Monday, December 12, 2011

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Saint Christina the Astonishing

You can read about Saint Christina here at the very lovely blog Saints Preserve Us
This is an ink drawing I started sketching back in late April 2011 and just finished watercoloring and scanning. I was going for the same dark brooding atmosphere evoked by the Nick Cave song of the same name.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Viking Swan Logo

Custom Commission Business Card  
Copyright Christina Ramirez 2011. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

We're having a party

Threw together a poster for tonight's main event.
Hopefully all that is injured is pride.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Isn't it Garand, boys!

Happy Birthday, Sweetie.
The manliest birthday card that ever did live.
For inspiration I was looking at old propaganda posters.
The image of the soldier is from a 1941 copy of Popular Mechanics I own.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Weekend Warriors

I designed these postcards. Purchase them through the Ant Island Historical Society,
 Just send us an email and we'll get back to ya.
 Alina guarding my art prints and the P.R.O.P. Shirts in Ft. Worth. Crowd favorites: Anything I draw involving heroin.
... as a kite
Doug Benson, Alina, and I; we hang out all the time. We gave him and his man friend fellow comedian David Huntsberger P.R.O.P. shirts this past Sunday.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Come With Us on a Journey Through Time and Space

AUGUST 26 2011
  from 6- midnight
Stay Wired 
2918 West Berry St
Fort Worth TX 76109

The art of the Ramirez's's's'
Christina Mary and Ricky
(we're who you're driving out to see).

My Wooden Leg
Blake Mackey
Israel Gonzalez
Daniel and Penelope
Mom and Dad
Tim Platt and All That is Beautiful
and more...

The Launch of the P.R.O.P. Graphic T-shirt Line

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Texas Zephyr Crash

(Joe Hughes Railroad Picture archive)

I stopped in and killed some time at the antique store at the corner of Cox and Forest.

I bought a set of two photographs there, unique in their subject matter...

The first picture shows the same kind of train car (perhaps the exact same one) as the photo from 1962 at the top of the post. Both say 'PULLMAN' 'LARIAT CREST'

The third photo shows parts of a crushed car, also visible in the lower right foreground of  the second picture. I can't make out the sticker or label on the car door, except for the letters "MOSH" or "MOSA"...

Maybe the train hit the car? Maybe the photographer took a picture of debris in the ditch next to the train out of boredom?

 There was a lot information available online about the train the Texas Zephyr and it's Pullman cars online, but no mention of this crash. The line ran from Dallas to Denver beginning on August 22, 1940, and ending September 11, 1967. The Lariat Crest Pullman car was retired in 1963.

Nice photos, in any case.

Thursday, July 7, 2011



Bk XII:39-63 The House of Rumor

    There is a place at the center of the World, between the zones of earth, sea, and sky, at the boundary of the three worlds.  From here, whatever exists is seen, however far away, and every voice reaches listening ears. Rumor lives there, choosing a house for herself on a high mountain summit, adding innumerable entrances, a thousand openings, and no doors to bar the threshold. It is open night and day: and is all of sounding bronze. All rustles with noise, echoes voices, and repeats what is heard. There is no peace within: no silence anywhere. Yet there is no clamor, only the subdued murmur of voices, like the waves of the sea, if you hear them far off, or like the sound of distant thunder when Jupiter makes the dark clouds rumble.
    Crowds fill the hallways: a fickle populace comes and goes, and, mingling truth randomly with fiction, a thousand rumours wander, and confused words circulate. Of these, some fill idle ears with chatter, others carry tales, and the author adds something new to what is heard. Here is Credulity, here is rash Error, empty Delight, and alarming Fear, sudden Sedition, and Murmurings of doubtful origin. Rumour herself sees everything that happens in the heavens, throughout the ocean, and on land, and inquires about everything on earth. 


Friday, June 17, 2011

Thursday, June 16, 2011


Listening to earlier today and drew
PEACHES, the one the only...
She has all this really curly hair that just kinda lends itself to the kinda wild scroll work I put as a border.
Her songs deal mainly with themes of gender identity, sex, and sucking on titties.
So I thought that hair is very sexual, it makes the mind wander.

Boom didi boom didi boom didi boom

$4.00 at a local comic book store(?!?)
"Satire without malice in songs and sketches
by Englands gooniest and Italy's loveliest"
I <3 this album.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Beer Squid!

As per matt charles' request.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Wacom/ Black Sabbath

So I found one of my old Black Sabbath cd's today.

I was listening to that song "Mr. Crowley" in the car and I got this idea to do a self portrait based on that picture of Aleister Crowley with his pyramid hat.
I listened to it on repeat all the way home

...It's so fucking weird.
Also, i guess this is the first wacom piece i've completed. Whee!

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

SAlmon Run

     I was in a river in Alaska. The salmon were swimming upstream to spawn and I was there to eat them. I was naked and in the company of huge brown bears. They did not treat me as an intruder, even though I was different in appearance to them. I snapped at the silvery fish, huge, slimy. I plunged my face into the water and feel the fishes body yield under my teeth and struggle and break and I headed to the bank to hold down the fish, still flexing still breathing as I sunk my teeth into itsts side and tore off red slabs of sweet delicious flesh. The weather was over cast, and it rained on me as I ate. The salmon was heavy with eggs and I relished the salt the richness of each one. I roared when one of the bears tried to take my catch. He bared his teeth and mine snapped open and shut after i finished my roar. He walked on, and I retreated to the forest as the sun began to shine though it continued to rain. The mountains and the streams were familiar they were my home and they were my grocery store, my bed, my playground, the air was sweet and pure and fresh and I never spoke there were no people to speak to there were eagles and elk and every shade of green, the world was vast and I was, I just was. I ate when I was hungry and I slept when I was tired and never intruding into the life and death struggles of my wild daily life did the sound of cars or trains or cell phones or anything intrude. I was rough and callous and impervious to the cold, it was spring and the river was cold but it did not hurt. My teeth were sharp and my eyes were sharp I could smell the bears, I believe that is what I was, just an oddly shaped small bear. I could smell the pine, the flowers, the dirt, the muck stuck to my skin from the river bank and the insides of the salmon. The day of the week and the month and the year did not matter. I was ageless, I was full of fish.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Mumblin' and Shootin' the blues

Mumblin' Biscuit Jefferson's kitchen
Chicago, 1938

Junkers Blues
by Champion Jack Dupree
all right... I'm sick as I can be...

Some people call me a junker, cause I'm loaded all the time
I just feel happy and I feel good all the time

Some people say I use a needle, and some say I slip cocaine
But that's the best old feelin' that I ever need

Say goodbye, goodbye to whiskey
Lord and so long to gin
I just want my reefer, I just want to feel high again

oh yes I'm a junker
I feel all right

Some people, some people crave for chicken
And some crave for a house steak
But when I get loaded lord I don't want my milk and cake

oh yeah that's what I want now...
They call me a junker...
Cause I'm loaded all the time...
But that ain't nothin that I feel good all the time...

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Knickerbocker Village: The Bowery And The Sunshine Motel

Knickerbocker Village: The Bowery And The Sunshine Motel

Sunshine Motel, the sign is still up.

A radio piece from 1998. The rooms were $10 a night, even then.

Amazing piece; i first heard part of it when NPR first aired it, and it always stuck in mind.

I found it again thanks to a blog called Knickerbocker Village.

According to this New York Post article from 2008, The hotel was spared from demolition for at least another three years... So, I guess, seeing as it's 2011, it's up for demolition again?


It's for research.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Saturday, February 12, 2011

John Henry Split My Heart

egg tempera, ink, and gold leaf on goat skin parchment, 2010


Everybody hurts.

Razor Blues

How Biscuit Jefferson became Mumblin' Biscuit Jefferson.