To my dearest Internet,

I write to apologize  for not telling you I love you, for not renting billboards scrawled with messages of my affection for you and not telling everyone I meet that I believe in love at first sight, because it was the first time I laid eyes on you that I knew my life would never be the same.

If you leave me I will die, and if I cannot muster the will to overcome my instinct for self preservation I will, at the very least, be totally bummed out until my end comes.

Yours Forever,

Michael

I had to take a break from reading about people like this guy before my brain exploded (from “people used to be a million times cooler” overload) so I made this digital poster. Neat. When I get some time I would like to do something similar to this but IRH (in real human) with my flesh and bone paddywhackers.

Anyway, keep the dream alive. Manned mission to Mars by March 14. Can you dig it?

 Edit: Let’s stop for a rest here on our way.

Here is one of my upcoming projects. These are sketches from a short book I am currently trying to explode out of my fingertips. It’s a story about winter, outer space and rockets that spans 5 billion years of progress in 16 pages of glorious text and illustration.

Some of my other goals for this year include, but are not limited to:

1. Draw one million pictures of the invisible forces of nature.

2. Have a secondary roll in a made-for-television movie.

3. See a human land on Mars… with my own eyes… (that means I was on Mars first, dummy.)

4. Upload my mind-brain to the web so that I can surf myself all day.

5. Go to Boom City! (by plane, train & aquatic-mobile)

So, in closing, good luck with your New Year’s resolutions. Please, send me your fake-believe positive energies to aid in my conquest of our beautiful solar system and all its lovely treasures. Thank you.

So my faithful reader(s), fear not. A blast of lightning has reawakened her rhythm, beating like the fathers of old who stood atop mountains of anxious children, waiting for their birching. Every morning inspired high school girls scrub the filth and rust of misuse and neglect from the pulsing carcass. They submerge her in attention while tickling the keys that light up her face, knowing that soon enough the toothy woman from Mystic Pizza will go from Paul Walker to Cindy Crawford.

Don’t hold your breath, but this baby is getting a makeover… Sometime… Maybe soon…

Oh! Quick side note: I live in Pittsburgh now. I’m glad i like french fries.

Untitled

In this shot: Emily and Bobby, two of my favorite people in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA, Earth. This photograph and the two from the previous post are part of a new series I am now calling “Outer Spaces.” I have a few more to finish post-production on, so stay tuned.

Some of you may recognize these flowers from a previous project, completed during my second photography course some four-ish years ago. I sewed them out of fabric from an old t-shirt and gave them wire armatures on a Saturday night during the spring semester of my 3rd year. I know this because I was listening to smooth, sexy R&B songs on the radio. I really do miss listening to Super Soul Saturday. Anyway, here are some new creations.

“Closed-System”

“Basic Flowers”

Due to file size limitations I cannot upload a version of the flower composite that I feel is of adequate dimension. So I am posting each part of the triptych separately.

“Inside Out”
Digitally colored ink drawing.

Also, if you received a printer’s hat or a scrap of paper with terrorkill.com written on it, and are now perusing this tiny spec of the interwebs, send me and email or message me and tell me how cool you are. mdaburch@gmail.com

picture from printeresting.org

and he’s a total chomp-face.

I made this during a visit to my parents’ home a couple months back.