So you know that creepy eyeball art that I made from artistic obsession, tried to use as postcards, decided were too weird to use for business promotion, then decided to stick on my website after all?  Well it's been framed and will be at the art gallery of MarsCon this weekend.  If you want to see them in all their 8x10 high-resolution glory and have a chance to purchase one, head to the Bloomington Holiday Inn Select on Friday and Saturday, pay your $20, $40, or $55 bucks to get into MarsCon, then drop another hundred or so on one of my images.  It's worth it for just the frame alone.

Seriously.  My wife does excellent framing.  Call me if you need something framed. Or you could buy the nice frame and pull out the creepy eyeball art and put in a nice 8x10 of you and your dog at the beach or something.  

There's something pretty cool about seeing them all together in one place though.  All those monstrous eyes staring down at you from the wall, as if pleading with you to put them out of their misery.  I really need to write up an artist statement for these guys, something about exploring the boundary between biology and technology, about how, sure, eyes are the windows to your soul, but at the end of the day they're just little bags of jelly that can express solitude, fear, patience, confinement, or nothing at all.  But how much of ourselves to we read into those expressions?  It's not the eyeballs themselves that carry the expression, it's the face surrounding them.  The only thing eyes can do are make the pupils bigger or smaller and move around a little bit.  So why does it bug us so much when you go and staple something to them?

I've been told that children like these illustrations, so be sure to bring the kids.

UPDATE: The gallery reception was kind of boring.  I hid behind the kitties and baby dragon art next to mine (my monster eyeballs will eat your kitties for breakfast!) and tried to suss out what the crowd was saying about them.  Most people seemed to like the clockwork frog, which was not a surprise to me as it's the least disturbing piece.  It's also the only one without my web address integrated into the artwork in some way, which seems to turn people off in a knee-jerk reaction against commercialism.  Fair enough.  I'll find something artier and poetic to ring the lenses for the next show.  Maybe some pithy title for each.

The weird part was how the party was on the unlucky 13th floor, which I've heard doesn't exist in most hotels.  They just skip right from 12 to 14.  And as you can see in this picture here, it's not only the 13th floor, but it looks like somebody tacked on the extra 13th floor button which makes the entire party seem like a sketchy escapade on the roof.