"World Wide Cob-Web" is how my pal Thom Sevalrud refers to my presence on the Inter-Zone, and he's right; I've been nothing but absent for the past couple of months. Excuses? Plenty. Valid? Not so much. I promise to correct this, if only to hold my head up high on the site that bears my name.

Have completed a few nice projects of late: a few new icons for Scholastic and packaging for Sniffers Dog Treats. Both were done as Edison, my other, not so secret nom de plume. If you're even slightly interested, travel over to the website of Gerald and Cullen Rapp Illustration to see my alter-ego in action.

My old friend Seth just completed the cover for Criterion's release of Leo McCarey's 1937 masterpiece "Make Way For Tomorrow", starring Beulah Bondi and Victor Moore. Moore is a favourite actor of mine, who had a long career on stage and in film, including the wonderful "Chimmie Fadden" series back in 1915, and "Make Way For Tomorrow" is one of cinema’s purest tearjerkers. It has a heart-breaking ending which you'll never forget. My wife cried her eyes out, and I wasn't far behind her. I can't recommend it enough.

When I was last in New York, which was more years ago than I'd care to admit, I finally made the personal aquaintence of one of the illustration representatives at Rapp who I'd had a wonderful e-mail and telephone relationship with, Daniel Zalkus. We found that we shared a love of cinema and illustration of the Fifties and Sixties, and got on like a house on fire. Well, he left Rapp and New York a month or so back to live in Michigan and begin his illustration career in earnest. He sent me a link to his website yesterday, and I've got to share it. I love his work. His line and composition remind me of the late, great Robert Weaver, but with a contemporary twist. Great stuff, Dan.

I've been far too busy of late to do anything really new, but all these sketches around the studio are like promises made but never kept. Better to get them up on the site and out of here. As an example: I had a 'brilliant' concept of doing a series of portraits of Presidents of the United States. That particular  idea lasted, oh, about three days. What did I get out of it? Well...

James Buchanan (1791 – 1868) was the 15th President of the United States from 1857–1861. To date he is the only President from the state of Pennsylvania and the only president to remain a lifelong bachelor.

Buchanan's efforts to maintain peace between the North and the South alienated both sides, and as the Southern states declared their secession in the prologue to the American Civil War, Buchanan's opinion was that secession was illegal, but that going to war to stop it was also illegal; hence, he remained inactive. By the time he left office, popular opinion had turned against him, and the Democratic Party had split in two. His handling of the crisis preceding the Civil War has led to his consistent ranking by historians as one of the worst Presidents in American history.

Worst Presidents in American history? Now there's an idea for a series. Wait a minute - with the exception of a few, it'd be like doing the original idea all over again.

Anyone who knows me knows of my lifelong love of movies, particularly those of the silent and early sound era. I could go on for hours, boring everyone in my path. About a month ago, Christiane and I sat down to watch a couple of Conrad Veidt (1893 – 1943) features: a restoration of the pioneering gay rights film Anders als die Andern (Different From The Others, 1919), and the Warner Brothers - Humphrey Bogart vehicle All Through The Night (1941). Veidt is wonderful in both films, as he is in such seminal classics as The Cabinet Of Dr. Caligari (Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari) (1920), The Hands Of Orlac (Orlacs Hände) (1924) and Casablanca (1942). He effortlessly steals every scene he's in, and I for one can never get enough of him. He died far too young, suddenly of a heart attack while playing golf in Los Angeles.  It's a shame that we were robbed of so great a talent; it would have been wonderful to see what he could have done in the post-war years.

I did this pencil sketch of him not long after we watched Different From The Others. I prefer it as a pencil; I think inking it might have killed the spontaneity of the line.

By the way, one of the few living artists that's a real visual hero of mine is the great Robert Andrew Parker. A brand new, limited edition (100 copies) book of his art and writings has just come out, entitled Travels With Bob. It's got a fairly hefty price tag ($250.00), but if you're as much of a fan of his work as I am, it's a must.

Now I've just got to find the dough.

Where the hell did August go? I don't know, but I do know that I felt terribly guilty about not posting anything. Lazy, lazy.

In an attempt to rectify this, I give you an ink drawing on tracing paper that's been hanging around the studio for a while.  It's not finished, but who's kidding who? It'll never be. Besides, I like it just the way it is. So, without further ado, I give you: Manfred von Richthofen (1892 – 1918). Most of us know his history, so it's pointless to regurgitate it here.

Here's the cover of a little booklet I'm working on, which will contain a number of portraits of boxers that I think are interesting. Who knows when I'll complete the damn thing, but if you'd like a copy when it's done, email me full details and I'll be sure to send you off one. I'll try to post my portrait of The Boston Strongboy in the next few days.