Clint Eastwood - Blog Posts

I have trouble drawing Clint Eastwood, so practice :))

I have only drawn Asian men, so others look wonky 🥲 (Sorry my English 😭)

Yee?

Haw.

I want to express my immense love for the Dollars Trilogy with Clint Eastwood

I have no words, just the best movie that influenced me a lot

MORNING MANTIMER NATION

the bad the ugly and the good quick sketches 🦉

heh after you on the outside me in the inside huh (im completely normal about them)

the man with no name sketch, again of course

im still shit at drawing faces btw i need to study more noses n stufgf

the man with no name, one layer challenge using paint tool sai

tried my best i guess

me when uh when gay cowboys‼️

new hyperfixation, quick sketch

Happy Birthday To... Me!

Tomorrow is my Birthday and my loving, wonderful, grown-up kids ordered me a few things online… #BirthdayPresents…

A New Cali State Park Day Pass Old School @katinusa​ Boardshorts Nat Young’s “Church of the Open Sky” and #Weed Suppositories?!?!? https://twitter.com/RustedAloha/status/1285729682051272704?s=20

Pale Rider Acrylic on canvas 16" x20"

Hear that? That's the sound of me giggling.

Just saw Dirty Harry 4K trailer, what a cutie patootie.

Another day, another post about Dirty Harry. In my innermost feelings I tell myself its okay, okay. I don't need to compare it with other 70s thrillers. Im satisfied.

But yknow, I can't help but to. This movie is so different than those Nicholson and Hackman thrillers. Its about exposure. Undoing. Reshaping in the sense of stripping. Stripping away all control revealing nothing but messy vulnerability kept underneath.

The cross scene is loaded with symbolism. However way you want to interpret it, its primal. Humiliating and ever so morbid. Harry's not the one with power this time, and to see him just accepting the abuse? Other rogue cops wishes they're as mentally strong as him

There we go again. Wouldn't say Im obsessed. I haven't even watch the movie. But Im just so crazy about their dynamic.

Bear with me. So personally, Scorpio and Harry are like the guy and the girl in Quentin's Like A Virgin analogy in Reservoir Dogs.

Harry love fucking with criminals, his superiors and the law. They know his mo but they let him do his thing anyway. So he's used to being in control, having power. But then he meets Scorpio and its like the power shifted. Scorpio dug deep where no one has gone before. He makes Harry feel pain again.

Clint's giving me breathing problems man. His movies always have something I liked. I know most people see him as a tough guy but he offered something new everytime, personally. Joe was like a cat, playing with his gun when talking to Silvanito that one time. Harry was playful and occasionally funny. Mcburney was sexy, in every sense of the word. Him getting humiliated in that movie? Wow

Im totally whipped. I love learning these new things about Clint. Anyway, I was thinking about the controversy surrounding Dirty Harry and figured I express why I love this movie.

Its that whole power play thing. I started to be into Harry and Scorpio's dynamic after seeing that scene of Harry walking alone at the park in the dark, holding a bag of money Scorpio requested. Scorpio's probably looking at him the entire time.

The way I see it, Scorpio's the luckier one here. He can do whatever he wants to Harry, and the latter can't do anything about it. Literally and legally. Harry can't sue Scorpio if he does what Scorpio wants willingly.

The best part about the whole thing is Harry's frustration. Like I said before he can't complain if he lets Scorpio do what he wants to him. I just wonder what kind of face he would make if Scorpio did make a move on him.

Its so morbid, that scene in the park. I was surprised they got close to each other as they did. I love that scene, feels like they were the only 2 people in the world

For a Moment

Chapter 1: A Night to Remember

Dawn's POV

The hum of voices and clinking glasses filled the restaurant, a small, cozy place I’d practically grown up in thanks to Tommy. Tonight, though, felt different. There was a buzz in the air, an energy I couldn’t quite explain.

I leaned against the bar, arms crossed, watching my brother like a hawk as he chatted with a couple of his bandmates. “So, what’s the deal with this guy?” I asked, nudging Tommy’s arm.

“Relax, Dawn. Frankie’s got pipes, trust me,” Tommy replied with a smirk, not even glancing my way.

“That’s what you said about the last guy, and he couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket,” I shot back, raising an eyebrow.

Tommy finally turned to look at me, his smirk shifting into something closer to annoyance. “You’ll see. Just… stick around, alright?”

I huffed, but curiosity got the better of me, so I stayed put, nursing a soda and watching as Tommy waved Frankie over.

When Frankie stepped up to the stage, the crowd quieted. He was smaller than I expected, with this boyish charm that made him seem almost out of place among the seasoned musicians Tommy usually ran with. But there was something about the way he carried himself—nervous but confident, like he had a secret he was dying to share.

Tommy grabbed the mic first, his grin wide and easy. “Alright, folks, we got a treat for ya tonight. Frankie here’s gonna show ya what he’s got!”

The crowd clapped politely, and I could see Frankie shift on his feet, adjusting the mic stand. Then he started singing.

“I can't give you anything but love, baby…”

The room transformed. His voice wasn’t just good—it was *magical*. Smooth, velvety, with a touch of vulnerability that made you lean in, made you *want* to listen.

I watched as the women in the crowd melted—leaning forward, whispering to each other, their eyes sparkling. But while they fell in love with Frankie Valli, the heartthrob, I was drawn to something deeper. The way he sang felt personal, like he was sharing a piece of himself with everyone in the room.

I found myself gripping the edge of my seat, hanging on every note.

"Alright so the kid can sing,” I muttered, not tearing my eyes away from the stage.

By the time Frankie hit the last note, the room erupted in applause. He ducked his head, a shy smile on his face, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of admiration.

Tommy leaned closer, a sly grin playing on his lips. “What’d I tell ya, huh? Kid’s gonna be a star.”

I didn’t answer. I was too busy watching Frankie step off the stage with his shy smile, already wondering how someone so small could fill a room like that.

————————————————————————

Now, of course, the usual problem came up with the crashed car in the jewlery shop with a giant safe came along and Frankie got blamed.

But he was loyal to Tommy, holding his own until that court date that landed Tommy 6 months in jail.

Now, Tommy being in jail wasn’t exactly new territory, but this time it felt different. Six months was a long time, even for him. And while I could’ve used the break from his constant scheming, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was counting on me to keep an eye on Frankie.

Frankie was good—too good to waste his time sneaking around town, crooning to impress every girl who batted her lashes at him. He had potential, but if he didn’t take himself seriously, he was going to get nowhere fast.

I spotted him one afternoon, leaning against the side of a diner, serenading a small group of girls with that same song he’d sung at the restaurant. “I Can’t Give You Anything but Love.” It was sweet, sure, but I could see right through him—the way he tilted his head just so, smiling at their giggles. He was eating it up.

“Seriously, Frankie?” I called, crossing my arms as I walked up to him.

The girls looked at me like I’d interrupted the second coming, but Frankie just grinned, finishing the last note before lowering his voice. “Hey, Dawn. What’s the matter? Jealous?”

“Jealous of what? A guy who’s got a fan club but no direction? Please.” I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched, betraying the smallest smile.

“Direction?” He scoffed, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You sound like my old teacher.”

“Yeah, well, she was probably right,” I shot back. “If you keep wasting your time with these sidewalk performances, you’re never going to get anywhere.”

The girls murmured their disapproval, but Frankie waved them off. “Go on, girls. We’ll pick this up later.”

Once we were alone, he turned to me, his grin softening into something closer to curiosity. “You really think I’m wasting my time?”

I sighed, shaking my head. “You’ve got talent, Frankie. Real talent. But if you don’t take it seriously, no one else will.”

“Alright,” he said, tilting his head playfully. “What do you suggest, Coach?”

I ignored the sarcasm and straightened my posture. “First of all, stop singing the same song to every girl who’ll listen. Show some range. Second, work on your stage presence. You’ve got a good voice, but you fidget like you’re afraid someone’s going to throw a tomato at you.”

“Tomatoes, huh?” His lips quirked, and he leaned closer, his tone teasing. “What, you gonna start chucking them if I mess up?”

I gave him a light shove, unable to hold back a laugh. “Maybe I will, if it gets you to focus.”

From that day on, we had this strange rhythm. Whenever we crossed paths—at the diner, the grocery store, even on the street—he’d have some new line, half flirty, half sassy, and I’d throw it right back at him.

“Dawn,” he’d call out one afternoon, his hands cupped around his mouth. “Wanna hear a new one? I’ve been practicing.”

“Not if it’s another love song,” I’d reply, pretending to groan.

“It’s jazz!” he’d counter, flashing that boyish grin that somehow made it hard to stay mad.

Frankie had a way of getting under my skin, but I couldn’t deny he was improving. Little by little, his voice grew stronger, his confidence steadier. And while I still wanted to strangle him every time he flirted his way through a practice session, I couldn’t help but feel proud.

Tommy might’ve been the one who brought him into the fold, but I was the one keeping him on track. For now, at least.

After Nick landed himself in jail after Frankie's little rendezvous with a lady in a church, that left me to carry the boys heavy work until Tommy came home.

Frankie and I had already spent a bit of time together...not bonding though. It was more like teaching and slightly insulting him to step it up.

When Tommy came home though, I was off the hook and back into sidelines... Watching the miss Mary Delgado find a special spot in Frankie's heart.