Sunday, October 26, 2008


I would like it to be as simple as sitting down and drawing whatever is in my mind. The problem is that my mind is such a mess. There are some good ideas in there but there are so many bad ideas: derivative ideas, half-witted ideas, shallow ideas, lazy ideas, self-indulgent ideas, spiteful ideas. The difficulty comes in sorting them out, and it's amazing how alluring those bad ideas can be, so alluring they look like good ideas. The hope is that when I am done mostly good ideas will have gotten out and on the paper there will be something beautiful.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

True Love Broken Heart

I hate the nervous feeling I get when I feel like I don't have any ideas for new projects or new comics. I'll start trying to force an idea out of my head. I'll start searching for ideas within every second of my life. I stubbed my toe, is that an idea? I drank a glass of water, is that an idea? I'm trying to think of an idea, is that an idea? Is that a concept? Is that something I can run with? An idea, an idea, I need an idea.

Which is all really silly, because for me ideas come out of the blue and there is no way of forcing them out. The best thing to do is just forget about it.

But I don't. I just run my mind in little circles trying to think of an idea.

Which is doubly silly because I have a notebook that I have been keeping for six years that is filled with all sorts of ideas I didn't have the time or inclination to turn into finished projects.

Monday, October 13, 2008


Sometimes it feels like I can't draw at all. I become convinced that I am holding my pen incorrectly and that the pen I am holding incorrectly isn't even the pen I should be using. It's like playing golf with a shovel. It seems obvious that I am just a massive collection of bad artistic habits that will have to be broken in order for me to get anywhere. Sitting at my desk with the pen in my hand feels as awkward as putting on a suit and tie backwards.

That's what it feels like sometimes.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

A Sense of Purpose (Or Lack of Purpose)

Sometimes I draw with a purpose and sometimes I don't. Sometimes I just draw faces and I really have no idea what will come out. One line will lead to another and then another. What amazes me is that drawing this way results in something very distinct. Faces appear with definite character, but where did that character come from? 

It's something I drew and yet it feels like I had very little to do with the actual drawing.