better foundation as to where all of her parts :) belong.
All the Flat color is done. I know where everything is.
I start adding gradients to create dimension and define the various planes.
Gradients are mostly done.
Tah Dah! A few more tweaks and a little correction to the blacks and Boom! Look for this bad boy on the shelves soon.
I got the pencils from Ben - and popped it into Adobe Illustrator (Where the entire finish is done) - and started to outline the key shapes and areas with the pen tool.
Then I start to lay in flat colors just to delineate different shapes and planes in the image.
I wanted to make sure I understood where Amy's body was under her armor so I added that in as well to give myself a little better foundation as to where all of her parts :) belong.
All the Flat color is done. I know where everything is.
I start adding gradients to create dimension and define the various planes.
Gradients are mostly done.
Tah Dah! A few more tweaks and a little correction to the blacks and Boom! Look for this bad boy on the shelves soon.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
cover process part one
I start off by composing thumbnails at one by one and half inches with a technical pen, just developing ideas and layouts...This was the one we picked as the best for the cover...
I decided to reverse the image since it worked better as a composition, I then photoshopped the thumbnail up to 10 by 15. With a lightbox I roughed in the layout and then went from there. I've been use a lot of col-erase pencils to do this work recently....
We go back to the lightbox and trace up the rough version onto bristol and use all sorts of different graphite tools to do the finished pencils, note how I've tweaked and adjusted the composition from even the last stage. We revisit this from Eben's end in finishing this in part two...
BRP!
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Isaac and the Fly...or...SuperFly!
He heard it before he even knew it was in the room. You’d have thought he would have heard the buzzing.
But no, it was simply a muted ’thwack’, and the little housefly landed on his desk. Right in the middle of it. Isaac looked down and saw the little black aeronaut, kicking its legs feebly, over on its back, one of its tiny transparent wings split down the middle. Like a sad winter leaf.
Isaac looked around him. None of the other kids had noticed it. He wondered what Ian was doing. He was probably having sex. That’s what his big brother would be doing while he was examing a dying fly in the middle of Advanced Calculus. Some girl would be screaming out his name and he would probably not even remember it.
Isaac extended one long, skinny finger out toward the little fly. It was small, even for what it was. A runt fly.
It buzzed every couple of seconds, skimmed along the surface a few micrometers (how Isaac loved this word) on it’s pathetic little cellophane wing. Isaac made sure none of the kids were looking. His teacher was going on about stuff he’d lost interest in two years ago. And he wasn’t smart enough to teach Isaac what he wanted to know, now. There weren’t any high school teachers that were. Just like there hadn’t been any middle school teachers.
He pushed his finger closer to the little dying black housefly.
Look at it’s tiny brain. How does it think with that? Or better...how does it fly?
Isaac licked the tip of his finger. He wasn’t sure why. He reached out and touched the head of the poor little downed pilot.
And then he was blind. His eyes went white -- or the world did.
Isaac jerked his head back. He opened his mouth to shout but as he did the world hummed back into focus. Went from a universe-eating white nothingness...to shapes...to colors...to the world he knew. He closed his mouth.
The other kids surely saw it. He looked at them. They didn’t look back. They were all either sleeping or zoning out on the monotone wavelength of the teacher’s bored voice.
Before he remembered to look down at the fly he heard the buzzing.
It shot past him, and it left a black streak in the air.
The buzzing was so LOUD now.
A few of the kids were looking, now, too. Trying to find the fly in the air. The teacher stopped talking, suddenly.
"What is that?"
Someone was going to shout ’Bee!’ any second. Isaac was sure of it. Flies just didn’t buzz that loud. Maybe horseflies. But he didn’t think even they. It was as loud as a surprised cicada.
And then he saw it. Streaking toward the window.
He flinched before it happened. Like he was expecting it. Which just simply for God’s sake isn’t possible.
The window shattered. Children screamed. The teacher jumped, his glasses falling off his nose and clattering onto his desk. But it was lost in the sound of the violent shattering. It felt like the sky had busted open.
Isaac watched the fly as it shot across the lawn outside. It was leaving a black line in the air behind it. Like it was drawing on the world.
Isaac closed his eyes. Opened them.
He looked down at his fingers.
Isaac swiveled his head, at the kids, running for cover. Screaming at the cuts they’d received. From the explosion of glass fragments. Calling for their mothers and fathers. Isaac sat completely still. The teacher looked like he thought it was a bomb. Like it was terrorism. His face was begging the world to right itself.
Isaac pushed his fingers into each other, interlocked them, tying them to each other. He looked around. He smiled. For their sakes. To look normal.
And something inside him started to shake.
...the end?
But no, it was simply a muted ’thwack’, and the little housefly landed on his desk. Right in the middle of it. Isaac looked down and saw the little black aeronaut, kicking its legs feebly, over on its back, one of its tiny transparent wings split down the middle. Like a sad winter leaf.
Isaac looked around him. None of the other kids had noticed it. He wondered what Ian was doing. He was probably having sex. That’s what his big brother would be doing while he was examing a dying fly in the middle of Advanced Calculus. Some girl would be screaming out his name and he would probably not even remember it.
Isaac extended one long, skinny finger out toward the little fly. It was small, even for what it was. A runt fly.
It buzzed every couple of seconds, skimmed along the surface a few micrometers (how Isaac loved this word) on it’s pathetic little cellophane wing. Isaac made sure none of the kids were looking. His teacher was going on about stuff he’d lost interest in two years ago. And he wasn’t smart enough to teach Isaac what he wanted to know, now. There weren’t any high school teachers that were. Just like there hadn’t been any middle school teachers.
He pushed his finger closer to the little dying black housefly.
Look at it’s tiny brain. How does it think with that? Or better...how does it fly?
Isaac licked the tip of his finger. He wasn’t sure why. He reached out and touched the head of the poor little downed pilot.
And then he was blind. His eyes went white -- or the world did.
Isaac jerked his head back. He opened his mouth to shout but as he did the world hummed back into focus. Went from a universe-eating white nothingness...to shapes...to colors...to the world he knew. He closed his mouth.
The other kids surely saw it. He looked at them. They didn’t look back. They were all either sleeping or zoning out on the monotone wavelength of the teacher’s bored voice.
Before he remembered to look down at the fly he heard the buzzing.
It shot past him, and it left a black streak in the air.
The buzzing was so LOUD now.
A few of the kids were looking, now, too. Trying to find the fly in the air. The teacher stopped talking, suddenly.
"What is that?"
Someone was going to shout ’Bee!’ any second. Isaac was sure of it. Flies just didn’t buzz that loud. Maybe horseflies. But he didn’t think even they. It was as loud as a surprised cicada.
And then he saw it. Streaking toward the window.
He flinched before it happened. Like he was expecting it. Which just simply for God’s sake isn’t possible.
The window shattered. Children screamed. The teacher jumped, his glasses falling off his nose and clattering onto his desk. But it was lost in the sound of the violent shattering. It felt like the sky had busted open.
Isaac watched the fly as it shot across the lawn outside. It was leaving a black line in the air behind it. Like it was drawing on the world.
Isaac closed his eyes. Opened them.
He looked down at his fingers.
Isaac swiveled his head, at the kids, running for cover. Screaming at the cuts they’d received. From the explosion of glass fragments. Calling for their mothers and fathers. Isaac sat completely still. The teacher looked like he thought it was a bomb. Like it was terrorism. His face was begging the world to right itself.
Isaac pushed his fingers into each other, interlocked them, tying them to each other. He looked around. He smiled. For their sakes. To look normal.
And something inside him started to shake.
...the end?
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
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