I’ve had some luck with horror books lately! Trudged through some underwhelming slop and had some DNFs as well, but this is not the place for negativity. Instead, let’s celebrate the nicer things, like being force-fed one’s own pinky finger and theorizing about secret child assassins that may or may not (but obviously must be) living in the walls.
An oldie from “The Republic of Cute” archives, starring Pink Pet and Buck!
I made these Isengardian hats for the theatrical re-release of The Lord of the Rings! Yep. Ben and I spent ~12 hours this weekend sitting in a theater, dressed as Saruman’s minions. Like all the cool kids do.
I was floored that we were the only people there who even remotely dressed up for the occasion. I knew we weren’t going to a Comic-Con or anything (just three legendary movies in a bougie Cleveland-area theater), but still! Where my Hobbits at? There wasn’t a single wizard hat or elven cloak in the entire place! This is the 25th anniversary special showing, people. Get it together!
I initially planned to be a Nozgul, but since that would have required me to purchase a floor-length black cloak, I decided against it. (Not that I didn’t want one, but I'm deathly allergic to sewing, and everything I saw online looked like junk. If and when I’m gonna purchase a ridiculous cloak, it shall be a nice, ridiculous cloak.)
Anyway, I ended up DIY-ing these lovely “White Hand” army hats instead. The hand of Saruman is a flour-water paste because it’s washable, and I didn’t have a good way to test any permanent white paint before committing to it. But actually, this flour mixture worked out even better, I think. Ben found these black hats on Amazon for about $10, which I ceremoniously slapped with my white battered hand and an Uruk Hai ROAR!
SIDE NOTE: I was so pumped when I thought I saw someone enter our dark theater dressed as my beloved Nozgul! Ben insisted it was, in fact, not a Nozgul but a normal human, but, obviously, I didn’t believe him because that was absurd. (Who wouldn’t want to be a Nozgul?) But, alas, it was indeed just a regular suburban lady with long black hair and a stylish—and probably very expensive—black coat. This is not a very fun age in Middle-earth.
I’m bringing them back: Pink Pet and Buck are joining forces with The Scholarly Banana universe! I still have a ways to go before I’m ready to share that, so in the meantime, here’s a throwback comic from 2015. This was the very first comic I made. The inspiration behind Pink Pet (and, by extension, much of the comic series) was my late, great, much-loved Boston Terrier, Luna. After 3.5 years of her being gone, I’m finally ready to revisit “her” character. I would’ve loved to have done this sooner, but sometimes you don’t get a say in how the grieving process goes or how your brain works. On a much lighter note, I’m so excited to recall those adorable memories and celebrate her unforgettable rascaliness through “The Pinkest of All Pets!”
Making things about my favorite things.
Made this lil’ guy for Donkey Skin! NOTE: In case you’re unaware, “Donkey Skin” is the title/subject of the upcoming Scholarly Banana book. I don’t know anyone named Donkey Skin, if that’s where your mind went. But, to be fair, donkeyskin was Ben’s Xbox Live ID back in the early aughts! That was excellent.
Anyway, this thing is a riff on the emblem of King Louis XIV of France, aka The Sun King. Until this afternoon, I’ve been keeping the central piece in an old plastic bin, held together with Blu Tack and Glue Dots. (I don’t like “finishing” my book sculptures in case I want to repurpose or rearrange pieces down the line. I’m equal parts cheap and lazy.) But I really like this one! And I would be sad if little Louis broke, which he 100% definitely would if I left him to get crushed in that bin. So I peeled off the temporary glue, finished it with actual glue, framed it with another forgotten sculpture that was also destined for breakage, and displayed the thing on the wall like some world-class art collector who needs to free up bin space.
Made with Super Sculpey, cardstock, craft acrylics, metallic pigments, and craft sticks. And for a while, Blu Tack and Glue Dots.
From the Scholarly Vault! I made this years ago, before publishing any of the books or even working out the whole Scholarly Banana concept-thing. This was my first attempt at animation and After Effects, and I had a blast making it.
Oh yeah. I should mention that this is The Story of Grandmother, an old French oral story that may have inspired the more recent (by “recent,” I mean 17th-century) literary versions of Little Red Riding Hood. If you’re a folktale aficionado and/or have read The Scholarly Banana’s book on the history of Little Red Riding Hood, you might also recognize this plot from The False Grandmother, an Italian tale that features a villainous ogress instead of a bloodthirsty wolf/werewolf. In that version, the ogress pan-fries the grandmother’s ears and teeth, then feeds them to the girl as a delightful snack. Saluti!
At the Wynwood Art District, Miami FL (10/30/2025)
I made two miniature Foreigner Belts in bracelet and pin form! I have zero experience making bracelets, so like a good little crafter, I began by overwhelming myself with online tutorials and detailed instructions to become the best beginner bracelet-maker/leather-cutter/clay-gluer/Aqua Teen Hunger Force disciple in the galaxy. But ultimately, I decided against that. As an angry fat man once said, “I don’t need no instructions to know how to rock!”
Made this last year as a “gift” to my inner creative whack-job. It took an insanely long time to splice together, everyone who saw it questioned my sanity, and now I can’t listen to this song without picturing an adorable stop-motion Rudolph spit out the line: “Store-bought attitude and spit!! // A sugar-coated piece of shit!!”. . .
It was a good gift.
Honoring the Great Creeper himself, Sneak King! Made this guy with an $8 Walmart nutcracker, polymer clay, printed copy paper, canvas sheets, sparkly ribbons, some teeny tiny Swarovski crystals that I kept super-glueing to my hands, aluminium foil, craft acrylics, and tons and tons and tons of sealer. I am pleased to report that his nutcracker jaw is still functional—an essential detail for His Flame-Broiled Highness.
Treating myself to a little Lamb of God fan art! I made this pendant from polymer clay, some good old-fashioned copy paper, and a generous slathering of glue. I’m going to be a lamb for Halloween (a very metal lamb, indeed) so this should pair nicely. Plus, it’s LAMB OF GOD, so until those guys release a jewelry line, I may have to wear this all the time. I’m not above wearing paper.
I see your Labubu and raise you a Banana.
This is one of my original resin Bananas that I painted, sealed, drilled a hole in his back with an absurdly thin drill bit that immediatly snapped inside him, made a bigger hole with a more reasonably sized bit, jammed an eyehook in the new hole whilst trying to avoid the broken shards of that first bit that are now stuck in there forever, glued the stupid hook, filled the stupid hole, said “that’s the most effort I’m willing to put into this”, crossed my fingers, and took this photo in front of some wood.
Last year I couldn’t believe how much BANANA stuff was on the boat—I’ve found my people! So I promised myself that this year, I would make some fun, metal/banana themed swag to pass out to my fellow Headbangers. For the design, I took inspiration from Headbangers Boat’s dark nautical imagery, combined with traditional metal-style lettering, and of course, included this Scholarly, potassium-rich fellow.
This was a bucket list concert I never thought I’d see! Ben and I couldn’t believe that The Squirrel Nut Zippers were 1. still touring; 2. performing at a Community College only 20 minutes away from our obscure town; and 3. were so incredibly good live! Perennial Favorites has been one of my favorite albums since the 90’s, so I was a bit hesitant to see them (I didn’t want to diminish my appreciation for their album tracks if they weren’t as good in concert). But no—-I think I love their music even more now! We learned that only one of the members (the guy in the glasses) was from the original group, and that most of the musicians have been cycled in and out of the group for years. As a longtime fan, I never would’ve guessed. And even though there were five singers, they all sounded identical to the originals. And bonus—they were hilarious, so fun to watch, and it felt like we were at a 1940s concert/comedy show with the most joyful, flamboyant, and talented jazz musicians we’ve ever seen.