Why my drawings are as they are:

As a child, I had several drawing instructors. I had a huge crush on one of them. She was a talented cartoonist with fine arts training. Smart, cute, a no-harness and no help kind of rock climber before it was cool to go off and break your leg, she listened to early eighties metal and let me draw whatever I wanted to. I still have the sketchbook and card she made me for my birthday one year. I pretty much hated my other art teachers. They had no interest in helping me realize my comicbook dreams.

Still, I guess I did okay under them. In 1990, a pastel of mine sold for $125. After agent and gallery fees, this netted me $75 (which, at age nine, was still a lot). My mom reinvested the cash into my classes. I was dismayed.

A few years later, I received some some of the most serendipitous advice I have ever been given. A family friend, who worked as an editor at DC Comics, looked over my sketches and suggested I avoid taking any art classes. I was so pleased by this, I almost forgave him for telling me the capes I drew on my heroes were too long. Had he seen any Batman books recently? That guy's cape could get to twice his height.

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For Every Problem, a Solution (4)

God as depicted throughout the ages. No Alanis Morissette, and, no, that isn't ironic.

An introduction to a book that doesn't exist:

Prose and verse are generally accepted as distinct writing formats with their own rules, styles, and grammars. Though their borders are somewhat vague, they have come to be seen as something of a dichotomy in the eyes of the general public. There are, however, at least 3 other popular approaches to writing as exhibited in picture-books, comicbooks, and plays. Though sometimes given short shrift, these styles are accepted as literature. They are included in libraries, book stores, and academic study. Most importantly, they are read. In the general case, there is clearly writing being done in the creation of any one of these. But what of the wordless comic or silent play? Should we consider scripts written, but fully realized plays, comics, and picture-books, to be performance, art, or some other kind of non-literature? These worries of theory are kinks to be worked out, surely, but they are not of immediate practical concern to the writer...

My room is a mess, my painting unfinished.

...and I still haven't found a good alternative to my scanner with its missing power-cord. Almost finished with this painting, though. I just need to put in a bus seat in front of and behind the passenger. Incidentally, the Seattle Metro buses have the ugliest upholstery I can remember seeing, and I spent five years working at a used furniture store.

Pointless Man

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