Mod Squad Monkey World COLOR

This is my last collaborative piece with the talented and highly esteemed Pat Carlucci. Also, my final farewell to him. Yesterday morning, Pat...

...You know. He took on lymphoma and dragged it out to double overtime, fighting valiantly while maintaining his vibrant selfless personality. I've never imagined that a man so personable, so selfless and considerate, would be able to uphold such unparalleled courtesy while simultaneously fighting every day for his life.

This was going to be our big debut image. This image. This was going to be our image we would storm Megacon with. Every hour spent working on this image felt so...

...I don't know how to put it...

...out of body. I was going to color these lines last January, and even had a start on it. But last night when I opened it back up, I found I wasn't too terribly far, and was using an old method of setting up the image, so to avoid future troubles, I started it again from scratch.

It started out pretty standard, getting all the lines separated into an alpha channel, getting all the flats down, and when I started putting in the skin features and blemishes-

"You ever do punk goth style?"
I lean back in my chair, look up to the ceiling, and take out my headphones. I reply to the celestial voice in my mind. "I dunno, man, you think this one would work?"
With enthusiasm echoing through the infinite cosmos, "Of course!"
"But I was thinking a redhead-"
"Pink and black, I think THAT would look great."

I hesitate, close my eyes, imagining myself ascending through starfields but only looking at bleak, motionless black. I beckon this voice again.

"Pat, how's it feel to be free?"

The ether replied with the same static darkness I saw in my closed eyes, not a sound more. I waited a minute, in my mind trying to reach out to that voice.

"I'm sorry I didn't finish this sooner. If there's any legacy you left me with, any lessons at all, it's to always finish what I start, not get sidetracked, and stick to my word."

Again, no answer, nothing in my entranced dream world. I sigh, hoping he heard it, and opened my eyes. The answer, staring back at me in my computer screen. I saw it colored, I saw the pinks and blues and hints of yellow, I saw it...as if the way he envisioned it. I rubbed my eyes, put back on my headphones, and looked forward again to see once more the barely finished work. And without any hesitation, proceeded to get down various swatches of violet, rose, magenta, and orchid.

Maybe it was a wayward muse. Maybe it was just another one of the spontaneous outbursts of disassociated communication from my own psyche. But there's a part in me, a piece of my heart that sincerely wants to believe, that Pat Carlucci swung by room tonight to pitch an idea, to ensure that the last collaborative effort we did would, truly, be a product of our collected ideas, not just my own.

I hope you like it. We'll miss you terribly. You really rocked our world. And through this image, our concert gets one final encore.

Bob Seger, Turn the Page (Excerpt)

Out there in the spotlight
You're a million miles away
Every ounce of energy
You try to give away
As the sweat pours out your body
Like the music that you play

Later in the evening
As you lie awake in bed
With the echoes from the amplifiers
Ringin' in your head
You smoke the day's last cigarette,
Rememberin' what she said

Here I am
On the road again
There I am
Up on the stage
Here I go
Playin' star again
There I go
Turn the page