A picture says a thousand words. No wonder my brain exploded…
Love, B. Nice
February 6, 2024
Man, has the world ever changed! This is the blog where I talk about the past.
Paris is not what it used to be. I used to sit in the cafe and draw people that were around me. Above is an example of people I saw. The people I saw would inspire me to make cartoons like the ones you see here. Alas, the world has changed. No longer do we have the cafes like we used to. I used to love to sit there. Start with coffee and then work my way into early evening when I’d have a beer … or two … or three … and then work my way home. Paris was fun. I had a great time. I did a lot of street photography. I would go out until the late hours of the night and photograph the streets and the people on the streets.
Here’s another cartoon from one of my journals. My friend here pulled it out. I love it when she goes to my case and pulls out a journal from the past. This cartoon is from a shoot I did in Aspen, Colorado. I was there during the summer. It was peak season for mountain bike riding. So I decided, like a young idiot, to spend all my money on a mountain bike. It was a nice bike, but I’d never been mountain bike riding. Man, did they have some mountains. I’ll tell ya, mountain bike riding is scary. You can get some speed going. I would say it borderlines on dangerous and reckless - but hey, my friend here said it’s right up my alley. I managed to get through the week without any major accident, but my friend who’s a fellow photographer also bought a mountain bike and showed up at dinner one night with a huge scar on his arm. I guess it says something about us photographers.
I was just thinking where that bike could be…just another adventure, and another foolish purchase.
Love and miss you guys.
Love, B. Nice
January 23, 2024
Bugger Boy.
That was the name of the children’s book I was working on. It was about a little boy who kept picking his nose because he produced so many boogers. The kid didn’t know what to do. The parents didn't know what to do. The kid just kept on producing buggers. So, finally, the kid just went with the flow and started making art out of his buggers. Bugger Art. He became very famous and his work was very valuable. Actually, now that I think about it, it probably would fly in the art world now. I mean, if a guy like Jeff Koons can be as successful as he is, Bugger Boy should be a big hit.
Anyway, the above drawing is from that book. The book never got made. It’s still sitting around here somewhere. I’ll tell you though, after spending a whole summer drawing buggers, you felt a little queasy by the fall. The above drawing us of the father trying to clean the buggers off the kid’s face. I get ill just thinking about it right now. The whole idea of Bugger Boy actually came from a writer. I forget her name, as it was so long ago, but we kind of collaborated on the project. I’m kind of concerned about myself, because I really got into it. Long live Bugger Boy.
Oh yeah, this was the page from one of my journals that my friend pulled out from one of my cases. I have cases and cases of journals. It was my way to relax. I used to love to draw on my downtime. I miss it. I still draw, but the work looks like the work of a three year old. I often use watercolors. One time I was painting with red watercolor. Not a good idea when you’re in a hospital. The nurses freaked out. They thought there was blood everywhere. It was just crimson red, Windsor Newton watercolor paint.
That’s all for this week. Love and miss you guys. Give me a call if you have my number. That’d be very cool. Hey! Guess what! I turned 63 the other day. Can you believe it? It’s either 63 or 36. I can’t remember. I think it’s 63, but I act like I’m 6.
Love, B. Nice
January 17, 2024
Hi everybody, welcome to my blog where I talk about my past. My friend here is now going to go to one of my suitcases and grab a diary. She’ll open it up to a page. I’ll include a copy here and talk about it.
So, my friend here got one of my diaries and opened up to this page.
So my dad was pretty awesome. He taught me how to ride horses, shoot, go camping, fishing, drive. All that sort of stuff. This drawing is from a camping trip he took me on. We rode one week into Wyoming and then one week back into Montana. I talked about it before in one of my previous blogs, but it was pretty awesome. The only problem was that my knees hurt like hell. When you don’t ride so often, the pain gets to you. Plus, I didn’t have any Tylenol or advil . The only thing I had was Jack Daniels. That seemed to work, but the horseback riding was not so good after that.
It was an amazing trip. One of my best memories was when we would stop for lunch, the animals around weren’t used to seeing people, so they just came right up to you. It was very cool. Birds would land next to me. Squirrels would come right up to me. Thank God there were no bear around! We saw markings from bear, but never saw any bear.
On the trip, I carried two cameras with me. One with a 35 mm lens and the other with a 50 mm lens. They were all Leica's. I’ll include a photo I took on this trip. It was a great memory. Oh yeah, my horseback riding is just OK, the real rider in my family is my sister. It was a great camping trip. I highly suggest you do it if you can. The name of the company is: Press Stephens Outfitters (http://www.pressstephensoutfitting.com). Check it out.
That’s all for this week. I’m gonna keep it short. Check out the photo. It’s pretty cool.
Love, B. Nice
December 26, 2023
Hi everybody. Welcome to my blog where I talk about my past.
Hey! Happy Boxing Day. It’s December 26th, The day after Christmas. Boxing Day. I learned what Boxing Day is from my first wife. She was British. You see, imagine places like Downton Abbey. The Staff would have Christmas Day the day after Christmas. They called it Boxing Day. They had to work over Christmas, but they had their day after Christmas. Just a little trivia for you.
Above is a photograph of one of my camera cases. It was one of 14 pieces of luggage I carried with me on my jobs. It kind of shows how crazy my life was. I initially learned to do this from a photographer I worked for in New York City. It’s a good way for your bags to stand out at the airport baggage claim. It’s kind of hard for someone to run off with your bag when it looks like this, not to mention that it is a little heavy. It was fun though. It was a record of where I’ve been. Some stickers when I see them bring joy, but other stickers make my stomach flip around. Either way, it was a good measure of my life. Man, when I look at it, each sticker has a story. I’ll just pick one out for now.
There’s a sticker of France there. Man I loved it there. I lived in France for a couple of years. I did the starving young artist thing. I did a lot of editorial, magazine work, but made no money. There was the odd advertising or catalog job here or there. But most of my jobs were magazine work, and paid no money. It was a great lifestyle though. I got to meet some amazing people. Go to some amazing places. It was like a long party there. I’ll tell you, now I see why the editors at the magazine stay at the magazine so long. They had a great lifestyle. We went to great restaurants, great locations. And on top of it all, they got paid well for it. I get it now. The editors always liked to work with young talent. I was kind of the same. I liked to work with new people. Their enthusiasm was always intoxicating. I kind of still live like that now. It’s a good vibe working with new people. The established talent are always a bit difficult and prima donna-like.
I think I told you this story before, but I had to get a photograph of a model jumping off a pier into the water. Well the model enthusiastically jumped off the pier. She didn’t reappear, She went straight to the bottom. I said, “Holy shit!” threw all my equipment to my assistant and jumped in after her. I pulled her up to the top and I said, Oh man, do you know how to swim?! She said No! and I said, why did you jump in? She replied, well…I wanted to get a good shot for you. Now that’s dedication, and a prima donna wouldn’t do that.
Love, B. Nice