And my drawing hand is his skinny friend encouraging him to get off his ass.
The Newt concept inched forward a bit this week. The Calls have discovered a publisher that supports storylines of their kind and the use of illustrators of their choice. I narrowed down the character look and the flute was replaced by a lute.We’ll be working simultaneously to prepare elements of a package that will be delivered soon. Beyond that I’ll provide more visual updates of actual artwork. Believe in it, folks. Pages are gonna fly.
I also began a phase of profile sketching for Vee, gaiJen‘s character. This work will continue for a couple of weeks before transitioning into full character work-ups. Some work better than others, but my desire is to go digital with this instead of using ink. Show some love for the D.C. tattoo.
Last week left me with a loss in momentum in comic birthing. Making a habit of drawing is a task in itself but there’s something else. Call it a panic in wayfinding. Choosing a direction and voice is not a new dilemma to me. I once had an informal meeting with Marshal Arisman at the School of Visual Arts who was very candid with me about my work at the time. In more or less words, he told me I had some decent work but I needed to find a voice—one style or approach that truly defines me. That doesn’t mean I have to only draw in pencil or only create portraits with a particular stroke. It’s personality, confidence, storytelling, and something that’s an obvious reflection of you in the work. Is it needless to say that I never found it? This also comes into play when we start discussing work outside of a collaboration.
I don’t lead a rich life but I also don’t struggle. Things don’t bother me as much. Problems–local and abroad–seem to speak for themselves and I envision practical solutions. No need to illustrate them. Scenarios don’t transform themselves into artistic productions in my head. Do I have anything important to say or illustrate? Is my future in comics and illustration going to be confined to visualizing someone else’s stories or client requests? Where do the ideas come from? Do I need to “struggle” more in order to gain inspiration?
My brain hasn’t been totally engorged with empty calories. For years, I’ve had a desire to embed my first material possession into some kind of identity, illustration or comic. Shortly after moving to D.C., I thought (briefly) about using Buddy, my stuffed bear, as my graphic design identity or “mascot.” Worried about appearing legitimate, that idea didn’t last long. With the great variety of comics today, I started to brew ideas of representing myself through him in a comic. It’s not a total rip-off of Calvin & Hobbes. Yes, I am personifying an inanimate object that happens to be a stuffed toy animal. This wouldn’t be a coming-of-age series, a reflection on the adventures in youth, or anything remotely clever in comparison to the Watterson masterpiece. There’s something about this bear and its visual presence in my youth. Maybe my attachment to him wasn’t unique of me as a child, but perhaps it’s peculiar he survived the other stuffed animals I systematically organized around my head when I went to bed. Today, it’s here on top of my bookshelf. My youth and passion haven’t left me yet. Some pieces have fallen off in the past 2o-plus years–literally and figuratively–but it’s a reminder to make the most of what’s available.
The visual, again, isn’t the problem. Do I have any stories to tell? For instance, I don’t work in an office where I, the bear, would have quirky interactions with my co-workers (i.e. Bob jams the printer again. Buddy makes clever remark and forgives him momentarily before biting his head off.) Where does this idea go? What’s my voice? What’s really happening around me that translates into some kind of daily, weekly, or annual relevance? Do I need to have an eventful life in order to write a relatable story? Does it need meaning or can I just make shit up?
Another concept that’s been floating about is the unlikely and unnoticed hero in the form of a homeless man. You might have noticed another sketch in my second post and the one here is a step forward. This no-name concept is the result of my Hellboy and Goon envy. He’s almost a cross of those characters while incorporating the rejection and hobo comradery found in Spawn. “Homeless Guy” hasn’t taken a true form yet as I haven’t figured out if the story will (or should) require some field research. It might be a good chance to meet some lost individuals, perhaps help them out a bit in the process. Even though my character wouldn’t be based on anyone, I can’t decide if I’d be exploiting the homeless population or not.
Without any firm answers to these concerns, the wheels are still turning. This week, even though it’s significantly busier and more complicated, I’ve drawn spontaneously with brush pen and pondered this act of writing stories in a visual format. Both the hand and mind need strenuous exercise to get back into shape.
