Tumeyland

The first SHADOWMAN comic I made was inspired by Art Speigelman’s Prisoner On The Hell Planet . This is a graphic narrative in the Expressionism style, rendered in scratchboard. Scratchboard is a heavy sheet of white paper covered with a black clay coating. To get the white lines, you have to scrape away the black part. So when you render in the way you normally would, you get an eerie negative image. Using this form for comics was brilliant, and I wanted in!  I played with the idea of darkness, shadows, and positive/negative parts of both visual and emotional realities. Here’s my scratchboard comic, made in 1983: Over the years, I’ve drawn several SHADOWMAN comics. I moved the style from scratchboard into into ink on paper which is a lot faster.  I think of them more as comic book haikus. Here’s one that, by my best guess, was done in 1995: And here is a SHADOWMAN comic I made today, Feb.10 2010.

In 1990, I was living in Leominster, Massachusetts with Susan. We were soon to married. This was my two years of experiencing blue collar America. This comic book shares my experiences and feelings about working in a factory. (Click on each image to enlarge and read)  

(Record Review)"Simon's Graceland: A Masterful Musical Meld by Paul Christley Tumey First Published: Capital City Magazine #24 (Nov, 1986) Where were you when you first heard Paul Simon's Graceland? It's one of those events where things are different ever after... especially if you were listening in the fall of 1986, when the record first entered the world. It was like nothing else we'd heard. I was 24 and living with a 44-year old lovely lady. She procured a copy on a cassette tape and lent me her Walkman (remember those?). The music heralded both a new optimism and realism in my life as I matured into a freshly minted adult American. (Click on the image at left to enlarge and read. ) It's my belief we become different people when we listen to some songs. Graceland's new sounds subtly made me into someone new. Part of that newness for me was becoming a published writer. This article was one of my first published articles. My b...

As I grow, I see ever more clearly that the essence of staying centered is to allow yourself to constantly shift and reconfigure. This set of four square panels I painted in December of 2009 is designed to fit together in any orientation and sequence. The paint was applied on each panel using a different tool and technique, brush, rag, sponge, and fingers. The design was inspired by a cool toy I picked up at the Chicago Art Institute in 2008. The word "Center" is written on one of the panels. Can you find it? Here's three random configurations (click to make larger):    

A bedtime story by Paul Christley Tumey (with help from Reid Christley Tumey) Once upon a time there was a lonely window washer. Every morning he would set out with his buckets, wipers, ladders, ropes and pulleys. He washed the windows of short and tall buildings, the circle windows of brick mansions, the large plate glass show windows of department stores, and the stained glass windows of churches. He even kept the little square windows of his glasses gleaming and spotless. He worked for a sourpuss named Mr. Doctor Professor President Commodore Octagus, who owned a company that cleaned everything. These titles were all self-bestowed, because Octagus felt he deserved to be looked up to, since he was such a successful businessman. Mr. Doctor Professor President Commodore Octagus was never satisfied with the lonely window washer's work. "Cleaner! Brighter! SPOT-less!" the Commodore would command. His voice, however, was squeaky and high, and he had two big tufts of wi...

by Paul Christley Tumey Tonight, home from the gleaming new shopping center, I am thinking of the poem the one I didn't write about that stand of trees It would have been a lot better than this, less artifice, truer to a tree than to a tree missed I would have said (I remember walking home to your brown arms late one night through them) the tall pinetops were green chandeliers The woods the most haunted of mansions where every night the wind bands played to thousands of dancing branches I would have said we were all millionaires The trees are gone now The few acres I would shortcut to work through to be in the woods before I was in the weeds They saved me but I could not save them I swear I saw hobbits and leprechauns in the gathering dusk And once I made love to you in the moonlight your back against the strong thighs of a magnolia They saved me The town started ten blocks away a hundred years ago, so it's a confound progress did not commence...

by Paul Christley Tumey I once stepped out into the mushy forest, I once did. Everything is without logic. The Han Nee Mulls touched all around and spoke: "Put on this fur and these feathers, Change your diet, and we'll all be that much better." Grizzlydigs! If only I could. The fur fit and I could live with the sneezing and tickling - "Take your eyes away from the front. Change your diet and the manner of your hunt." Yak! I stopped looking front and that was quite a change, But see the point? My diet, I could not change. Goodbye to the little Han Nee Mulls scampering away playing and laughing. If my world ends -- It certainly won't be their fault. I know we'll always be kin For I hear the growling within. Leominster,Massachusetts - 1986