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![]() ![]() on dec 5th 2002 I was told by Mark Merlis there was another version of the one above | ![]() |
there has been quite a bit of colourization going on with Harry's work. On these pages I try to show in colour only the work harry originally did in colour pencil and was able to published in colour ![]() |
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below is the image that made me an instant fan of Mr Bush when I first saw this ass I was struck by lightning for me this will always be The ULTIMATE ASS drawing will not be surpassed in this century whatever startrek techniques will come around ![]() ![]() | ![]() |
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here are a few celeb portrats I'd like you to have a look at:
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I'd almost forgotten how totally desirable Christopher Atkins is, but a chance viewing of The Blue Lagoon made me remember. I can't believe it's been 20 years since that movie came out. Still vividly remember how I'd sneak out to the living room at night to watch it on our clunky Beta Max. Ah, what a torture the pause button went through. |
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Oooh, he's squatting on a rock! *pause* *GAWK* Oooh, he's running on the beach! *pause* *GAWK* Eeep, he's skinny-dipping! *pause* *WANK, WANK, WANK*
Today, Christopher may be 37, |
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In the "great" times we live in now no magazine would dare to publish these. All to afraid to get sued. But tell me, would you not be honoured if you were portrayed this way? | ![]() |
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just in case you're curious for more, both password areas of the Delftboys site together hold the entire known collection of what Mr. Bush ever produced.
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Here's a message by Tom Jones that accompanied the image to the left. You can check at ebay if Tom's superquality highres prints of it are still obtainable. sorry about the unavailability of adult images for non US residents: don't ask me why but e-bay thinks our freedom of speech is less than theirs. We all know that especcially when it comes to sexual matters UK and US lag decades behind western Europe.
For several years now, I've wondered what to do about my collection of
Harry Bush memorabilia. We corresponded during the late 80's . It was
my entry into a field in which Harry was considered maestro.
Not only did Harry respond to my letters, he took it upon himself to
mentor me, trading drawings back and forth to illustrate artistic
technique or just to entertain. In his later years Harry withdrew
totally from gay society and harbored deep resentments, and although his
art is often centered on his black sense of humor it rises above it,
even soars. Recently my 'pal' in Minneapolis made me aware of how
Harry's art still has the power to shape our perception. It made me
realize that maybe it should be put "out there" as opposed to being
withheld, as Harry did with his own work. Yes, I stand to gain
financially, and that is the wierdest aspect of all, as both Harry and I
endlessly debated about money. He knew in his heart how undervalued his
pieces were, not only in the amount of money received, but in the
personal gratification he got from others while doing them. Still he
would not sell them, and would not even give them away to those of us
who would have treasured them. In the end, Harry swore to burn all the
drawings he had hoarded for years and I suspect he did. Instead, I'm
going to market prints of his legacy to me on ebay. Time moves on and
truth should out. |
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Memories of Tom Jones . . .
When Harry and I were corresponding in 1988, we both were totally
unconcerned with computers and email. Him being a generation ahead of
me made it understandable on his part, but I had made a conscious
decision not to have a computer in my life. The idea of surviving with
just a pad of paper and some pencils was very "ecologically appealing",
lol, and so we chatted along, discussing techniques, personalities 'in
the business', personal stuff. We thought a lot alike except his
pessimisms took him down, whereas mine mostly amused me. Let the world
go to hell in a handcart, what did I care. My theme song was Don't
Worry, Be Happy, and Priscilla, my buddy in design school, summed it up
well when she observed, "Well, if we're having fun we can't be wasting
time." But for Harry it hadn't all been so amusing. But there have
been others with closeted military careers, humble surroundings (albeit
in sunny southern California), one car (a Gremlin) and a fixed income
who managed without the bitterness Harry had. He once sent me a pic of
him in the service in England, commenting on his gap-toothed grin. He
was so cute, so young, that it was hard to acknowledge that the years
turned him into a bitter, emphysemic, lethargic old man. It made me
wonder could it somehow happen to me. Anyway, he'd send me these deftly
executed drawings of big dicked boys, spurting humor, and life. He said
he took a painting course at the local community college and was quite
the star. Everyone amazed how he could just "see" so much more than
they. Yes, his vision was unique and so was his talent. And yet it did
not seem to provide him personal satisfaction. Well, with the years
I've seen there are a lot of 'miserable successes' out there. People
who perform tasks well, but seem to have neglected the art of living.
Now one thing I wonder about is whether this is perhaps brought about by
the culture, a peculiarly American culture. Artists really are misfits
in American culture, like Indians or Iranians. I don't include blacks,
but I might include blacks who have white lovers. This not fitting in
cuts both ways. It can toughen you or destroy you. You can develop
offense or defense, but it seems even Oprah can teach you that you can't
take on the role of victim. And that's what Harry did. I got tired of
it to tell you the truth. I sometimes wanted to write back "get over
it" but no, I stayed deferential. Whatever his plight, the least I
could do was stay respectful, and I remain respectful. He's given me
this tremendous amount of enjoyment, just because he was who he was. He
died in 94, or thereabouts. But six years prior to that he could hardly
get up the stairs to his drawings, and mostly sat by a fan at the
kitchen table, doing these fantastic little sketches on cheap typewriter
paper, maybe wheezing on another cigarette through nicotine stained
fingers. He'd send back the art paper I'd send, and the new colored
pencils he'd complained about not be able to find, saying he didn't want
to feel 'obligated.' Proud and defiant to the end. He had one sister
that he had to drive on errands, because her daughter was never around.
His only family. He joked darkly saying at least there was somebody to
bury him. Then a few letters later he wrote and said she died. He let
life break him. Or life broke him. I'm not sure which, cause I don't
know how much the human spirit can stand up too. I'd like to think I
could have stood up it with my happy-go-lucky attitude, but who's to
say. So far so good.
Last week I bought a four-month ticket back to Brazil. Life will do with
me as it will, but with a little more luck I'm gonna enjoy Christmas,
New Years, Carnaval and being with Ricardo while he works on (and maybe
completes) his doctoral thesis. It seems to me that Brasilian culture,
in spite of all its problems, still has an art for living that we lack.
I laugh a lot down there. I enjoy being in the crowds, on the buses,
the beach at Farme and Copacabana, and, of course, my boyfriend:-) I'll
try to get out more images of Harry's stuff, but I'm also marketing my
own stuff and trying to draw and paint new. Those of you who've bought
my stuff or Harry's on eBay should know how unique the things you've got
are. Artists who don't "hit the bigtime" can only produce so much. But
that doesn't mean the quality and the intent suffers. My stuff maybe
can get better in time, if I'm lucky, but with Harry it's as good as it
gets. May he rest in peace.
Love to all,
tom
back to the previewpagessomething of a reprise here: