Planet Web-Head

Welcome to my Online Portfolio...
Thank you for taking a look, I hope you enjoy!

This is a sample of some of the comic book work that I have done. Primarily I see myself as a writer, but I also very much enjoy visual arts, and have a very firm grasp on graphic design. I really enjoy telling a story visually.

Occupy Metropolis

Ghost (Pages from Dark Horse Comics' sample script)

Gem of the Dragon Queen - These are a few screenshots from a fantasy RPG video game that I designed. The characters, story, and setting are all original. The visual look is close to what I wanted, but is limited by the software. I did manage to find and use a few hacks that enabled me the means necessary to achieve a closer representation of what I had in my head, despite those limitations.

Here is a video trailer for a comic that I wrote and draw -Secrets in the Ashes- This video features music from Lykke Li.

Stop-Motion Animation Tribute - A stop-motion tribute to one of my favorite movies. I fabricated the set-pieces using acrylic plastic and LED Christmas lights. Effects were achieved using smoke/fog, and a UV flashlight. I shot this video on iPhone 6 using a stop-motion app and a tripod. This was done with limited resources, but in a professional setting, things like this could be reproduced to achieve something truly breathtaking and special...

The Doom Trilogy - This last piece is an excerpt from a horror story that I am currently writing. I can honestly say that I feel as though this represents some of my best work as a writer. The idea that sprouted this story seemed tremendously powerful to me. The following is graphic and not suitable for younger or more sensitive readers...

Jake Goodwin parked his rental car near the corner of California and Grant. He sat in the driver’s seat for a moment reflecting on the bizarre path that had brought him to this point. He thought back to when he had first started writing for VICE several years ago, and how a piece entitled, “the Influence of Secret Societies in America” had lead him into a veritable rabbit-hole of notions which challenged his beliefs, ideals, and at times his very sanity. He remembered what it was like to be ignorant, and completely unaware of what went on behind closed doors in the highest places. He longed for that time, only so many years ago, when he had scoffed at the incoherent ramblings of conspiracy theorists, treating them as a source of personal amusement.

It was not all bad though. That same twisted path had introduced him to Ian Parker, and an unlikely friendship had formed between the two. In fact, Jake regarded Ian as a close friend and something of a brother after having shared so many strange and absurd experiences with him. Jake had even learned how to not only tolerate, but to even appreciate, Ian’s eccentric behavior. Ian had provided Jake with undeniable evidence of truly sinister and malevolent forces at play in the world at large. Not only did he completely alter Jake’s perception of reality forever, but he also gave him the material that would make up the bulk of his first book, as well as the basis for three controversial follow-ups.

Over the years Jake Goodwin’s literary works have been both acclaimed and refuted by critics, media figures, and religious groups. Pursuing the subjects that he did would earn him a good living over the years, and had indeed elevated him to celebrity-status for a time, though he would receive death threats that would force him to go into hiding. His texts had brought on the ire of several conservative religious groups, and a fatwa calling for his execution was issued by the Iranian government. On the other hand, conspiracy theorists and the counter-culture revered his work, and would often compare him to Che’ Guevara or Hunter S. Thompson.

As Jake thought about this, the fact that he had managed to keep his dignity pleased him. Most who work in the cultural sphere that he had written about are ridiculed and laughed off as a joke-a novelty, meant to entertain rather than inform. Jake Goodwin had successfully avoided falling into that category. His sources were always credible, and if anonymous, would provide concrete proof to substantiate their claims. He would provide the reader with fantastic tidbits of information, and lead them to draw their own conclusions. He had managed to broach many tricky subjects with eloquent tact, and sincere objectivity. Unbeknownst to others, this style of journalistic writing not only helped maintain his credibility, but also his sanity.

While Jake sat in the car reminiscing, he also thought of Andrew and Maddie Pierce, and how he’d met them in Aylesbury, Massachusetts the same time he had met Ian. Another rewarding friendship found in an unlikely place. Jake recalled the events that had transpired in the sleepy little New England town nearly a decade earlier, and shuddered. To this day he was still astounded that they all were able to walk away from that experience, and similar others that would follow for that matter. He thought of Andrew and Maddie, and of how they’d found each other amid all of the chaos, and managed to build something beautiful between them. He was happy for his friends, and hoped that all of the darkness that they had seen and shared was finally behind them.

He looked at the time on his phone, which read 2:31pm. The press conference would begin in a half-hour. He was pleased that he was able to arrive before they had closed the streets off. He even managed to arrive ahead of the local news crews, so he was able to get a great parking spot, and would not have to pay-to-park in the garage across the street. He watched as the police and standby crews started to arrive to close off the streets surrounding Old St. Mary’s Cathedral.

There was a tap on the window, and Jake turned to see a policeman. He rolled down his window and showed the officer his press-pass. The cop nodded and told him he could exit off of Grant after the event. Jake thanked him and rolled up the window. He took the keys out of the ignition, grabbed his messenger bag, cigarettes, and phone. He stepped out of the car, and into the rainy, San Francisco afternoon. As he crossed the street he remained skeptical as to whether he would get the interview he was promised.

The Fatima Prophecy would be the subject of his newest book. The story surrounding the prophecy was that a Marian apparition had appeared before a young Portuguese girl, and her two cousins, in 1917. Allegedly, the apparition had revealed three apocalyptic secrets to the children. Lucia Santos seemed to be most affected by the visions, and would later become a nun. She would disclose the first two “secrets” early on, but sealed the third in an envelope that was not to be opened until the year 1960. It is rumored that after Pope John XXIII first read the prophecy in 1960, he wept for the next three days. The text of the secret would not be released to the public until the year 2000, by Pope John Paul II. It was another hot-button conspiracy topic, and a large cross-section of people believed that there was something untrue or incomplete in the official text released by the Catholic Church. Jake had hoped to speak with the current pope regarding the prophecy’s possible connection to a series of strange events that he himself had witnessed.

Every attempt he made at getting an interview with Pope John Paul III had been met with resistance or ignored, until five days ago. After months of stonewalling, the Vatican contacted Jake, and told him that “His Holiness would like to personally invite you to a press conference at Old St. Mary’s Cathedral in San Francisco. He says that at the end of the press conference, he will answer any and all questions that you may have regarding the Fatima Prophecy”. Arrangements were made, and a package containing a press-pass was delivered to Jake overnight. He then booked his flight to San Francisco, and finalized his list of questions. After months of phone-tag, and endless emails, the day was finally here.

He continued crossing the street and walked up the steps leading to the church’s main entrance. The local media had begun to show up, and news anchors and camera crews began to unload their gear. Jake lit a cigarette as he watched them set up, and quickly noticed that people were staring at him like he had just gut-punched his grandmother. “Fucking California…” he murmured as he put the cigarette out, and shoved the butt back into his jacket pocket. He then looked up, as if to say “are you happy?” He shook his head and made his way closer to the main doors. He looked across the street, and noticing a Chinese Fortune Teller’s Shop, chuckled at what he thought an odd bit of irony, given its proximity to the cathedral.

By this time, camera crews and news anchors were all set and in place. A crowd had started to gather on the street, and after several minutes, San Francisco Police units arrived, cruising slowly as they acted escort to Pope John Paul III. The pope’s vehicle followed behind, with more police units behind it. People on the streets cheered and waved as the modified Mercedes Benz continued along with the rest of the procession. Jake had always thought it ridiculous that the pope should ride around in his own specially designed, bulletproof vehicle. Now there’s faith in action he thought to himself sarcastically.

The parade of police, bodyguards, and clergy gathered around as Pope John Paul III exited his vehicle, and ascended the concrete stairs. Bodyguards and clergy preceded him, opening the main doors and allowing the pope to enter the building before anyone else. Before going inside, Pope John Paul III turned and waved to the crowd. They returned waves and cheers, and watched as the pope genuflected before disappearing inside the cathedral, followed by his security and the swarming reporters.

Jake pushed his way inside along with everyone else, and was able to land a spot near the right side of the lectern, which was stationed at the center of the pulpit. After several minutes of commotion, the room grew quiet as everyone settled into their respective places. The crowded pews and hushed tone of the atmosphere reminded Jake of a courtroom. After another ten minutes or so of silence, the head of the parish emerged, and gave a longwinded introduction to the Archbishop and Head of the Diocese, who in turn began another, equally longwinded introduction.

“Good afternoon everybody, it is my great pleasure to welcome you all to Old St. Mary’s Cathedral today. I would like to thank Father Boland for his introduction, and would also like to thank the Vatican and Archdiocese for bringing us all together, here today, to celebrate and share our faith with the Holy Father at his request. We are humbled and honored to receive His Holiness here at our beloved St. Mary’s today. I would also like to thank the members of the San Francisco Police Department who are here today, as well as you members of the press for coming here to cover this momentous occasion. It is now my distinct honor, pleasure, and privilege to introduce to you and welcome, His Holiness, John Paul the Third, Pope of the Holy See…”

As the Archbishop finished his introduction, he turned and began clapping with other clergy while an elderly man, garnered in the traditional white vestments of his office replaced him at the podium. He had a large, thick, yellow envelope in his hands, which he placed on the podium, after producing his speech from it. It still looked full, as if it contained a large amount of documents, or perhaps a bible or some other thick text. He waited for the applause to subside, and then Pope John Paul III put on his reading glasses, and began his speech. Though his Italian accent was certainly prevalent, it did not prevent him from speaking with pronounced clarity to his audience. He blessed the assembly and began speaking with a humble, almost depressed disposition.

“Thank you. Thank you Father Boland, and thank you Archbishop Delveccio and the San Francisco Archdiocese for your hospitality today. Dear friends, I thank you all for honoring my request, and for coming here today. Today is a very important day, and I am tasked with a most holy mission from the Heavenly Father. I have brought you here today in the hope that I may deliver a message to the other leaders of the faith, as well as help the people of the world.

One-Hundred years ago, a young girl in Portugal had a vision of the Holy Mother, and three secrets were revealed to her. She wrote the words of the secrets down, and they became known to the world as the ‘Secrets of Fatima’. Holy Mother Church has debated on the interpretation of these words for some time, but has always agreed on the ultimate meaning of the prophecy.

For many years, all institutions, including Holy Mother Church, have been infiltrated and corrupted by an evil that preys on our most base desires as human beings. An insidious force has taken full advantage of our greed and lust for power. It has waited patiently over many lifetimes for humanity to weaken its own spirit through the subjugation, exploitation, and ultimate enslavement of our brothers and sisters. This darkness has been worshipped and exalted by world leaders, captains of industry, and all manner of high-ranking officials. It has exploited the work of the world’s scientists to meet its own sinister ends, and has finally reached its goal.

There is little choice in what must be done now if we are to have any chance at saving this world. As leaders of the faith, we are shepherds of the flock, and must protect those who look to us for guidance. I urge all members of the clergy to join me in following Christ’s ultimate example…”

He then reached into the envelope as if to pull out the text inside, and produced a .357 Magnum. Peopled started to rush towards him, but stopped when he cocked the hammer and held out his free hand indicating that they should stop. He continued speaking.

“Please stay back. I do not wish to hurt anyone. This is the only way. All clergy must follow if we are to stop what is coming. Sanguinem innocentum exsilio tenebris legio…”

With those final words, Pope John Paul III put the barrel of the gun into his mouth and amidst screams and pleas not to, pulled the trigger and took his own life. Jake watched in horror along with the rest of the crowd, completely paralyzed with shock. The noise of the gunshot seemed to momentarily deafen him, and time slowed down as he watched the pope’s body slump to the ground in front of him. Jake felt warm drops of liquid touch his face, and did not realize that when the pope’s head hit the floor of the pulpit, blood had spattered in his direction, anointing him with crimson gore. He looked on, while trapped in a solitary silence as the body lay before him, eyes rolled back, skull fragmented, and a cascade of blood pouring out of the nostrils. He stared as blood pooled under the pope’s body, and realized how much more horrible the scene appeared as the white vestments were now stained and splashed with red, adding a morbid contrast to an already awful site.

A mass of bodies pushed pass Jake and huddled around the corpse. He stepped back and finally the silence started to fade, giving way to a cacophony of panicked voices. A frantic anchor was in tears, and could not stop screaming “No!” While another alternately clasped his hand over his mouth, then over his brow, turning in circles all the while. He repeated “Oh shit! Oh shit!” over and over as he did this. Somewhere, someone was angrily telling everyone to stay calm. Paramedics pushed people out of the way, and upon appraisal of the gruesome scene, immediately realized that there was nothing that could be done.

Jake started to push his way through the crowd, and was heading back towards the door. The air had gotten hot and thick, and seemed almost impossible to breathe. There was a pungent odor permeating the church. An awful potpourri of gun-smoke mixed with incense and the metallic aroma of fresh blood. He needed to get outside. He badly needed fresh air. He pushed through the frenzied crowd in desperate frustration, and wormed his way through the mass of bodies until finally, he was outside.

Jake ran down the steps of the church, through the next wave of people who were rapidly gathering around the scene at Old St. Mary’s Cathedral. He hurried across the street, and quickly got into his rental car. He rolled down the window and with a shaking hand, pulled a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket, and after two or three tries, managed to get it lit. He took a deep drag, inhaled, and released. He sat in the car, and tried to make sense of what he had just witnessed. He thought of Pope John Paul III’s last words, “Sanguinem innocentum exsilio tenebris legio…” Words he had heard before.

Those same words had been uttered by a former CERN scientist who had left his job to become a mass-murderer. He is said to have spoken this phrase before each and every one of his crimes. They were his last words when he met his end at a shootout with police at a Mennonite schoolhouse in central Illinois a few years ago, which incidentally was the first place that Jake had encountered the phrase. It was Ian Parker who told Jake what the Latin words meant in English. Jake thought for a moment about the context of the words, and what he had just seen. Sanguinem innocentum exsilio tenebris legio meant “Innocent blood banishes the dark legion”. Jake contemplated this while trying to collect himself. He thought it might be a good idea to ask Ian about this. He put his cigarette out, took a deep breath, and started the car. He put the Subaru Legacy in drive and looked in the mirror as he was about to pull out of his parking space. It was then that he realized that his face was specked with the blood of the pope.

There you have it. Some of my more recent and favorite pieces. I hope that you enjoyed yourself, and if you would like to see more please comment. Everyone likes to be encouraged! Thanks for stopping by and have a great day!