Maybe next Owltober I won’t be sick! There are four more owls in the works and that’s it for Owltober for me. I feel bad that I fell behind, but I best get back to the daily sketches on this blog soon.

For those not in the know, Blathers runs the local museum here in Wild World. He has a fear of bugs.

The Business Owl can be found lurking alarmingly close to the water. He survives primarily on low alcohol beer, as well as the occasional “crazy” night out involving vodka and soda. He lures unsuspecting females of the species with his power tie, which matches the flair on his hat.

This fellow has been captured leering at some particularly impressive tail feathers. Although this owl works quite hard at securing a mate, almost to the detriment of all other areas in its life, they are rather promiscuous. The females mate for life and are none the wiser when they are dragged back unconscious to his square nest.

His mating song is provided courtesy of the Lewis McCullum band.

Still behind after being sick, this is actually a real owl (whether it kills pigs or not is a moot point really). The call comes from its signature cry of “Morepork”. There’s one near Frank’s house here in New Zealand.

Illustration board and acetate and paints! Frank’s story:

Arohnda is the owl equivalent of a 1950s girl waiting to be asked to prom. She will get asked, probably by someone at the lower end of the second social tier. Maybe an English whiz, but she isn’t too worried as long as he has the Buddy Holly glasses. This is an extended metaphor about an owl, but in my opinion I have described its mating habits in quite a detailed fashion.

Arohnda

As you can see, in the bottom right hand corner. This is a piece by AKY. Whoops. Painted and inked on acetate with a fabric background bought from Geoff’s Emporium (the same place as the previous googly eyes). Frank’s story is up now:

The smile and ribbon belie the true nature of the Jezebelle owl. More accurate is the mink that she has stretched around her neck. Her eyes are the searing headlights on a 1970s wrought iron Chevy truck and you are the baby deer. She changes her bow regularly in order to contrast with the outfits made from the leftovers of her victims.

Sorry, I’ve been sick all week and I’m woefully behind on Owltober. I’ll be at Armageddon Pulp Expo this weekend in Auckland on Sunday afternoon and Monday. I’ll also be at Kraftbomb in Grey Lynn on Sunday morning. Some of these owls will be for sale as well as a minicomic of our various short stories (all of which you have probably seen). Here’s Frank’s owl story:

Bladebeak is known for his Bladebeak, a sharp spike of a beak more reminiscent of a metal triangle than of cartledge and bone. However, a particularly bombastic moment in time has been captured above. Bladebeaks undergo a genesis when they reach a certain undisclosable age (it has sworn us to secrecy). For a solitary moment, they witness the beginning of time. They are unable to communicate this to us because it is beyond all comprehension. This sadly includes their own comprehension, as you can see by the vacant expression, slack tongue and googly eyes on this specimen.

Scrumpy is a unique breed of owl that has come to love human conveniences. Sadly, when a human gets tactile with Scrumpy, he lashes out and mutters incomprehensibly, apparently in a tongue that resembles spanish, except without any of the vowels. As a result he has unfortunately become known as the “hobo owl”. Even more unfortunate is that he is primarily found in cities and subsists off human scraps, generally the dregs of discarded beer and brandy bottles. Prior to human contact, Birdologists believe that Scrumpy ate other birds.

The last two pieces have been on canvas pad, this one is on an honest to god stretched canvas bought from an art supply store! What a rare and terrifying thing! Here is Frank’s story:

Little Crumpet is blessed with many attributes considered desirable amongst owls. These include a nice symmetrical plumage, sturdy feathers and immaculately tapered wings. However, his small stature and a “firm snout”, as it is known in the animal kingdom, works to his disadvantage. Although his beak is sturdy with a low centre of gravity and superior tendon strength, it is considered misshapen by other species of owls. But do not despair for poor little Crumpet, he has already found a partner and they are very happy together!

I asked Frank to write a short story for each of my Owltober entries. Here it is:

Betsy is ever so slightly on edge this fine spring morning. Her usual joyous trip to the florist was not without its trifles today, as the usual pansies she regularly uses to garnish her hat were nowhere to be found! Instead her hat is almost toppling under the weight of the rare blue daisy that the florist said went so well with her elegant pink bowler. To top it off, she became so flustered she did not notice the price tag and now she may not have enough change for her morning commute on the Owltown Train! Poor little Betsy!

Owls!