A couple of days ago, my Uncle Chuck passed away at the too young age of 70. He was a good guy with an adventurous spirit and filled with childlike wonder. He was a creative guy who did cartoons, had his own dark room in his basement when he was into photography and one who I could talk to about all things art, movies, politics, history and music. We could agree on so much, but when we didn't, I think we could understand where each was coming from.
He was also up for all sorts of activities. Back when I was in my mid twenties and he was in his mid forties he would come out with me and my friends and play paintball in the woods. Age wasn't a problem for any of us, they accepted him and he accepted them. And we had a blast.
There was no one in the family who supported me more with my artistic endeavors. He never passed up a chance to read my cartoons, give me a quick critique if there was something obviously off (which happened quite a bit), but most important of all, he got them. I guess he was ok with my weirdness. And soon, I liked my weirdness.
He and my Aunt Janeen were the ones that I talked music with. They turned me on to so much coolness and we spent holidays and other family gatherings talking about what we were currently listening to, old favorites and all that. I don't think I'll ever find someone to talk to that was as passionate about music and talking about music than he was.
He was a smart guy who never stopped learning and having a good time. He will be missed.
A sketch that my Uncle did for me when I was ten. You can see the tiny sketch to the right where I began a copy.
My Uncle and his wife during better times.
Another set of sketches done on the same day as the above one. Here he was doing up some characters, such as Archie and Rat Fink. I think the soft lead doodle to the left is one of my shabby attempts. I think that he was trying to instill some Mag Magazine influences upon me at this time in my life. It didn't take too much coercing.