The Caricaturist Returns from Krypton via Atlantis!

Just returned 🙂

A time-travel-space-travel combo can leave you drained! As you might’ve already surmised, my visit to Krypton took place in the past, before the planet had exploded. I didn’t go there by choice, General Zod‘s forces had abducted me and taken me away to caricature the whole council of elders. (Apple-polisher, that General Zod.) I had finished creating all their caricature-portraits just a few days before the cataclysm – and from there I was jettisoned into the future and landed in Argo City. Most of my time there, I was a prisoner who was tortured and had to draw whatever they wanted me to draw.

Superman helped me escape. Mainly because Krypto the Superdog put in a good word for me. I must tell you that Superman might be a great guy otherwise, but he really needs to wash that cape of his.

Unfortunately, before I could land safely back and before my feet could find solid ground, Superman was charmed away by a bevy of Atlantian beauties; meanwhile I was whisked away to Atlantis, where I was once again forced to paint their council of elders.

Last night, I suddenly woke up in my own bed. I have no idea how I reached home, but I have a feeling that the Atlantians decided that I was changing a nation of beautiful people into caricatures of themselves, and so they decided that enough was enough!

And so, ladies and gentlemen! I am back 🙂

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Summoned by the Chancellor of the Klingon High Council…

… the Caricaturist travels to  Qo’noS, 2375!

Last evening I received a missive bearing the insignia of the Klingon High Council. I was directed to appear before Martok the Chancellor. Armed with this little piece of information, I foraged the Internet and discovered that accepting this invitation would mean traveling forward in time and arriving in the year 2375. I also checked out Chancellor Martok’s picture on Wikipedia. I am used to meeting pseudo-humans of both the earth-dwelling and the alien variety, still his bizarre physiognomy with his ridged forehead left me a little dazed. I wanted to decline the invitation, but my curiosity pushed me to throw a couple of sketch-pads, two overalls, my box of Derwent color pencils, my Intuos tablet, my laptop, and a few other electronic knickknacks into a backpack, and climb into the pod they had so kindly sent to pick me up.

This particular time-pod was nothing like the clunker that I bought in a garage sale, years ago. This was a state-of-art machine with gleaming edges, softer than the softest cushions, organic air-conditioning, hidden pantries that automatically assessed your hunger-quotient, combined it with your other biometrics, and served you the right food that looked and tasted exactly like your favorite dish. All in all, the interiors were super-impressive!  The ETA was 9:00 PM, which meant that I had about half an hour to relax.

I wondered if time-travel in this pod, allowed for Internet access. The moment the thought popped up in my head, I heard the Donkey-voice of Mike Myers tell me that I could access Internet during my journey through the wormhole, but the access won’t be available on the other side, so I’d better hurry.

I thanked him, and was about to pull out my iPad from the backpack when the donkey suddenly materialized in front of me. He looked as real as he does in Shrek. I shrieked and almost fainted as he brought his face close to mine, and with that hurt look in his eyes, he said to me, “Please! I don’t wanna go back there, you don’t know what it’s like to be treated as a freak!… Well, maybe you do… but that’s why we gotta stick together! You gotta let me stay!”

I sort of agreed with his assessment of my freakiness, but I recalled him saying something similar to Shrek, so a small voice told me that the donkey wasn’t real, and it was a futuristic computer program playing 3D tricks on my mind. That calmed me down. I looked straight into his eyes and said, “No you can’t, because you are a computer program, and you’ll automatically be left behind, when I leave this pod.”

The donkey’s routine was obviously written by a programmer who suffered from the frog-in-the-well syndrome and didn’t expect regular time-travelers to be smart, so the moment the donkey heard me, he flickered and then disappeared.

I took a deep breath, gathered my thoughts, pulled out my iPad, typed “Martok” in the Google search box of Safari.

It was all there…everything about him. About his humble beginnings, about his abduction in 2371, just four years ago in the future when I was supposed to meet him. About his becoming the chancellor, and about his family. I committed their names to memory. Lady Sirella and Drex.

I didn’t realize how much time had passed, until the door of the pod slid open. I hadn’t felt it decelerate so the opening of the pod door and the realization that the pod was now standing still on the ground, surprised me a little. The Clunker that I have at home…oh, never mind!

I hauled the bag up on my shoulders and stepped out in a large dome-shaped room where the floor gradually sloped up into the walls that converged to form the roof. As my eyes adjusted to the light conditions, I realized I was inside a sparkling white hemisphere, with no door or window, or anything else in sight – it was an endless, unbroken, and closed expanse of white in all three dimensions. I panicked and turned, thinking that I’d rather wait inside the pod, but…the pod had vanished. I was left standing there in the middle of white nothingness. A wave of nausea hit me and my knees gave way. Why in the name of caricatures, did I accept this idiotic invitation?

I knew the answer. Martok’s message had made me gloat. It told me that my fame had grown beyond the earth, beyond Atlantis, beyond the constraints of time, into the future…and let us be serious, who in his right mind would refuse an invitation by the Chancellor of Klingon High Council?

I heard the footsteps but I tried to ignore them because at this point, I didn’t want to be disappointed again. Artists hallucinate all the time – this could be another hallucination. The footsteps came closer. I still didn’t open my eyes, I wanted to be sure that there indeed was someone or something – I really didn’t care if it was Jabba the hutt…or actually I did, but then Jabba existed in a different paradigm…of Star Wars and not Star Trek, and so he couldn’t be there any way. My mind was mixing stuff up and feeding my anxiety and my fear!

A soft, soothing voice in my head found way through the confusion that raged in my mind. The voice told me to open my eyes and stand up. The charisma of the voice washed over me leaving me clean – devoid of negativity and fear.

I opened my eyes and saw them. They were smiling. All three of them were smiling, and Martok looked a lot less intimidating when he smiled. Lady Sirella raised her hand and the white around us cleared. Now we were standing in their cosy living room that had a rich oriental look. She motioned me to sit, and then she poured me a steaming hot cup of tea. Just what was needed to soothe my nerves. Chancellor Martok, in the meantime, got up and went to one of the cupboards that lined the walls. He came back with an arm-load of albums.

“Lady Sirella and I wanted to commission you for a few caricatures,” he said.

So…ladies and gentlemen of this blog’s viewership,
I am in Qo’noS the home planet of Martok. I’ve been given a comfortable to place to work, and my job is to create caricatures and portraits of Martok and all his near and far relatives. I try to make them look as nice as possible, but very often it’s impossible. The good news however is that they consider me downright ugly and they deem themselves to be the most beautiful people in the entire universe. I hope they never learn what I think. If you’ve not seen my perspective on perspectives, go here.

I’ll return soon, I promise…only about a dozen more to go.

The Caricaturist meets and befriends Anthony Tweiner in Atlantis!

New Visitors, Please excuse this idle prattle of a flu-ridden caricaturist who has temporarily lost her ability to appreciate the difference between reality and fiction. Usually she isn’t like this. When sane, she knows that Atlantis is real, Internet is virtual, and the real world is fictitious. If you are here on a serious errand, please don’t waste another precious moment on this post.

  1. If you are looking for caricatures to ridicule a celebrity of your choice, please click the Gallery Icon in the right sidebar.
  2. If you want to learn how to draw caricatures and/or are specifically looking for my book “The Evolution of the Caricaturist”, again check the sidebar, and add your email id in the tiny form given there, or use this link here. I’ll email you when it comes out on the App Store. It is due to arrive there shortly.
  3. If you are wondering why the Interactive tutorials aren’t up yet, it’s because I lost the free fonts that I had used in those tutorials and now I need to replace the fonts, reformat the tutorials, and re-export them before I serve them from my new site.

None of the above?

Then please read on.

Most of my readers know that Atlantis is my favorite blog-holiday destination. When I disappear from the blogosphere, it’s because I’ve snuck off to Atlantis.  I am still here in Atlantis and I am here of my own volition. You don’t have to remind me that the first time that I visited Atlantis ever, it was not because I wanted to, but because I was abducted. You may call it the Stockholm Syndrome, but I developed a soft-corner for my abductors when I realized that all they wanted from me was to create a caricature illustration of a happy couple, which could be given to them as a wedding gift.

I happily complied with their wishes, completed the caricature, enjoyed the party, and went off to bed in a beautiful room that had a huge glass wall on one side. On the other side of this wall was the ocean, and I could see the corals,  the sea urchins, and also a giant vampire squid that had this really scary unblinking stare.  I admit that the wall was slightly unnerving on my first night there, but I soon got used to it.

In fact, I gave the squid a name – Anthony Tweiner. In my humble opinion, the Atlantasian vampire squids are the Sheldon Coopers of sea.  I say this because on my next visit to Atlantis, I requested for the same room and tapped Anthony Tweiner on the glass wall, and Mr. Tweiner, who was nowhere to be seen until then, appeared suddenly, recognized me and dashed towards the wall. Thankfully all his weiners…oops, tweiners (it appears that I can’t get over my tryst with Mr. Anthony Weiner’s caricature,) were neatly tucked in behind him, or he would’ve broken a couple. He was happy…, rather elated…, umm…, actually rhapsodic, to see me back. I too was happy, but about something else. I celebrated his lack of access to an Internet connection or he would have tweeted the closeups of all his tweiners to me – and the kind of open-minded society that Atlantis is, they would’ve told me that it was Mr. Tweiner’s way of paying me a compliment.

Anyway, I don’t want to split my split-ended hair anymore, nor spin a long yarn longer, so to snip them both short – I’ve been visiting Atlantis quite often. And why not? They pay well and they treat me like a queen, because none of the Atlantasians draw (you won’t either, if you were living in a Utopia that had a per capita annual income of $100K (that’s the exact double of the US), no taxes, no sexism, no racism, no terrorism, none of those other myriad -isms that humanity is plagued with.)  They’ve also set up a small studio and office for me to work from, and anointed me as the National Caricaturist of Atlantis. And I must not forget to mention that I’ve got Anthony Tweiner to keep me entertained.

This is why I sneak off to Atlantis whenever I can, my friends.

… …?

What was that?

Why you?

Speak up please. I can’t hear you.

Why you, why not us?

Oh I get it. You are wondering why I get to become to the National Caricaturist of Atlantis, and why not you.

Yes. Why?

It’s simple my friend. I believe in Atlantis, so I get to go there, I get to meet all those cool Atlantasians, I get to befriend Anthony Tweiner, and of course, become their National Caricaturist…

You see, it’s quite like religion. They say if you believe in heaven, you find it; if you don’t then you don’t. If you believe in Atlantis, you’ll find it; if you don’t, you won’t.

So, will I see you here, sometime soon?

What has the Caricaturist been doing? – A Personal Post.

New Visitor – Please be warned.

While you are welcome to read this post, it mightn’t make much sense to you. This post is for those who know everything (well, almost everything) about me. They know about my excursions into parallel worlds and my tours into the past; they know that I remember most of my past lives in vivid details – especially the one in which I was born a dinosaur; and they know that I spend most of my time doing stuff that’s got nothing to do with making caricatures.

If you still want to read on, please don’t hold me responsible if nothing makes sense to you. 

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What has the caricaturist been doing? Other than apparently “foolishly” refusing to accept the once-in-a-lifetime offer of having a designer clothing line based exclusively on her designs, deleting funny comments from septuagenarians who are more interested in her photograph than in her work, and annoying those who have her best interests at heart.

Well, she’s been:

  • reading a novel called Isis Reach by David Elvar and wondering how the author came up with Shona Madoc, the beautiful and intelligent protagonist of this paranormal mystery, and whether he had some personal paranormal experiences that made the novel so interesting to read.
  • wondering why Mark Zuckerberg‘s got mired in all the controversy that he’s got mired in, and how she can bring herself to believe what they say about him – he’s so young and he’s got an ultra-cute face – regardless of that bump in his nose. I know that my reason sounds flimsy, but that’s the best I can come up with.
  • trying to make up her mind whether or not she should buy a couple of new floral skirts for the summers.
  • booking her flight-tickets to Atlantis. On her last trip to the wonder-city, she had left her favorite mechanical pencil there, and she needs to get it back. Pronto.
  • thinking why she needs to bother herself with drawing Keira Knightley‘s body at all? I mean, who’d notice?
  • trying to engineer a clock that fits 48 hours in a day. If she’s able to do this, a hundred years from now, she’d be known as the Leonardo da Vinci of the twenty-first century.

Though there are other things that she’s been doing – but if the last one works out, they wouldn’t matter; so the super-optimist yet ultra-practical caricaturist now refuses to waste your time as well as hers, telling you about her other crazy pursuits.

That’s all for now, friends. I hope to return with Robert de Niro‘s caricature soon 🙂

The Caricaturist Returns from Atlantis – with Fins and Gills!

I see that the blog has been as active as ever  and that the caricatures have been doing their bit to keep this place busy. Thank you my Dear Caricatures. My special thanks to:

This morning, I found myself bobbing up and down in the swimming pool of Hyatt Regency. I was semi-conscious and dressed in what can best be described an aquatic gear. But what the staff at the hotel truly found surprising was that I had sprouted fins and gills. I guess it comes from spending the last two weeks in the City of Atlantis. The fins and the gills are gradually reducing in size…even the webs that had grown between my fingers are shrinking! This means that I should be able to draw more caricatures soon!

More later…I am still not able to breathe properly in dry air, I need to dunk my head in a water jar to get my oxygen…

See you soon:)

Plans of New Celebrity Caricatures go Awry – The Caricaturist has been whisked away to Atlantis!

I had plans.

I had my heart set on drawing Robin Williams, Will Smith, and even Paris Hilton. But last evening my mobile rang, my plans overheard my conversation with the being on the other end, and they tossed themselves into the bin!

The call was from Atlantis, the lost world. Imagine my surprise when I heard that aqua-cool voice on the phone tell me that I was invited to talk to a group of engineers at AquaPower Corporation. After I got over my shock, I asked them if they were sending a jet to fetch me – because I didn’t know if any of the regular flights stopped over at Atlantis.

They told me that they were sending a submarine, which will arrive in my bathtub at 8:00 AM tomorrow morning – and that I should be ready and waiting.

So…

my dear precious readers,

the caricatures will have to wait. I hope to be back in the beginning of March…

See you then:)

Love,

Shafali