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Hello everyone. In 14 hours my comic project that I am trying to get funded with Craig Cermak will be going down in flames. We have a lot of money to raise in a very short amount of time. So little I don't want to do a whole thing here but let me assure you, our comic is awesome, our comic deserves more than the 2,500 we are trying to raise, and you will NOT regret funding it if it does go through. I should have posted here sooner but instead I just pasted some stuff at the bottom of deviations as to not bother anyone aside from people looking at my art. Here's the link to our kickstarter fundraiser campaign:…

IF you can help a couple comic artists out, that would be amazing. IF you can spread the word about this project, that would be amazing. IF you can pretend to care, that would be amazing.

Just a little background about this project. Craig and I are both relatively young artists trying to publish our first independent comic. We met here on D.A. and I've been coloring his stuff for a long time and it's been amazing to work with a dude as talented as he is. If this kickstarter doesn't go through, we're just going to make another book, try to raise money again, and see where it goes from there.

So you'll probably be getting another desperate plea then too.

Do you want that?
  • Listening to: Lagwagon
  • Reading: Will Eisner's Shop Talk
So I have been thinking about putting up a journal thing for awhile saying that if anyone wants to may me to draw stuff I would be willing to uh... do... that... The main reason I hadn't posted a message before was because I didn't think I was good enough of an artist to justify being paid more than it would cost to ship the drawing in the first place.

So, lets get to the brass tacks as I've heard people refer to tacks that were merely brass plated. For an 11x17 drawing in pencil, I'd charge $20. These would be tight pencils like some of the pencils I've put up here that weren't colored. For an 11x17 drawing inked, I'll charge $25. And you know... that's inked. So, it should look alright. For a digitally colored 11x17 drawing, I'll charge $35. That'd be a digital print that includes the original inked drawing.

From what I have seen people usually charge for extra characters. I'm going to assume that is so that they don't have to constantly draw every member of the Legion of Superheroes every time and that makes total sense.  I'm not going to go crazy, but if you want two characters fighting or whatever, I won't charge extra. Otherwise, I will charge 15 bucks for each additional character. Also, another 8 dollars for shipping.

Now that we've gotten the unsavory discussion of my delusions of getting money out of the way, I'm going to explain a bit why I'm posting journal. As I mentioned before, I never entertained the notion of drawing for money because I have horrible self esteem. I didn't think anyone would WANT me to draw something for them and pay me in exchange. But times have changed and as the case may be, I currently DO get paid to draw stuff for people so I might as well tell the good people of deviantart that if you stumble across my page and think, "Hey, that Ramon Villalobos is a jam up guy and a talented artist, I should get him to draw something I want!" Well, then now you have the ability to follow that through. So there's that. Also, even if nobody responds, it doesn't affect me in the slightest to put this online if nobody responds. So there's that on top of that.

Anyhow... yeah. Just send me a note if you are interested in this eventuality. Also, feel free to email me at
  • Listening to: Dylan.
  • Reading: Grant Morrison. All day. All night.
There are very few places in American society quite like the flea market. It's a place that seems to run rampant with illegal activity, yet it is publicly condoned and upon entering the city of Galt, I couldn't help but feel like the sign right off the free way directing drivers to the flea market was an indication of just how much the people of that town valued the marketplace. They seemed to pride themselves on their flea market the way the people of Gaza must pride their strip or Giza pride their pyramids. It's not simply a place to shop, it is a hotbed of activity and the place to find everything you want and need in life. I certainly hoped upon arrival it would live up to that promise.

What I find most intriguing about the flea market is that it's not a particularly pleasant place to go. It's hot, sweaty, smelly, there are potholes everywhere and extremely crowded in the aisles yet as I found out, people flock there in drives. Why? Well that became utterly apparent as I walked inside, everything is cheaper than you would find it at a normal store. This is not to say that its dirt cheap as one would expect shopping at a flea market, I encountered a gentleman selling a large ceramic brontosaurus sculpture complete with saddle for nearly two thousand dollars, that couldn't possibly be the going rate on ceramic dinosaurs with riding accessories. But what must motivate people to go (other than perhaps the incredible bargain on tube socks and pineapples) were that they would be in like-minded Company. It is a melting pot, the flea market, in that different races all converge at this parking lot all with the same primary objective; if you are a buyer you want to leave with the most stuff and spend the least amount of money and if you are a seller you want to leave with the least amount of stuff and the most amount of money. They share the same ideals the way all church goers share the same commandments, flea market dwellers share the same basic philosophy whether they are black, Hispanic, white, Asian, or Middle Eastern.

During my time spent at the flea market, I was compelled to buy a lot of things, a hat embolden with an NFL team logo, a luchador wrestling mask, perhaps a decorative sword prop from the film 300, a slew of DVD's no one is really interested in watching, and of course a pineapple. I bought none of these things, but I felt like if I would this would have been the best place to buy these things. Unlike anywhere else you might find these items, bartering is still widely accepted but I got the uneasy feeling like if anyone was upfront in lowering a price there would be conflict. A friend of mine who was with me hinted that he only had a certain amount of money and the vendor was more than willing to cut the price down as long as he took everything my friend had in the process. It's a game of give and take, of playing off of your opponent with the same acute attention to strategy as involved in a game of chess. It's a delicate balance as a low offer could break the deal and offend the seller and a too steep of price could turn off the buyer and lose a sale. Which is why most people walking around at flea market have an uneasy tension to them. Not an uncomfortable tension, but the tension that comes when you are a snake ready to strike at any moment walking past t shirt stalls and cell phone accessory booths alike. Everyone wants to be sly and everyone has their eyes on the person to their left.

Yet surprisingly, there are not nearly as many violent confrontations at the flea market? How could this be? In a sweltering pit of asphault filled with desperation and corruption, how is it that childred are allowed to roam freely without being snatched up and ending on ebay the next day or how do women manage to peruse the nearly endless stalls of thongs and and hoop earings without being the victims of a malicious raping? I would think it's because every one seems to enter the flea market with a common understanding that the person they decide to antagonize, no matter how defenseless that person might seem, is potentially backed up by a large unseen army of thugs and brutes that may not be so defenseless. This is why I believe that flea market's have the potential to be models for a perfect utopia, because if you look at any respectable t-shirt stand, there will always be a shirt that has a bleeding Jesus dying for the salvation of humanity right next to a shirt glorifying the Mexican Mafia.
  • Listening to: The Kinks
  • Reading: Comic books
  • Watching: nothing
  • Eating: tuna sandwich and funyons. Funnest of all chips
  • Drinking: tea
What's up my good people.

First off, had to butcher that quote to fit it. None to happy with that but I really wanted to quote my boy Woody Allen.

Anyways, it's 1 in the morning and I wanted to finish this Dark Knight thing I am doing for a print and at a crucial moment in between inking and penciling it I run out of fucking lead in my mechanical pencil. Oh no, what a personal disaster. I could switch totally to a different kind of pencil but I dunno, I really don't feel like that. So I'll probably stay up till three past a Dawson's Creek rerun on TV and keep inking on thin ice.

f you are still reading you probably wonder two if not three things. One being why haven't I stopped reading this? Why is Ramon telling me this? And of course, which episode of the Creek is on TV in about 40 minutes? To answer the most important first, its the one where Pacey has Joey secretary for him in the last season to disastrous/hilarious results. I'm telling you this because I am venting my frustration with the obscenities that I have peppered through this blog. You are reading this because... well I dunno, either you are really boring or I am REALLY engaging. Possibly a lethal cocktail of both ingredients?


This picture is hinging on being good and awful, it could still go either way. I'm not sure what will determine whether or not it sucks but I'm going to add more nervous energy and India ink and pray to a nonexistent god for the best.

Oh shit, on a totally unrelated note, I watched License to Drive today/yesterday and it was pretty spectacular. I understand why the Coreys were so hot in the 80s now.
  • Listening to: Songs From the Black Hole
  • Reading: The New Adventures of Retroactive Man Volume 7
  • Watching: Myself make up fake book titles
  • Playing: nothing. Games are for fools. Mwhahahahahhahahahha
  • Eating: not a damn thing
  • Drinking: Water. Cloudy water.
I want to start off by thanking everyone who has taken time to favorite and comment on my pictures. It's really awesome of you all to do that especially since I rarely comment back because I feel like an insincere fool by saying "thanks" or variations of the sentiment over and over and over... but that's all going to change! Notions of disingenuousness be damned!



It occurred to me while reading other people's journals that maybe I should start my own. I've tried blogging around and I always seem to start out strong and fade out so I was hesitant to start one here only to leave it abandoned... especially when no one cares what I have to say... And it's because I expect no readers that I will probably keep this up.

So now that I have that out of the way, last weekend I took a very eye opening journey to the Haight, former home of R. Crumb. Never before have I felt like such a small town hick. I don't even think that place is even that hip anymore and I still felt radically out of place. That said, I had a hell of a time there. I was hoping I'd find a comic book store but I wasn't able to see one on my walk, aw well. It was pretty dope too because I went with my school's art club (of which I am/was a secretary, a position I have vowed not to retain next semester) I got a stipend of $9.50 to spend on lunch. McDonald's tastes much better when you are eating on someone else's money. I thought about it and I sold two of my awful paintings for about 55 bucks and because it was a club sale they kept 20 percent and i got 44. That means they got eleven dollars from me and I got 9.50 plus another 15 for a price of admission to the museum we went to. Not bad. Anyways, despite my being uncultured swine, I still dug the Gilbert and George exhibit that was showing in the basement of the De Young Museum and not many other people in the group I was with could say that. In fact, they kind of hated it. Large pictures of shit? Men grabbing each others asses? The word FUCK?!? It was too much for some of them.

But anyways, I'm thinking I might have to write down my own declaration of theological beliefs some day. Really for my own benefit because I'm tired of referring to different songs and comic books to try to explain to people that I don't believe in their god because Jack Kirby, John Lennon, and Nietzche have convinced me that's the wrong scene. I only mention this in this particular blog because... I'm not sure really.

Thanks to anyone who stayed through this rambling, I'll plot it out next time. I'll be a really methodical Journal writer from here on out. I better go.
  • Listening to: lagwagon
  • Reading: what i'm typing
  • Watching: a computer screen
  • Playing: absolutely nothing
  • Eating: nothing
  • Drinking: coke