When it rains, it pours

Some new stuff you may not have seen! Don't forget to check out the Andrew Jerz Permanent Collection in person at FoMu in Allston, where you can get awesome, dairy free, coconut-milk-based icecream AND see my original paintings!

More updates soon on some current projects

If money's all you want, then money's all you'll get, but I'd rather be drunk and in love

NUFF SAID!

Hey, Frank, can I borrow a couple of bucks from you?

The events of this story are completely false. The names have NOT been changed to protect the innocent because...well...none of it really happened. Except for the bit with the toilet plunger.

It was a moonless, shitty-spit night when Andrew Jerz first stumbled through the plate glass doors of the otherwise fairly reputable establishment that is Soulfire Barbeque in Allston, USA. When I say he stumbled through, I mean he literally crashed through, shattering almost all of the glass, but he didn't mind as the tinkling teardrops of smashed sparkles pitter-pattered on the shoulders of his soggy coat, and he shook the sharper pieces off of his clothcap before wringing it out. It was raining pretty glumly out there, which's what had ultimately forced Andrew's entry into the joint in the first place. I don't remember if it was open or not, but Andrew had somehow become some-kind-of-drunk, or at least some form of substance-induced mental delirium, by eating way-too-many McDonald's double-cheeseburgers around the corner; the manager of the establishment had cut him off --- they would no longer serve him 'till he'd gone home and thought about just how much Lean, Finely Textured Beef Product a human body could possibly handle in one sitting. What kind of country has this become?

And so it was in this state that Andrew slopped up to the bar at Soulfire Barbeque, little chinkletts of glass still dusting his shoulders as he ordered, "whiskey, please." There was a strange, bearded man behind the bar and he was making some kind of mischief with a toilet plunger that Andrew didn't really want any part of, "you'll have to order something to eat with it, we can't serve drinks here without food...and we're only allowed to make mixed drinks, no straight shots of hard liquor," (what kind of country has this become?) and Andrew replied, "I don't care how you do it, just make it happen." The two strangers locked eyes for a moment, as the odd, bearded fellow stopped plunging the sink for just a moment in deep thought --- and then his eyes lit up.

Two minutes later, another slinky fellow with a beard materialized from within the kitchen with a fiendish grin. "Who the hell're you?" "Name's Erick," he replied, "and I'm a slinky fellow with a beard," and he slid a plate of something and an empty tumbler across the bar to Andrew, who stared in confusion for one moment. On the plate was a single slice of thick, Texas toast, "what of the whiskey, you bearded freaks!?" But Erick and his cohort, Ian, just smiled knowingly and nodded encouragingly. With a hint of disdain in his eyes, Andrew cut into the toast with a fork as the two slinky fuckers looked on, and a golden-brown fluid trickled from the bread as he sliced. Andrew started in disbelief, and the bearded folk just continued to smile and nod. Andrew picked up the bread and wrung it out like a sleet-soaked scally-cap into the empty glass that the duo had so generously provided. Andrew had his whiskey, and all three of them had beaten the powers that be in this increasingly rule-burdened and fascist CEOcracy that used to be the once free and great United States of America so few years ago.

Naturally, they got to talking about the decline of everything that was good and Holy in this world, and somehow reached the conclusions that Andrew should be doing live painting in addition to showing a compendium of his recent works in an upcoming show that the two had been putting together.

While you're there, don't miss the rare in-person-appearance of an anthropomorphic website, the ever-snowballing-in-popularity Boston Arts Underground conceived by friend, professional seamstress and avid clarinet enthusiast, Sam! She'll be there dishing out all kinds of funky swag, I'm sure.

Tuesday! May 29th! Great Scott on Harvard Ave in Allston, USA! Music! Art! Beer!!!!

Two Ladies

It's a Christmas Miracle...

Confused because you woke up this afternoon - having passed out in the midst of a moderately temperate New England winter's eve? Does your little horse [read: Volvo 240 DL] think it queer to wake up without a goddamn plowed road near? Worried that in your sleep you may have inadvertently traveled through time to the next ice age? Don't worry, you're safe in you're own time. Rest assured: I'm Andrew Jerz XLI and this's your home year of 19-90-230 AD, brought on by a sinister, extra-atmospheric weather machine created by Al Gore to substantiate his claims of unpredictable and illogical weather patterns as a result of global warming. Al Gore is still alive as a talking head in a jar, and is now Supreme Emergency Chancellor of the World, his limited dictatorial powers granted to him by a willing, democratic (yet scared and uneducated) majority some 210 years ago...for some reason he never relinquished his rule...but we all like to believe that even though things are bad and there isn't enough food to feed the world's population, we're better off with the status-quo than some kind of scary, unpredictable world under a different style of hegemony...

While you wrap your mind around that, here's a commissioned portrait, a rejected illustration (go figure), and sketches of babes drawn at Dr. Sketchy's at Great Scott (corner of Comm & Harvard Aves in Allston) hosted by Truth Serum Productions which's - pretty much - the best figure drawing situation you can find, ever.

Happy Freakin' Winter

After a nightmare of a set of comps and revisions, I have two new Holiday posters for Cardullo's Gourmet Shoppe in Harvard Square; they posters will be up outside of the store at 6 Brattle Street for the remainder of the Holiday Season, if you wish to see them in person.



Also, a few new images for a completely unrelated, but way more EXTREME book project involving the hunting of whales, demons, and psychotic attack-vultures:



And, finally, a commission for a rich kid from New Zealand to make him feel a little bit more at home in Boston. The All Blacks have boring uniforms though: so I used Syracuse University colors.

The sea is a cruel mistress

I am writing a cookbook:

And the cookbook that I am writing will be titled, "I've Been a Sandwich Maker for Many's the Year (and I Spent All Me Money on Whiskey and Beer): a narrative, illustrated cookbook by Andrew J. Jerz"

But until that is done, go find my artwork sitting outside 6 Brattle Street in Cambridge, MA. It will be changing every month or two, so always check back to see the next seasonal poster.

Special thanks to Greg and whoever else works at Signal Graphics at 450 Cambridge Street in Allston, MA for making these prints look friggin' spectacular and basically delivering everything I needed and asked for!

Kittens

Lower allston? We can't go down there...it's CAT COUNTRY.

There IS justice in America, after all

Look for my illustrations displayed in front of Cardullo's Gourmet Food Store in Harvard Square, Cambridge in the coming days. I have struck a deal with them to do seasonal promotional artwork for the A-frame in front of their store. Should be up within the weekend.