Can you guess which of the 290 pages of Mitch Connell's jampacked new, puffy-covered-like-cheap-tablecloth art anthology he is most proud of? It is not the vaguely seedy Hanna Barbera art, commissions all for Warner Brothers that were never utilized commercially. It's not the illustrations for porno mags, the public works benches in Chicago, several Newsweek covers, untold numbers of event flyers, or his late-1980s pop art aerial views of reclining women hoisting hot dogs.
It's the crazy shit he drew after he discovered his wife had been chronically cheating on him. You thought the rest of it was wacky! Read more »