The other reason is more complicated and philosophical and esthetically based: I have created a sort of comic book world in these posts, an alternate universe where all visual depictions are in the awkward cartoonish form of the protagonist's childlike vision. A photo or professionally done drawing or even mildly competent artwork would shatter the spell, breaking the narrative and jarring the reader with a hackneyed violence that no writer with true passion for the craft could ever stomach.
But to be perfectly honest, since the reader described in the explication of the second reason is undoubtedly in an overwhelming majority of site visits simply a temporally progressed version of the writer - meaning myself alone, re-reading my own post, the second reason for the rule could be truthfully said to be just a pompous and verbose re-hash of the first reason, which has already been exposed as shallow and contemptible.
In any case, the other artist I'm posting is my own father. Since we share the same last name, his work still qualifies as "hagenart." And genetically we are 50% identical, so what's the difference? (Hint: it's the same number as the mathematical similarity, see above).
I recently scanned several sketches from my father's notebooks. I don't know if he meant them to ever be seen, or had in the manner of our family some kind of imagined scenario for how or who or when he wanted them to be seen or discovered in the rubble by the archaeologists of the far future digging through the dirt of the titanic Yellowstone eruption that will annihilate the western United States most likely at the very moment when we've got self driving cars and surgically implanted iPhones and genetically engineered Google glass skulls, but I got them and I scanned them and this one's my favorite:
It's an owl reading the Book of Mormon. My father was devout. I don't know if he liked the owl after he drew it. The owl does not to me look as if he is enthralled by what he is reading, so I wonder if my father disliked the picture and did not use it for whatever he had intended. I can't even imagine. He was delightfully half-hearted with many of the unpleasant standards that the community he grew up in demanded of him, and all the time seemed genuinely disappointed in his own free inclinations. I never knew if he was putting everyone on. He was as gentle as a dove with the feelings of his loved ones, even myself, his undoubtedly most disappointing son.
I intend to color in this picture and all the others I scanned, it's a basic pleasure of children and infantile men, to add to a picture that someone else has already done the heavy lifting on, but instead of crayons I'm planning to use the photo processing software that eliminates much of that drudgery of colorization which is the last bastion of penance left to the mediocre doodlers.
