a million years later….
i finished inking the first ink on the pages of my short comic about my experiences as a white member of our society. after i put up klu klux kraken i realized that that comic leaves us hanging. we need to do something…but what? my first “what” is this comic i was born in a white town. i just want to identify that racism is prevalent and start a conversation about it. so i’m sharing my–not that exciting–but hopefully relevant first thoughts about race and how i have interacted with it in my own life.
or something like that.
at least my self-portraits are convincing. here is misha saying, “two mommies!!” as she points to some of my self-portrait work in this comic.
i have been doing a lot of my comicking as my children run about. i can’t survive their bedtimes to do art later…so i am learning to do art as they interact with me. it’s rough. my train of thought is often derailed. and i get bumped and get grumpy about getting bumped…but at least i’m still going!
though i do not have a room of my own…maybe i am a new breed of writer. one who can function amidst chaos….
though i still wouldn’t mind a room of my own….
maybe one day…and then i will get bored and wander out of it to see where all the excitement is.
my desk is set up!!!!! i could not be more excited. which goes to prove i am a total comic booking geek. i love working on comics! i get so excited just thinking about them! but not just any comics. i cannot do the hero comics–as eddie campbell calls them. i love the alternatives. like most of life, i love the alternatives. i love being a woman graphic novelist.
i went through a lot of my stuff as i unpacked & organized. i did not (as i was tempted to do due to minimalism or fear of criticism) recycle all of the stories from my last writer’s workshop. i kept them. i want to be serious. i want to do re-writes & edit & fine tune. i want to do it all. and i want to draw pictures to go with my words.
i want to draw pictures.
i am 45 years old & i know this about me: i want to draw pictures.
i’m headed back to school after a semester off. maybe i will get my degree. maybe i will get my mother-fucking MFA. who knows? poppy will be weaned in the foreseeable future. misha is already crazy independent. i am only going to have more & more time to work on my comics. and i am going to work on my comics. this is who i am. this is what i do.
so, come hell or high water, there will be new pages of moses jones next week! and, you know what, just for shits & giggles, i might work on another comic as well.
here i am. here i stay.
at the point of this update, my desk–the home of my art & writings–is in a uhaul somewhere in stoughton, wisconsin en route to madison. i miss my desk terribly and anxiously await her arrival.
meanwhile, i doodle on. as my life rises and falls beneath my feet, i doodle on. i ride the waves of my own drama while i doodle and vent in the pages of my journal.
mojo, i have not forsaken you! i keep you close, but do not dare remove you from the portfolio which is your temporary home for fear of young children wreaking havoc on your fragile pages….
and i continue to read amanda palmer’s book the art of asking. i think i have ventured past the point where i am envious, petty, and sad–and now i am able to enjoy the book. i fear repeating my mistake of making contact with someone who seems a kindred soul. lynda barry has taught me to stay hidden in my hole. but i still fantasize about it. what would amanda palmer & i talk about at lunch? would she like my comic? would she make me some new eyebrows? what would she wear? would she let me draw on her eyebrows?
i’m a crazy stalker chick. there is no denying that. however, the book does have me wondering–in addition to what would happen if i started asking for things–where in my life can i be more giving of things? any book that gets me thinking is a good book in my opinion. hers is a good book. a memoir more than a self-help. and it isn’t chronological. and there aren’t chapters per se. she seems authentic. i like that. neil chose well. i look forward to attending one of their anniversary parties once amanda palmer & i have become best friends & gotten matching tattoos.
i finished the last character profile painting last night at one in the morning as my ex-husband held our wide-awake baby and glowered at me. that was simon starbuckle’s painting–perhaps my favorite & the one i am most happy with. maybe i should have my ex glare at me while holding the baby for all my work. ha!
i finished. despite depression. despite thoughts of–why don’t i just drop out of school? despite feeling like i’m a fraud to call myself an artist. despite four kids and an ex plotting against my project. i finished the four character profiles. now i have one more of the big paintings to finish before my critique tomorrow at 1:20. will it happen? stay tuned. meanwhile i have to give a presentation today in another class. meanwhile i have the toddler hitting the baby. the cat attacking the nine year old. and the six year old screaming at me that i hate him. dishes to do. dinners to cook. toilets to clean. diapers to wash….
my watercolor professor says i need the fabled “room of my own.” yes, that, perhaps, and a visit from mary fucking poppins.