Tail o' the Rat

Slow Parking Lot Walkers

2009-12-14T13:25:00.001-08:00

Maybe you're swinging by the store to pick up some bread. Or picking up dry cleaning. Or meeting a friend for lunch. There's plenty of parking, yet your path is blocked by Slow Parking Lot Walkers.
I'm not talking about someone who's slow because he has a bad knee (or any condition that slows down) . I mean the average parking lot walker who strolls (or waddles) in front of your car, without looking.
C'mon, I think, Let's go! Ikimasho!* The store closes in five hours, ya know!
I have two conflicting theories about Slow Parking Lot Walkers:

They are evil, selfish boors who think they're more important than anyone else. They like to annoy mild-mannered innocents like myself.
Since they're approaching the store, they're preoccupied with what they need there (Okay, I need a can of coffee, burger buns, Sloppy Joe Mix...) and/or what's going to happen when they get home (...when the food's simmering I can pay the bills and go over the checkbook etc...) to the point that they aren't paying attention to their surroundings.

My second theory is the most likely. My evidence?
When I park my car (after wishing childishly hateful things on the Slow Parking Lot Walkers,) I think things like Did I forget anything on the shopping list? Should I get fresh butter? Do I have enough soda**? Do I want to cook dinner or just pop something in the microwave- shoot- gotta check my online statement to make sure... as I stroll to the store, slowly, not watching where I'm going.

*Japanese for "let's go!" and probably not correctly used in this context.
**Actually Tropicana or Minute Maid light lemonade.

Ganderdalf the Grey Tries out His New Wand

2009-12-11T15:56:00.000-08:00

I had fun drawing this.
Then, before posting, I thought Aw come on. I bet both the name and the gag have been used a zillion times. You've committed cryptomnesia!
Then I ran both through Google.
One match for "Ganderdalf" as a throwaway joke on some message board. No matches for "wand kicks like a mule". In the Googleverse, wands seem to "kick ass," often near other things that "kick like a mule."
I think I'm safe.
Wait- have I seen those trees before??

Tiny Tim's Tongue

2009-12-10T20:51:00.000-08:00

I can't act, but that didn't keep me out of a community theater adaptation of A Christmas Carol once. I'd volunteered to be an extra, but got a small speaking part when someone else backed out at the last minute.
The kid who played Tiny Tim could act, and was cute. He was also a brat. The best part of rehearsal was his death scene. If you remember the story, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come shows Scrooge a bleak future, where innocent little Tiny Tim has died. The family gathers around his body. His father sobs "My poor little, little Tiny Tim!"
And poor, little , little Tiny Tim would stick his tongue out. Everyone cracked up laughing. His mom shouted for him to knock it off. Yet each time they practiced the scene, out came the tongue.
I'm not sure how they got him to play the scene straight in front of the audience. Maybe they chloroformed him.

Geek Hair

2009-12-06T18:24:00.001-08:00

Work has kept me remarkably busy. Late nights, weekends, and every meal at my desk.
When this happens, I get Geek Hair. I don't have time to style it properly and end up looking like a wacked out mad scientist. It's all over the place. No clip, bobby pin or scrunchy will tame it.
Do you ever suffer from Geek Hair?

Mr. Chicken

2009-11-28T05:12:00.000-08:00

I created Mister Chicken as a joke.
It was 2001 and I shared an apartment with a vegetarian friend. He took it seriously, shunned leather, and even disliked Tofurkey (a turkey substitute made from tofu) because it "Tasted too much like flesh."
He surprised me one day by saying he'd gone out last night and eaten Hot Wings. Hot Wings! It was so out of character that I drew a chicken with hooks where his feet and wings should be. He glared out accusingly and said "I know what YOU did!"

The Face in the Corner

2009-11-26T15:45:00.000-08:00

I quit ballet as a kindergartner. I told my folks I didn't like it. I lied.
I liked ballet lessons- the tights, the tutu, the little shoes. I could pretend I was pretty and graceful. I remember doing toe exercises at the bar as music played from an old record player with wooden parts. Each class ended with a mini hula lesson, complete with crunched plastic leis in crayon colors. Best of all, after each class you got a jelly bean! I loved it.
Then I saw The Face.
It was a quarter-sized flaw in a ceiling corner. A mix of peeled, paint, cracks, and water damage. It was puckered and scary looking. Each time we danced around the room, there it was! I was old enough to know it was harmless, that it was "only" plaster. Yet there it was, looking at me each time I passed it.

Soon, the Face in the Corner overshadowed the whole class. Who cared about fancy outfits, music, hula or jelly beans when there was that awful face waiting for me! I knew sharing this fear with adults would get me nowhere. Just a It's your imagination and it can't hurt you lecture. Instead I said I didn't want to be a ballerina anymore.
No more music, no more tutu, no more scary face in the corner.

The Exception

2009-11-15T13:23:00.000-08:00

There's an old notion that it's dangerous to stand near a speeding train because you'll get "sucked under the wheels." Not so, say the experts. I think they even did a Mythbusters episode where they parked a manikin near the tracks and let the trains roll. It survived.
Leave it to me to be the exception.
As a teen, my family sometimes took the train down to a day at the beach. I spent the day coasting the waves on a orange foam Boogie Board. It was almost as big as I was. A rubber and Velcro tether kept it leashed to my wrist. This came in handy: if a monster wave came I could duck under it without losing the board.
It was on dry land when things went wrong. We stood on the grass, waiting for the train home. One stopped, but when I got close I could see it wasn't the right one, and stepped back.
I didn't step back far enough. The train pulled away, creating a breeze that lifted my board like a kite. This was funny until I realized it was pulling me forward too. The train sped faster, and I found myself being tugged harder, hopping forward so as not to fall over.
I yelled and my dad pulled me away. I can't say for sure if I'd have been sucked under the train, but my board certainly would have. At the very least I'd have gone for a ride.

Don't Let the Train Hit You

2009-11-08T18:45:00.000-08:00

"Be safe near the rails!" the public service message babbled over railroad sound effects.
Thanks for the warning, I thought. Who'd have guessed that crossing in front of a speeding freight train was, in fact, bad?
"Every two hours someone in the United States is struck by a train..." the add continued.
Every two hours? That's nuts!
A train isn't something that sneaks up on you. They're big and loud. They shake the ground. Their horn is an ear splitting bleat. Trains trigger bells and lights when they approach roads. If you still can't figure out a train is on the way, bowing crossbars are often proved.
Train don't go on chaotic rampages, like rogue elephants. Their path is predictable. They stay on the rails.
Why were people getting creamed by something so obvious? Every two hours?
I Googled some safety sites to find out.
Here's the scoop:

Humans are terrible at judging the speed of approaching objects. It's a dangerous illusion. One second the choo choo seems to be gliding along in the distance, a second later, Wham!
A a camera's eye view of a approaching train demonstrates this:

Trains are not always noisy. Newer tracks lack the clickity clikity sound effect. Stealth trains.
They're much wider than the tracks. My source says they can stick out as much as three feet beyond the rails.
People aren't paying attention. I can see this. I'm walking (or driving) with my brain moored in the future*- what needs to be done, the lunch I'm looking forward to, should swing by the store to pick up a loaf of [insert sound of me being smacked by a train].
More than one set of tracks. People focus on getting around train A and get blindsided by train B.
People forget that something that weighs 5000+ tons and going 60 miles per hour can't stop the way a car does.

And, of course:

People can be reckless. This includes anyone who:

Tries to race the train.
Crosses or fishes from(!) railroad bridges.
Walks on the tracks (At one crossing I saw a guy wearing Walkman headphones as he strolled down the tracks. The lights were blinking, the bells were dinging, and the horn was blasting and he was oblivious! He noticed and got out of the way seconds before it roared by. )
People who drive around lowered gates. What are they thinking? I can't wait for a train now! If I'm late they'll kill me!

*"My brain is moored in the future"- hmmm... that line came to easy. I hope I didn't lift it with via cryptomnesia.

It's Tough to be a Snake.

2009-11-05T14:03:00.000-08:00

I was born without the "snakes are creepy" gene.
Silverfish are creepy. Centipedes are creepy. Worms are creepy.
Not snakes. Since I was little, they were colorful ribbons of wonder. As a kid, I didn't get why people disliked them.
I knew some snakes were trouble. Rattlesnakes, for example. They sometimes wandered into our quasi-rural yard and promptly got whacked by my dad's shovel. I felt a little bad for them, but their fang baring, tail buzzing shtick (and the fact that they could hurt you) didn't make them sympathetic.
What shocked me was that some neighbors gave any snake the shovel. I couldn't believe it. They know those aren't rattlesnakes. I thought. Why are they killing them? That's mean!
I checked out some snake books at the library. I discovered the truth.
Most of the world hated snakes.
The books pointed out that most were harmless, and in fact, beneficial. People either didn't understand this, or didn't care. One book had a realistic drawing of a man attacking a harmless one with a shovel. This upset me. That's not fair, I thought, fighting tears. The snake didn't do anything wrong!

Wiggle-Grams

2009-11-02T08:28:00.000-08:00

A Wiggle-Gram is an animated gif of two alternating stereo images. The result enhances depth.
Here's some I made from old images I found on the web:

The first two are from autochromes (very early color pics) I found here:

Here's another autochrome from 1915

I like the last one the best. Part of my mind classifies 1915 as black and white fossilized age, of sorts, very different from the "real" world I live in. But Miss Autochrome in the chair looks as real as any of my neighbors and could have been photographed yesterday.

Like wigglegrams? Check out these ones someone put together from old stereo photos from Japan.

Phantom Footsteps (sorta)

2009-10-31T15:36:00.001-07:00

You might think my place is haunted. Day and night you often hear the thump-thump-thump of people going up the steps. But no one's there!
Oh yeah, and there's no stairway at my place either.
There are lots of stairs on the building next door. We're separated by a fence and yard, but I can hear (and feel) my neighbors' footsteps clearly.
That being said, if my building did have steps, and if I believed in ghosts (I don't), it would be easy to think something spooky was going on. "I hear people going up and down the stairs all the time," I'd say. "but when I look, nobody is there."

Third Blogaversary

2009-10-27T12:46:00.000-07:00

October 26th marked the third anniversary of Tail o' the Rat.
Over the past year I chased mice, was reunited with the Crack Monster (whom I hadn't seen in three decades), made a Flash cartoon, started another, and drew a bunch of pictures.
According to my stat counter, the blog has been visited 68,575 times by 52,826 unique visitors since it debuted ...
...okay, some of these visits were triggered by bots and search engine misfires.
I never said I was picky.

Secrets of the Green Fairy

2009-10-25T09:26:00.000-07:00

Some call absinthe "la fée verte" or "The Green Fairy." Popular culture has personified the fairy as an enchanted muse who unlocks creativity:

Or ensures a mind bending good time*:

The magic ingredient is wormwood. More specifically, a chemical in wormwood called thujone. For years it was considered a hallucinogen. However, recent studies show:

1. Whoops, it's not a hallucinogen, and
2. Whoops, the old time versions of the drink didn't have that much thujone in the first place.

So what's with this Green Fairy stuff?
It's likely other additives- toxic green dyes, for example, caused hallucinations.
So is the drink's legendary magic reduced to bad artificial coloring? Perhaps the the psychedelic part is. But what about the creativity enhancement?
Traditionally, absinthe isn't something you drink like tequila shots or pour over ice. There's a near ceremony you're supposed to follow. Special glass. A special slotted spatula that fits on top of the glass that holds a sugar cube. You pour water over the cube, so sugar water trickles into the absinthe below. Or swap the water for fire. That's right. Spike the cube with some extra absinthe, light it on fire, and drop it into the drink (since the stuff can be up to 75% alcohol, well, good luck with that*...)
Does all this fancy prep prime your brain to think this stuff must be special! Do people experience creativity because they expect to experience it? It wouldn't surprise me. The Green Fairy could be the Placebo Fairy.

*Is it just me, or did they rip off this famous Robert Abel & Associates 7up commercial?

**in the unlikely even someone reads this, burns down the house and tries to sue me, I might add that setting flammable things on fire, is, in fact, dangerous. While I'm at it, stay off subway tracks, and don't tease anything with teeth.

Big Beak

2009-10-21T14:20:00.001-07:00

When a strange, long beaked bird showed up at my window feeder, I thought a new species had touched town. Sparrows and House Finches were my regular customers. What bird was this?
I had a better look. He was a House finch with an overgrown lower beak. The top was tiny and misshapen. The bottom three inches long and stuck out like a sword.
I named him Big Beak. I suspect he'd damaged his upper bill long ago, so it wasn't big enough to provide the pressure to keep his lower beak trimmed. You'd think this would make it tough for him to eat. It didn't.
Anyone who maintains a feeder knows that the birds squabble over who gets to eat and who has to wait. Not Big Beak. All he'd do was brandish his pointy bill. Bullies backed off! He was free to eat all he wanted. He'd use his super-sized beak like a scoop to shovel up the cracked sunflower kernels.
I'm sure Big Beak didn't realize anything was wrong with him. He probably figured he was Alpha bird and that was that. If he thought like a human, he might obsess about how "stupid" his beak looked. How "everyone judged him" because of his beak. How his life was ruined because of his beak...

Painter Pattern Pen Basics.

2009-10-17T15:05:00.000-07:00

Some of you were curious about Corel Painter's Pattern Pens, and how I used them.
Here's the scoop.

The pen takes a pattern:

And spreads lit along your brush stroke as if you were unrolling wallpaper:

But this wallpaper can do curves.
It can grow and shrink depending on how hard you press:

Painter comes with default patterns.
Here's some from Painter 8:

And here are some custom ones I made:

They're pretty easy to make.
Launch Corel Painter. Open an existing image or create a new one.
Then select the part you want to be your pattern.
In the example below (click for larger image), I selected the "hello", then I opened the pattern window (control F9), clicked the little triangle in the upper right corner, and picked "capture pattern".
A new menu appears, asking you to name the pattern. Type a name. You're done.

From the brush selection menu, pick Pattern Pens > Pattern Pen.
Then select your new pattern in the pattern menu.
Play around with the pen. You'll notice left to right strokes reproduce it right side up.
(Right to left strokes put it upside down!)

This works great on a white background, but if you put it in front of a darker background, you'll see the white background is part of the pattern too.

There's several ways to save your pattern without the background.
The easiest way is to select the white area (be sure contiguous isn't selected,) then invert the selection (Shift+Control I). Then go back to the Patterns menu and select "Capture Pattern."
Then, in the brush selection area, switch from Pattern Pen to Pattern Pen Masked.
The "background" is gone!

If you look closely, you'll notice this pattern has white edges. Some of the background is leaking in!

If it bothers you, here's the workaround:

Go back to the original "hello" image and select the white area (as you did before), and invert the selection. Now select none (Control+D) and fill your entire image with the same color as your pattern*
The image should look like a red rectangle, but if you reselect (Ctrl+Shift+D), your outline will reappear. Capture it as a pattern. You're in business!

The latter technique only works with Pattern Pen Masked. The regular pattern pen will draw it as a red ribbon.

*Also note that the deselect-fill-reselect-capture trick works best when your pattern is either one color or composed of similar colors. There's ways to get rid of the white edge for more colorful masked patterns. I'll tell you if you're curious.

Dumb Dream at 5003 Feet.

2009-10-17T12:55:00.000-07:00

Terrifying dreams are called nightmares.
Annoying dreams should be called night jackasses.
Those happen all the time. They're stale, inconsistent, confusing, rambling. They tumble on like a bad joke with no punchline. The car won't steer. The phone won't dial. Teeth crumble. Details change. Things seem off. Yet you rarely think, Gee, this makes no sense. I bet it's a dream!
For example:

A little boy was stuck in a runaway hot air balloon. How would they get him down? Would he freeze? Crash? Then it wasn't a hot air balloon but a flying mushroom. But now it was crooked and scraping the ground. How could a kid fit in there? Except he wasn't in there. He'd vanished. Then he hadn't vanished!
He was everywhere!
Each time I turned the T.V. or radio, there was the kid who was supposed to be in the balloon but wasn't, and his creepy family. Except now they were the family from a television show. Huh?
Inexplicably, the they wouldn't go away! Television, radio and the internet were infested. Mumbling and puking sounds were prominent. Dad mentioned lizard people. What nonsense was this!?

I think I understand why I don't notice that I'm dreaming.

I Love the Pattern Pen

2009-10-11T14:06:00.001-07:00

Painter's Pattern Pen is a fun toy.
If you've never played with it before, start playing!

Louis Wain Tribute II

2009-10-04T14:35:00.001-07:00

I drew another tribute to Louis Wain, who specialized in drawing cats. He's best remembered for artsy ones he designed with wallpaper patterns. For decades it was speculated that he had schizophrenia, but I always thought the intense detail in his "wallpaper" drawings suggested some type of autistic disorder.
Sure enough, Many now believe he had Asperger's syndrome.
See? SEE?

"...Louis Wain did not have schizophrenia but Asperger’s syndrome. It is very easy to confuse somebody with odd beliefs with schizophrenia and to think that these odd beliefs are formal thought disorder...
...There is little doubt that he was a very eccentric if brilliant artist. He was also interested in mathematics, insects, bird skins, perceptual motion, science, and mechanical objects...
...He was bullied in school as many people with Asperger’s syndrome are. He spoke with an unusual tone of voice. He had preservation of sameness. He was interested in music and was very obsessional. He was very naïve. He did go through a paranoid psychotic period just like Isaac Newton but the fundamental diagnosis was Asperger’s syndrome. "

-from the above link (scroll down to second article to see it).

"I Bite"

2009-10-03T14:10:00.000-07:00

Macheath wasn't for sale. He was the meanest, most misanthropic creature in the pet shop. Even the love bird who'd been half blinded by a mean customer (who sprayed cleaning fluid in his face) was more trusting.
I met Macheath the summer I worked there. Both his cage and his play perch were marked with "I bite!" signs. He "only" a Severe Macaw- about half the size of the more common ones. That didn't stop him from attacking anyone foolish enough get too close. Even the owner of the shop couldn't handle him.
Macheath was cute. And curious. His favorate game was watching me sweep around his pearch. As soon as I put down the broom he'd swing his beak through his dish and scatter more food for me to sweep. Was he trying to be funny? Trying to help? Was he trying to make sure I'd stick around?
I talked to him each day and he gradually let me get closer. I knew better than to put my finger near his head. Years earlier another macaw showed me why this was a bad idea. Then one day he rolled his head forward and puffed out his feathers. That's bird language for "You're my friend. Scratch my head please." I couldn't believe it. The mean bird who hated everyone was letting me pet him!

Sucko and the Salmon

2009-09-30T14:10:00.000-07:00

I've been frying up trout and salmon for dinner lately.
My recipe is simple.
1. Coat the fillet with Cajun Seasoning.
2. Fry it in a cast iron skillet with melted butter.*
3. Open the kitchen door so the smoke alarm doesn't go off.
4. Fish is ready when the thickest part flakes and doesn't look like sashimi.

I never liked salmon until I started cooking it this way. I decided to expand to other fish. First up was catfish.
It lacked the meaty texture of salmon and trout. In fact, the meat seemed strangely familiar. Light and delicate like...
...every smelly decomposing fish I'd handled in my tropical fish shop days! This shouldn't be on my plate I thought, this is what I find when I lift up tank decorations and discover what's drifted underneath. Yecch!
Then I remembered Sucko. He was a suckermouth catfish I had about ten years ago. He had funny underslung lips so he could suction himself to rocks (or vegetables I provided) to slurp up food. There was something silly, almost cartoonlike about him: the goofy lips, the googly eyes...
He grew quite large over the years, and when he died he was too big to flush.
It's Sucko!I couldn't shake the thought. How can I eat a Sucko?
I won't be frying up catfish anytime soon.

*olive oil works too. Yes, it's fattening, but I just eat the fillet for dinner. No bread, no veggies, no salad or desert. The trade off is worth it.

Chronic Honkers

2009-09-27T08:56:00.000-07:00

Ever ride with someone who hits the horn more than they hit the foot pedals?
Chrissie is a chronic honker. Woe to the cad in front of her who doesn't accelerate the millisecond the light turns green! Woe to the scoundrel who dares to pass in front of her!
The honk of wrath shall fall on their ears!
I'm not sure how to classify it. Paranoid? Childish?
Once a car in front of her stopped to drop someone off. There was nowhere to pull over so they had to stop in the street, slowing down Chrissie for several seconds.
She leaned into the horn like she was deploying a weapon.
"C'mon," I said. "They're dropping a guy off. It's not like traffic's backing up-"
"They're blocking my way!" she huffed, hitting the horn a few extra times. I was mortified.
Even those who don't block her way may still risk her honk. Once she gave a sound honking to some chump who turned into the wrong lane. I didn't think it was that big of a deal since

It was very early and there was no other traffic.
He was in the opposite lane and in no danger to us.

"Why'd you honk at him?" I said.
"He's not supposed to do that!" she said.

I avoid getting in Chrissie's car at all costs.

Silverfish

2009-09-26T09:52:00.000-07:00

Silverfish are creepy. They make slugs look cuddly.
Who hasn't opened an old book or magazine and had a mummified one drop in their lap?
Their silvery sheen and Art Nouveau curves can't override their powers to freak people out.

Exclusive: Interview with my Cockatiel, Tosca!

2009-09-19T17:16:00.001-07:00

Interviewer: Namowal says you're cranky and prone to biting. Is this true?

Tosca: So a bird can't bite someone once in awhile? What's the big deal?

Interviewer: Why do you bite? Does she scare you?

Tosca: Nah. I only bite her when she makes me mad.

Interviewer: She makes you mad?

Tosca: Oh yes. Mostly it's her hands. They're always trying to pat my head or make me perch on them. Who wants to perch on some stupid hand? So I tell her to quit it, and if she doesn't quit, I'll bite.

Interviewer: You talk to her?

Tosca: Sure. I talk to her in CL. Cockatiel Language. If I step back, flash my eyes and open my beak, that means stop that now or I'll bite. Namowal ignores the warning each time. So I show her some beak.

Interviewer: Namowal once had another cockatiel. Tell me about Quasi.

Tosca: I'm glad he's dead! I never liked him. He was a jerk. An ugly jerk with a jacked up lower bill. Always acting tough with me. And he'd totally kiss up to Namowal. He'd let her pet and cuddle him! It was disgraceful.

Interviewer: Is it true you once peeled a price tag off and glued your mouth shut? That Namowal had to take you to the vet to fix things?

Tosca: I suppose you never did anything stupid when you were young?

Interviewer: You realize that Namowal gives you food and water everyday?

Tosca: Big whup. Like I couldn't find food on my own! It's insulting!

Interviewer: Is there anything positive you can say about Namowal?

Tosca: Well, she plays a musical instrument I really like. Real loud and shrieky- I always sing along. A bagpipe like thing, except the air intake is by an internal fan instead a mouthpiece. She plays it by my cage each day. I think it's called "A Hoover".

**Bonus Pic**
Below is the original drawing I uploaded. Something's wrong. It's been fixed in the top picture. Can you spot the difference?

Starlings

2009-09-15T13:23:00.000-07:00

I'm not supposed to like starlings.
Most books will tell you what a wretched piece of crap this bird is. Usually something like:
"The European Starling is considered a pest, and included here only to help you repel it. One of the least loved backyard birds, these dumpy, screechy, greedy creatures ..."
The trouble started in the 1890s when Eugene Schieffelin introduced a few modest flocks (from England) in New York*. Now there's millions of them in North America. Their rap sheet includes:

raiding cattle feedlots (they eat the cow food, not the cows)
evicting bluebirds and woodpeckers from nesting cavities
smacking into airplanes
hogging all the food at the birdfeeder
making a mess

How hated are they? They're one of the few birds you can legally shoot, poison or beat to death. Even some people who consider themselves bird lovers have no problem killing this bird.
I enjoy starlings. I shouldn't, but I do. They're cute. I like their spots and iridescent feathers. I like their raspy voice and the way they flap their wings and puff out their neck feathers when they sing. I like how they collect shiny objects and get into mischief.
I like how I can watch them in so many places- parks, parking lots, or from my window.
I know they're bad, but I can't resist them.

*Popular lore says this was part of a plan to introduce all birds mentioned by Shakespeare to North America!

Face

2009-09-13T13:32:00.001-07:00

I rarely draw cartoons of humans, and when I do, I usually use a mirror or a reference.
I tried this one from without either.
I used an underdrawing to help place the features but they still seem a bit floaty.

Update (self-critique a day later):
Left eye too big, right too small and too high up,
Nose too big and turned too right,
Mouth should be more forward.
Shading incomplete, awkward.
Hair details a bit sloppy...
And as I observed yesterday, the features seem to float.

I'm not playing the I'm a baaaad artist! Please tell me I'm good! game here. It's tricky to draw human heads. At least with life drawing I can hold out a pencil and measure proportions. For Cartoon Girl I cobbled together what I remembered about eyes, skulls, noses.
When I look at a really good cartoon- even if it's very stylized- the features seem anchored and interconnected. How the heck do they DO this?