It’s pachanga time!
Here goes a preview of the artwork for a flyer (and poster) I’m working on. It’s a freehand drawing inspired by Mexican folk art, especially the classic decorated calaveras (skulls) you can find during the Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), and the ones drawn by Mexican illustrator José Guadalupe Posada. The graphic design and lettering are also inspired by chalkboard art.
Pachanga is a kind of music originally developed in Cuba by the end of the ’50s as a mix of Son Montuno and Merengue, characterized by cheerful rhythms, besides funny and puckish lyrics. After Fidel Castro raised into power, the Cuban music panorama started to lean more towards other islands and the USA. Ernesto “Che” Guevara once said about the Cuban revolution: «This is a socialism with pachanga!».
The name is also a synonymous for big party or fiesta, like the good ones with music and alcohol for dancing and drinking!
What to say when the only non-painful part of your body is the elbow?
One of Indiana Jones’ most classic lines comes from Riders Of The Lost Ark: after Marion’s comment about Indy’s bad look («You’re not the man I knew ten years ago»), he replies with the iconic «It’s not the years, it’s the mileage». A quote almost impossible to recycle in real life, but perfect for playing a little bit with lettering and graphic elements inspired by vintage labels, old maps, and nautical cartography.
Give me a L.C. afterworld, so I can sigh eternally.
This brand new illustration is a tribute to the great writer, poet, artist, songwriter, musician, and singer Leonard Norman Cohen, a.k.a. Jikan Eliezer (September 21, 1934 – November 7, 2016). It’s a drawing inspired by the song Famous Blue Raincoat, which appeared inside the Songs Of Love And Hate (1971) album.
Here are the lyrics of the song, in the form of a letter:
«It’s four in the morning, the end of December. I’m writing you now just to see if you’re better. New York is cold, but I like where I’m living. There’s music on Clinton Street all through the evening.
I hear that you’re building your little house deep in the desert. You’re living for nothing now, I hope you’re keeping some kind of record. Yes, and Jane came by with a lock of your hair. She said that you gave it to her. That night that you planned to go clear. Did you ever go clear?
Ah, the last time we saw you you looked so much older. Your famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulder. You’d been to the station to meet every train. And you came home without Lili Marlene. And you treated my woman to a flake of your life. And when she came back she was nobody’s wife. Well I see you there with the rose in your teeth. One more thin gypsy thief. Well I see Jane’s awake — She sends her regards. And what can I tell you my brother, my killer, what can I possibly say? I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you. I’m glad you stood in my way. If you ever come by here, for Jane or for me, your enemy is sleeping, and his woman is free. Yes, and thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyes. I thought it was there for good so I never tried. And Jane came by with a lock of your hair. She said that you gave it to her that night that you planned to go clear —
Sincerely, L. Cohen »
Will the 45th president of United States Make America Great Again (TM)?
This digital illustration was made last night, after Donald J. Trump won the 2016 presidential elections against Hillary Clinton. The Republican elephant kicked the Democratic donkey in the butt. Now let’s see if the new POTUS will MAGA.
Throwback graphic design work.
I’ve just found out this lettering experiment inside my old archives. The “Sir Joe” part was originally handwritten. I then added some depth and shadowing with different digital layers to simulate a computer-generated 3D effect, plus some red and white stripes as a background. It’s a quite simple idea, but enough entertaining to play for a while!