My new Behance portfolio is looking very shiny at:

https://www.behance.net/Henosis

Square store is finally working again:


https://squareup.com/store/henosis/


And the best thing of all.

HENOSIS ARTS IS BACK

http://www.henosis.us


That's Henosis DOT US

My intent was to be easily said while bolixed.
"henosisus"
"uusseeussus"

Thank you, Ulysses.

You're welcome, Bloom.

Goodnight, Slaveenach

After a long stint of traditional commissions having come to a close, I will now be opening up digital commissions (busts and icons) for the low, low prices of:



$15 - flat color --> $15 - flat color


$20 Shaded --> $20 Shaded



$30 - Full Color --> $30 - Full Color


Check the link above to purchase directly! Each purchase is for one queue place. Current wait time is 2 weeks for a finished full color item.

I have long wished there was an easier way to take digital commissions than just sending artists money over paypal somewhat blindly. For this reason, I have acquired website and set up an up to date inventory catalogue to let other go over example pieces and make up their mind in a more traditional online marketplacefreewebstore.org/henosisdesign

Henosis Design Storefront



In case that link does not work;

freewebstore.org/henosisdesign


I will illustrate near anything for you.

Yes, the earth has rotated us back to that time again.

Commissions are open once more and my queue is ready for your worst and loveliest assignments for Doctor.

NEW FOR FALL:

Digital Commissions:

Digital Commissions now have a faster turnaround ( within a week for most orders) and higher quality thanks to the art courses.


LOOKING FOR A TABLE SHARE

While understandably unlikely, I am seeking a table partner at last minute due to some hard decisions here at home. I am willing to cut costs and provide breaks for anyone looking to share.

If you're attending RF as a dealer or vendor and looking for a WA state license carrying table partner or helpmate, please drop me a line!

After many months of preparation, I have all the pieces aligned to start and maintain a bi-weekly webcomic.

Penumbral Webcomic Link

I may occasionally post pieces here but I'm undecided.

Ponies wonderfully left my hands in a wreck. Now, backto business.

I AM OPEN FOR ANOTHER 5 COMMISSION SLOTS FOR WATERCOLORS

This entails:

5 Watercolor custom tonic bottles with label: $30 (5 each)
5 Watercolor icons: $10 (5 Each)

4 5" Watercolor Badges: $15 (5 Each)


SPECIALS FOR JUNE

$5 Discount on 5" Watercolor badge if you purchase through my Etsy page

Canis Henosis AKA Doc McDowell on Etsy

Bulk Special: each commission after 2 gets a $5 discount

FREE SHIPPING IN THE CONTINENTAL U.S.


You can now purchase your slot for these items on my Etsy Page. Once you order, the block will disappear and I will manually repost for another listing (if applicable)


Doc McDowell AKA Canis Henosis on Etsy Doc McDowell on Fur Affinity

Canis Henosis on Weasyl Canis Henosis on Weasyl

Doc McDowell on Pinterest Doc McDowell on Pinterest

Doc McDowell on TUMBLR Doc McDowell on TUMBLR

after the resounding successes of RF 2015 and Vancoufur, I am announcing
that after a 5 year hiatus I am officially open for commissions!

the following have returned to availability

1. Tonic bottles $30
2. Mugshots $20
3. Demeos (hanging ferals) $16
4. Hanfudas (watercolor icons) $10

Alert me with barks or other noises as according to your interest.

I have just registered myself for this convention. Though I live near Sea-Tac, I am asking friends and watchers if they would be willing to have me for the nights of the convention as a floor/bed share situation. I am happy to make costs, find food and entertain with gusto.

Please respond to this journal entry or skype me at Gnosis Grain

I have a new Reality Emporium set up on the Tumblr setting.
Please re-direct eyes and hearts to this slab for future art updates.

http://www.tumblr.com/blog/inkymysteries

I have found Tumblr to be exceedingly prettier and more adaptable to my hectic schedule then spending 10 minutes uploading a single piece to FA. Posts will still be made here, just less frequently

What does it feel like to go canidae? I've outright returned. The more I drink water and the more I warble dissonant songs about tie-rods and outdated radio batteries I get closer to a Hassidic-Americana trailing the best of comets. I'm loving the light of the dog-star
meanwhile, I woke up in Canada on Tuesday. How did that happen?

Now, I'm installing light fixtures and picking plums with country-house dog roommate for RF dried goods. I'm never been so excited. My Serotonin must be all up and down my spine lit like electric eels under an AC rod.

Sorry we couldn't meet up,
 Haemish -. It would have been good to see you. It was so last minute! We ended up sleeping in our cars in Richmond surrounded in skunk bevies and shoulder epaulettes. The Otter man didn't miss his flight, but the RCMP did pull our Washington plated 1987 Cutlass Sierra for seeming "Unusual for that district at 0231 at night and that our vehicle is uncommon for Canada" huh. He was extremely helpful and pointed us to a parking lot we could sleep. Skunks everywhere. None seen ever in our section of Washington. Perhaps they like the airport? Explored an abandoned house near the Travelodge and tripped on some fallen apples while someone played loud Reggae. We were happy not to have stayed the night in west Granville which was our initial attempt at being risky and dangerous . Learned that most people there haven't heard Chet Atkins play guitar.

To.
 Davecko

Someday, we should exchange attic goods and phone numbers and become spies. Specifically about phone numbers: I don't have yours.

What do I do before work today? Read. Get knowledgeable with synonyms and sentence structure before my the volcano makes more obsidian for us

I removed the dog mantle from off my face. What remained was the coated carmichael of raccoons.

What visage? What entity shall I entreat in tatters and tombalas? Thickness will rise in the high shambles before this shadow falls to the thinning summit.
Lose change beats the lake. Arosing moratorium moves no mullberrys from under he who coins bull moose.

Tillage seeps tithewise in the garden of hysterectimies. Why pretend? Why forage for followers when no earthly sand will recompense these pants? Tomorrow is another Kirkland. Bend the human arrow foward so the theatrics of a hillside moonbeam can be cold pressed.
Torquemada's lime trees could stand a fire. Dither the remaining ukrainian corn before the barefoot scientist returns from his coffin.
Governer Borealis spoke neither through his mouth nor through his mother. Spirit moth hangs out the cryasalis to dry acting as mouthpiece for a whorde of sleeping bags.
Baggete please, nice of you to charge 10 cents for the bag make sure it chokes me with its diamoonds.
The pricinciple export from the heavenly colony. Blood dust blows north from soviet day camps where cooking is banned.
Time out, Toppenish. Think twice about your gold medals and your electrolux sass.
Poverty polishes noone but paddy and his eccentric crew of high risk assessment bankers. Rip the calico. Kill the hacklers. Reroute the liffey to the Crimean and the Black to the devil doll.
Tiffany names her faces after icebergs. The most famous being Bohr and his amazingly cold calculus for the Belgians.
Fat ants fire the kiln for their next xeric breakfast. Loosen the servo motor. Motorize the spoon before someone steals your invention. Times awaisting. Egrets will eat your family. Best to populate the suburban landscape with grass. Growing billboards from pop up seeds on burial grounds. The goldfish wants his thoughts back. Mitresaw banjo will be the next electric marvel from GE GESTATIONS.
"Pollinate", you might say to the stranger in your past daubing indo europe with your genetic stuffing.
Tomorrow is another Ulster. Pinprick the zootspire, striate mother puppy. Dog fistula protrudes from out of Shelly, out of Campbell in drastic contortion from Victor's monster and the arctics secret. Put the door on hold and hold me, loving rum mutt. Site the window and set the room opaque. Re-fashion my cosmic fillegre in your arms. Lay me across the plain and piledrive your affections daintily.

Don't forget; our dinosaur has a name.
It sounds like dinner but fire has not been heard of here. Chronopaste shines as the number one alternative to Creat and Colgate.
One brush and your embarassing cat related memories evaporate like so much feline smoke in a interneicine nigeria. Negate neither spire nor pembroke in this poorhouse of the North. Erupt out from out of me, KKK and let the mantle run out your flesh like ash pushed off the cliffs of insanity.
Punish her above the tailbone. She needs it for balance. Don't overhear her converation with her parents. They will eat you alive. Talk to her stepbrother. He drank iodine and lived to never tell what he saw. She looks at me. Pity the green lyre inheritated to her by Laguardia and his trickster cousins from Lombardy. The Jewish laughter of a dozen shattered light bulbs blues the everlasting semeticstopper until our yentil pops from outside out puritan cocoon.
Wings upon wings tile trial lawyers in the light of Iberian peasants silent in their task lest the Alumbrada return to retake their flesh and the lives of badgers toiling in their exercise.
the quitescence of the morrow hangs a lowhung haesteur to pierce the clouds of its gold. See lucifer in his red cape shuffle hither and yon to the middle chord of Atlantis, that foul muse of the balkans. Prove to me that sincere twincest isn't the pyre 'pon which the embers of culture burns. See your dignity plow beneath the journeywork of the braindead. Take off your neighbor-sweater and put upon the full armor of Tupac.
Ready your battle chains, your mother wants you over for tea. Like the Thames on facebook and receive an eel for your support.
Mt. T was once a mister before his hips and shoulder ossified into granite. See Doctor Reagan for your nightly dose of sacchrine folkisms. I pity the Russians. Their lifeblood ought be drained by western leeches and operated upone by a blind Cesar. Land the nearest Cochrine on Baltic soil and teach their heathens how to hate like Kansans. Comfrey grows in the in the Volga watershed beneath the site of two saphires worth their weight in VHS tapes. Sargaent slaughter pummels the names of his contemptoraries to burn carbs and tone his privates.

Jacq has alerted me to the power and prowess of SKYPE. Does any one who reads my cuneiform use it and would like to keep in constant discussion?

Journal post six.
Another full six fortnights in the arboretum. Now that the sinew week of sprine break yields sap, I can give time to reflect upon its nectars.

Shoreline hashighly agreeable to me. Half of my life was already spent in north king co, south snohimish.
Gender , astrology, and dulse has been all about this house. Lining the walls are talks of better boxed wines and the strong topics of romantic expectation.
On my front page was added FAs icon for the largest polyamory group I know of. I have been hestitant to post anything regarding my personal life in recent months and years. It was already time to banish those concerns before I left Kent.
I cannot get over the lady I love and live with. Nor has any great tugging of affection every pulled me into the field of heady romance so like these two years. I am happy to have others so close to her, the likes of whom are good with hands, manual shift, and data systems repair.
I want badly to make something of myself since my muse displacement of 2010, and just maybe recent forays in new romance, botany, and human achievement may pull me out of it.

I no longer smoke tobacco. My half bent Kurston pipe has sat idle since I quit Securitas, now with no further sitting around like a petty gate chieftain abrest Seattle's tallest container ships. The pipe was mostly for aesthetics and to get conversations out of reactionary longshoremen.

When I put down the chainsaw and replaced it with a german shepherd last March, I drew perhaps 2 pieces a month. Not a single art piece came out for the next 8 months. I am likely no comitted dog person, as much as I would like to be. My frail frame did appreciate him over the frenzy mandibles of the 20' saw blade.

Coffea Arabica art or something spawned from meditating on it should post here soon.

Carefree Spring entry cloud matrix

Graphic T-shirts embolden, colorize and personify to s a stunning degree. I prefer no colors on my chest or arms for it allows no distraction away from the content of my person.

Seattle's atmospheric template continues to wane and wax between winter and spring. My dry archeology books say the ancient Celts found weather and temporal conditions were at there most sacred when they're in between stations.
Gold finches bombard my window as I ponder further on animism, theriosophy and a host of other underlying philosophies relevant to our society and generation.
The Mother held me again last night in a dream. White and green robes, silver sheens radiating all about. It's not unusual for me to dreamcast myself as a Procyon.
It's as though something from within or from the outside pokes at my distressed corpus whispering "there is something larger going on. Chill out"
This time though, I awoke with the first stave of a march meant for harp. I scribbled it down somewhere. I need to befriend more harpists at the Dusty Strings harp circle. Dreams are odd in that they call on an amalglam of experiences to construe experiental fuckery.
the structure of the march is at the Roman funeral standard of 60 beats per minute. The first stave follows thus:
C# B A A E E F A
C# B A A B E2 C# B

Look to the chloropasts. They hold the secret to our salvation.

I'm told I don't draw enough.
Plants have captured most of my attention for the last year. I've been inspired by a great many things but I've felt unable to pick up any media to express it.
I seem to have reached that point in which drawing animal people lacks the potency it did for me in 2003. I'd love to draw more folk art. I recall in 2004 when I was allowed to paint a mural for the Sand Point Starbucks, I was asked to gravitate towards the theme of an "earthy, Latino vibe". Feeling their request was insufficiently creative, I made a wall of ameobas attacking the molecule which represented coffee. They thought it was authentically Cuban.

I don't understand other white people.

Nowadays, I draw pictures of imperfect stomatal arrangements and call it art. Sometimes I'll draw lobsters and ghosts for 9 year olds. The other day, I drew a picture of a yeast fungi trying to affix a bow tie after I ran into the dashing  Lykanthrope at a Disorganized Pelt Disco Headquarters. I was going to give it my Pastor Grandfather, but his brother died two weeks ago and I felt it was inappropriate to send him a dashing yeast friend.
I wish I could feel art again enter my body as quickly the white Cuban rum.
The medicine has been good lately. The new puppy came up to me earlier in the evening and began to recite King Charles I's tract against Witchcraft. As he was making his point about how the Midlothian weavers and their long tradition in diabolically marking up the import of wollen goods from Flanders, the dog even began cultivating Charles Stewart's curly hair and tiara.

Plant problems diagnostic class is tomorrow. Would bringing in a Rhododendron with sun scald be too cliche?

March is an important month for me. For 10 years, I've honed my muse with a keen eye to anthropomorphics. The date reminds me why I'm in this group, why I adore it's artisans, it's culture, and how different things could have been. My family, forever worried that my fixations would resemble those seen on MTV, have thankfully been changed over the years. Going from Anglefire, to Furtopia, to Skunked.org, to VCL, to FA, my work went from pallid imitations of fan art into the surreal watercolor work I obscurely scrawl for close friends, ancient deities, the homeless, and prophets. 4 years of views accumulating in over 1000 glances is heartwarming.
Though not always furry, the people and connections I've made in the fandom communities led me to discovering who I was.

It remains a happy decade which will stretch the course of my life.

Now that Fall quarter dissolves around behind me, I can re-allocate my abilities towards art.
Since I'll be in the middle of a move, the only art piece I can guarantee the same week is a traditional icon for $5. Although it does not seem like a great milestone for FA standards, my page has finally crested 1000 views since it's inception 4 years ago. As such, all icons between now (Tuesday, December 7th) and next week (Tuesday, December 14th) are only $2. No limits are determined yet.

Allow me to be of service.

Sabah's mustache twitched it'self free from dusts. The artificial atmosphere making up the computer lab left my skin parched and crawling. As his mustache made it's minute flickerings, more tiny things became apparent; College is easier than I expected.
Half of 2010 has given up it's paper space on the calender and since then my year has been a drunken mariachi party of whorled Labrador tea, dog ghosts, scanned breast pics, star chains, and Cornish Wasp communities prefering tea over milk.
The world feels more like my oyster than ever before since Securtoss gave me a rope and a flashlight from the bottom of a lava tunnel.


The starfish etched into my flute met up with Sabah's mustache dandruff and became 2 fast paced reels to get the winds moving across the mountains (Craig's Pipes and Cuz Teehans). Not only was my herbarium done , but so was my chai tea. Would it be a good idea to use my dremel to etch glyphs resembling the pictish stones found in Scottish backyards and scatter them throughout Kent like a dirt magician? Could it be illegal? Or could it be an eccentric way of polluting the cultural fabric of Washington with Celtic guerilla ontology?

My old boss was a Kuwaiti man. Gold chains festooned from his neck and body hair that must have been part of a competition somewhere in the world (Germany?).
He would hide all of the silverwhere and the non-halal meat that was left out when the district manager came by. He once hired an Egyptian named Achmed who "loved poetry about plants". I really wanted Achmed to write me a poem about flowers. Achmed used to be in the Lebanon malitia.

One day, a group of East Indians came into the resturaunt which prompted my boss to mumble "mmmm Indain-a-people. Indian-a-People" over and over again.
I made served them and offered them green tea.

They said no thanks.

Years later, I met some more east Indians after recently seeing a whole slew of bollywood films with lots of colors and dancing (why is this not a con theme yet?)
so I began to follow the 5/6 beat of a simple dance raga on my fingernails when they approached me.

The told me I was "awesome".
That concludes my week.

It's come to my attention that I no longer have another artist to table with for Rainfurrest (Seattle 09-18-20 2009).
If any of my fellow dealer friends are interested in tabling with the Doctor, please, shoot me PM or email me.

1st annual strangefuck solstice cards. I can send them out right fast to anyone interested.

email me at phoxkoon[at]gmail.com if interested.

Blood spatter and Rosewater optional.