Eliminate 💩 the void 💩 that is your blank bathroom wall with our exciting array of excretory artwork.
Loads 💩 of sizes available, with prices as low as $12. Pick out your no. 1 or no. 2 💩 faves over at iheartguts.threadless.com! Don't limit your decorative creative juices to the bathroom, though -- think of how fun these would be at your nephrologist's or gastroenterologist's office! If you're looking for fun medical office posters, we've got your backside covered.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.
Some of you asked for some behind-the-scenes tales of how things work here at Guts HQ, so here’s a peek at my drawing process (minus the forehead slapping and self-flagellation that goes with it). It is a messy process!
These are sketches for new art for our testicle plush hangtag. I usually begin with my nose in an anatomy text book and sketch out the bare bones of what makes an organ — or in this case, gland — tick. I draw it as completely as I possibly can before moving to the computer.
Next, I’ll write the text to go with it, pretending I’m explaining things to an 8-year-old to get it as basic as possible, as I only have a 3”x 3” square to work with. Then I either scan the ink drawing or redraw it on the computer in Illustrator.
Next up, I inevitably hate the drawing and have to go back to my sketchbook — either the visuals don’t explain the organ’s process well, or the text doesn’t fit, or it’s too complicated (spermatogensis is crazy!), or I end up liking the first drawing I did after wasting tons of time moving things around on the computer. Then I tear my hair out, want to punch a wall and wish it was 5pm so I can have a glass of wine. 🍷 Then I’ll procrastinate by thinking about other things I’m avoiding — usually inventory or taxes or cleaning the toilet. Next I have to give myself a hard deadline: “This is due in 24 hours now FINISH IT no matter what. Go with with what you got.”
Then I hate myself a little bit more, then I think I’m being too hard on myself. After I get though this emotional roller coaster, I’ll wrap it up and I send it to an editor to make sure nothing is misspelled and then to a doctor to make sure it’s all accurate. That reminds me — anybody know a nice urologist willing to look over the final testicle drawing (if I ever get it done)?