Ethan Schmunk: Artsy, Dinosaur-Obsessed Maniac

Deep in the suburbs of Portland, Oregon, the founder of Sunset High School's Bigfoot Club, Ethan Schmunk, leaned into a pillow, stretched his legs and cracked a mischievous smile. He was whipping up a story of his own.

"I didn't know what to think," he said, improvising a tale about time-traveling to the late Jurassic Period. "I was just a tiny little kid: a perfect snack for Ornitholestes, because they're like, two meters long." 

Ethan's colorful personality doesn't begin and end with making stories. The seventeen-year-old participated in choir and Model United Nations as a junior. He uses Adobe Illustrator like second nature and can often be found concentrating on a computer screen, stringing together pixel art.

And he's absolutely crazy about dinosaurs.

The flame started bright and early. More than a decade ago, Ethan visited a family friend's house and came across a classic brontosaurus figure. Fascinated with the toy, Ethan cried upon leaving, persuading his family to visit Toys "R" Us.

Ecstatic with his new friend "Big", a spiky red replica of a character from the Disney movie Dinosaur, Ethan returned home completely smitten.

"No matter where I went, whether it'd be the park or a friend's house, I would always drag him by the tail," he said, reminiscing his odd commencement into the world of paleontology. "Every kid loves dinosaurs. But I was the kid who never grew out of it."

By twelve, Ethan read research papers by paleontologists and developed an adoration for the field. He pursued his interest in drawing, meshing his passions for art and science together. It came naturally. For all the time he's been a fan of paleontology, he's been an artist as well.

"It's always been a stress reliever for me," Ethan said, examining a mug holding dozens of pens. "I love the feel of pencil on paper. I think that's what I was meant to do."

Ethan does come from an artistic family background. His grandfather was a costume designer for plays and painted what characters would look like. He inspired Ethan's father, who then became a product designer. 

"If you go into his office, he looks like a crazy person obsessed with shoes," Ethan said. "There's sketches and scribbles scattered on the walls, the floor, on the desk. He's really good at it, too." 

Despite Ethan's deep admiration of his family members' artistic endeavors, he managed to carve his own pathway into the realm of art.

"If you look at a lion or a tree, you can just go outside and draw it," he said. "With dinosaurs, you start with bones because that's the only thing we have."

Paleoart is indeed a unique area from other varieties of art. It balances a fine line between science and art, replacing expression with technicality. There is a number of debates about these technicalities, and one of them is muscle placement. Many artists stick to shrink-wrapping -- keeping to the bare minimum of what skeletons show.

According to Ethan, this is playing it safe. Most people wouldn't sketch a Tyrannosaurus rex with a neck waddle or a feathered coat. Some paleoartists think differently. 

"No matter how you draw dinosaurs, you're always going to be wrong," Ethan said, referencing one of his favorite books on the subject. "So why not make it a real animal? You've got to play. Look at what they do. How they hunt. How their social lives are. And I think that's why I like them."

The challenges of being a busy, social teenager fail to distract him. An incoming senior, Ethan has planned on opening up a cryptozoology club at Sunset. Recently, he attended the annual Fossil Fest at the Rice Northwest Museum of Rocks and Minerals, where he found out about an upcoming dig at Woodburn High School.

Despite the lack of paleontology programs at American universities, Ethan is dead-set on studying dinosaurs for a living. He won't let any obstacle block his aspirations. 

"They're like aliens from planet Earth."

PC: R. Neogi