Wednesday, July 30, 2008

On the Break Up Train

Sorry for the lack of updates. Loyalty, boredom or indifference, I'll take your attention anyway it comes.

And for today, a little 3 page set-up.

Eventually I'll be able to draw Miles the way she's supposed to look, until then, she'll just keep changing with every panel.

Thursday, July 17, 2008


This shit is the funniest ever.
I wish I were funny like her.
For her (much simpler and funnier than mine how-to)
Click below:

To Work!

(The how to look like KAte bit is priceless. Click the link and scroll down)

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Artistic Process

When the subject of creating a book comes up, especially of creating an illustrated one, the question I get asked more than any other is "what is your process?"

Or, to put it another way, "how do you do it?"

I should start by saying I am a process person. I'm more emotionally driven than I am logical. I've got a mind for a color and shape and thickness of line, not mathematical equations. I have trouble playing the piano because I haven't trained my mind to see music properly and i linger over fifth-notes because they look larger and I think the sound should be bigger, too.

But I am learning.

I thought that for today I'd take a minute to break down my actual process for you.
I'll tack on a disclaimer here, saying that my process, whether it be in relationships or art, is rarely consistent. What I'm telling you today may have evolved in a month or so (I hope it does) because the process of art and life to me is just that. A process.

First: I begin with an idea. Typically this is a snippet of conversation or imagined dialog and I thumbnail it out. I'll type up a few pages of script so I have something concrete to refer back to.

Next, I take a fresh sheet of 11x14" Bristol board (smooth) and lay it all out in blue line. I then pencil over the roughs until I get something tight I can ink over, then I ink it. Erase all the pencil marks and Scan the whole page into photoshop. Then I take some time and clean up the lines a bit.
Finally, I add the text bits. These I put on a separate layer (or layers) so I can tweak them as I go. I very rarely get the text right on the first try and I almost always want to change their position on the page to optimize the narrative flow.
I drop the opacity of the ink layer so I can read the text better as I'm working in photoshop. When it's all finished I up the opacity back to 100% and save the page as both a JPEG and a PSD to preserve the layers and make tweaking with it possible in the future.

I am SURE there is a better way to do all this, but this is my way. It's fast enough and it works perfectly for me. I hope you've enjoyed this little peek into my brain. Come back next week for more goodies.

"Derive happiness in oneself from a good days' work, illuminating the fog that surrounds us." -Henri Matisse

Friday, July 11, 2008


(i know i misspelled 'waste.')

I apologize for the lame post.

Doodling on my tablet is a weird experience. It never looks right. Maybe I have to use a more 'pencily' tool. Anyway, here is my morning in a nutshell. Mom and Heather swung by interrupting my not-doing-anything-productive time. I'm half way done with the 8 page mini comic and just ran out of Bristol Board. TO the Art Shop at lunchtime! I'm also in the ink stage of Duck's conversation with her brother. That's a 5 pager and I actually like the dialog there.

Eric left for Brazil this morning so now it's me all alone at the end of the world, officially. I have some latent anxiety about being able to 'run' the house correctly. There's some button pushing involved in the solar energy/water-pumping department... ON or OFF ... mm... Not sure I can handle all that pressure. I want to post the remaining pictures of my cottage; views from the widow's walk and the sprawling guest bedroom, and my piano of course, and the master bedroom I'll be moving into tonight.

I can't believe Eric is gone until October.
2 and a half months seems like a long time.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Some Advice to those Imprisioned.

Some Advice To Those Who Will Serve Time in Prison
-Nazim Hikmet

If instead of being hanged by the neck
you're thrown inside
for not giving up hope
in the world, your country, and people,
if you do ten or fifteen years
apart from the time you have left,
you won't say,
"Better I had swung from the end of a rope like a flag"-

you'll put your foot down and live.
It may not be a pleasure exactly,
but it's your solemn duty
to live one more day
to spite the enemy.

Part of you may live alone inside,
like a stone at the bottom of a well.

But the other part
must be so caught up
in the flurry of the world
that you shiver there inside
when outside, at forty days' distance, a leaf moves.

To wait for letters inside,
to sing sad songs,
or lie awake all night staring at the ceiling
is sweet but dangerous.

Look at your face from shave to shave,
forget your age,
watch out for lice
and for spring nights,
and always remember
to always eat every last piece of bread-

also, don't forget to laugh heartily.
And who knows,
the woman you love may stop loving you.
Don't say it's no big thing:
It's like the snapping of a green branch
to the man inside.

To think of roses and gardens inside is bad,
to think of seas and mountains is good.
Read and write without rest,
and I also advise weaving
and making mirrors.
I mean, it's not that you can't pass
ten or fifteen years inside
and more-

you can,
as long as the jewel
on the left side of your chest doesn't lose its luster!

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

AutoBio-Portia Nelson

Autobiography in 5 short Chapters.
-Portia Nelson

I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost... I am helpless.
It is my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
But it isn't my fault.
It still takes along time to get out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there. I still fall in... it's a habit.
My eyes are open. I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.

I walk down another street.