Youth Technology Team

As part of wrapping up an MFA, while at Acadia this summer I'm basically a hired gun interned Sharpie that will draw on command. One of the random gigs to crop up was a quick t-shirt logo for a Youth Technology Team of volunteers that are charged with melding a digital component into a Park visitor's experience.

The design was from a reference photo taken while on a field trip/tour I sketched out an abstracted profile of the primary group of peaks on the eastern end of Mount Desert Island (L to R: Pemmican, Cadillac/Dorr and Champlain). The initial grouping reminded me of a flock of birds or waves, and the revision posted above uses two contrasting fonts to set off and compliment the organic element (further reduced down to the archetypal image of just a solo Cadillac/Dorr Mountain). They wanted something simple and clean, and would work as just a single color print.

But as it turns out, the whole project got aborted, which was probably a good idea seeing as how a few days later while walking around downtown I caught sight of a dude wearing a tshirt that had a familiar-looking logo on it, albeit from a different perspective. A cursory Google Image search turned up an even better (but in my opinion still arguably different enough) take on the concept, this time for Acadia Senior College. Gee, and here I naively thought coming up with a design based on the single-most iconic aspect of the island would be "original." Almost as futile as drawing lobster gags in Maine.

Catching the Breeze

So during a recent interview by a reporter from a local paper, the "where do you get your ideas" question came up, and well what do you know, as it happened I was just inspired by a trip to the bathroom. 
No seriously: seems like half the restrooms around here have quite the stench when you walk in - but not from what you'd expect. In my opinion the chemical bouquet warfare of "air-fresheners" is more often than not much worse that anything that would ever come out of anyone's ass. The scent is usually marketed along the lines of something evocative and beautiful like "unicorn farts." And I kid you not, right there on the window ledge was a bottle labeled "Sea Breeze" with the backdrop being... a real harbor. Well, close enough for a cartoon..

"Well, if you can't believe what you read in a comic book, what can you believe?" - Bullwinkle

"Rogue" Redux

Just goes to show what a weird business this is: this panel finally saw print in this weekend's Fairbanks Daily News-Miner after over a year and a half later. The real-estate for color panel placement in the Sundays section is iffy at best, couple that with scraping the bottom of the funny-barrel as far as my backlog of submissions, and eventually you have little, ah, nuggets like this getting sifted through the sluice-box.
And the inspiration has more to do with the original painting by Charles S. Raleigh and a certain Australian giant crocodile indie horror film than any other infamous Rogue.

The Whole in One (More Tips + Advice)

One of the common traits exhibited by the majority of cartoonists I've met is of being humble. Genuinely nice folks who are generous with their time, and supportive and encouraging of others, most the time egos are held in check by some simple realities. Like a lot of artists in general, there's a dual awareness of being endowed with a creative skill not shared by many other folks, coupled with the realization how simply awesome it is to actually make a living (in the best of situations) doing what you love. 

Here in Maine we're living in temporary quarters that are situated right up against National Park lands and bordered on the other two sides by a cemetery and a golf course. Besides having fantastic access to strolling opportunities, sometimes several times a day the drive to and fro will wind about milling herds of golfers. As a non-player, it's an "activity" (I use that term loosely given the propensity of players who use motorized carts) that never ceases to make me wonder. It's an extension of my perspective on consciously choosing one's priorities and habits and how that will ultimately play a decisive role in fostering any creative, artistic endeavor, whether as a student, amateur or professional.

Via a recent post on Boing Boing, this is an excellent talk given by J.C. Herz for the Ringling College of Art & Design's 2011 Commencement Address: 

"Habits are powerful – people don’t realize how powerful habits are, and how much of their success or lack of success in life is attributable to sheer habit. Be aware of your habits, and what is turning in from an occasional to a regular thing, and what are the regular things that you don’t even think about any more, because they are so habitual that they have become invisible. Down to the very basics: how much and when do you sleep, what you eat, how you sit, whether you walk or bike or drive. When and where do you get your best ideas? What sorts of activities and conversations leave you feeling happier and smarter? What do you continually do that leaves you feeling demoralized. Be mindful of your habits. Make them intentional."

(More mullings below the fold...)

In Passing: Gene Colan

Howard the Duck #9 February 1977 (pencils: Colan/inker: Leialoha)

There are many titles associated with and accolades for the comic work of Gene Colan: Dracula, Daredevil, and Batman among the most popular, but for me it will always be Howard the Duck. When I was a young teenager I was constantly drawn to the weirder characters, and when Howard popped up as a counterpoint to one of my personal favorites, Man-Thing (in issues of "Giant-Sized Man-Thing" no less) he quickly became the antithesis of the stereotypical superhero, which I had begun to burn out on before finally abandoning them for the underground comix. And what with the Hollywood revival cannibalization of comics on the big, 3-D screen, it's unfortunately happening all over again:

Which tells us something about what comics can do that movies cannot: they cast their own kind of spell. No CGI, no Michael Bay-like pyrotechnics, just a glossy cover over newsprint with your basic four-color separation process. But comics have their own private voodoo, these stories you can enjoy by yourself -- and the world you voluntarily enter when you love comics and they speak to you is a private one. It is not a communal experience, a comic book: it is an intimate and personal one." - Tony Fitzpatrick on Artnet: "Bazooka Hulk" (via The Comics Reporter)

The news of Colan's passing brings up some major nostalgia for me, as Howard the Duck's attitude and ironic awareness was a stepping stone into a MADness, and the artwork of Colan gave life to a peculiar and powerful synthesis of fantasy and parody, a warped vision of reality + ridiculousness that appealed more and more to my mutating sense of aesthetics at the time. This is perfectly illustrated by the sample cover posted above: scenes like this were an inspiration in a way that no superpower could ever hope to express.

The draftsmanship and style of Colan's pencils are recognized as a one of the top-ranked talents in the Silver Age: his influence is industry-wide, testament to the tributes that are rippling out across the world of comics with his passing.

On The Path of Enlightenment

A belated Happy Father's Day: this one goes out to my dad, since he first turned me on to the teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh. I might have grown from such experiences but matured is another issue.

The recent "make one with everything" incident triggered the memory of when a group of Tibetan Buddhist sand-painters visited Fairbanks, and I almost lost a friend over my comment that I was going to bring along my cats for a truly transcendent mandala/litterbox experience. Some folks just don't get it, no worries though, just keep laughing anyways...

"Slobster"

This guy's been lumbering around my brain for a while, probably the character will turn up in a LowTide panel sooner than later. Until then, he'll just sit around occupying space and doing nothing.
Unlike someone else, who has been hitting the drawing board pretty early as of late: I dig getting to work at 6am, as it means I'm still four hours ahead of my alternate life up in Alaska. So around noon I can shift time-zones and and catch up with work in the future. And it's always a bonus to be riding the logistical wave of farming out the funnies to multiple publications and be somewhat ahead the curve as far as juggling who gets what and when - being a couple months out doesn't necessarily ever translate into being "ahead." To quote Nick Danger - how can you be in two places at all, when you're not anywhere at all?

"Shut Yer Trap"

In line for the dumbest gag of the year already? This would be the comedic equivalent of a snowman gag in Alaska, but ya gotta do what ya gotta due. When in Rome and all that...

(more mullings below the fold...)

Turtle Waxed

So much for altruistic instincts: a good-sized (about a foot-long shell) common snapping turtle was attempting to cross a busy street, and as we had passed the sad, run-over remains of one earlier in the day, we pulled over to help this one along its way back to the woods. Aside from the dangers of Reptile Associated Salmonellosis and missing digits (no such thing as safe handling when it comes to snappers), I was taught a valuable lesson about another, lesser-known defensive mechanism. My girlfriend sure got a good laugh at the sight of me running across the road while being doused in turtle piss, which, contrary to any alternative medicine rumors, has no health benefits and is most definitely not an aphrodisiac.

Probably most folks have experienced similar responses from cantankerous individuals who don't appreciate a good-will gesture. 

There's a related editorial cartoon drawn in 1807 by Alexander Anderson (not the recently deceased Rock & Bullwinkle creator of the same name) depicting a smuggler running afoul of Jefferson's Embargo Act of 1807. I find the self-censorship in lieu of any euphemism almost as amusing as the image, since this was in the days before the sophisticated language of comics hadn't evolved the symbols to graphically represent swearing ("grawlixes" according to Mort Walker's Lexicon of Comicana).

"Slug Shot"

Probably too much of a gardening gag for the average person to get.
After twenty-five-odd (and I do mean odd) years residing in the Interior, one of the many little things that fade from memory are these marvelous mucousy mollusks, who as of late have been busily sliming their way across the lawn, the truck, the shed, the porch etc. Technically one would use beer, not tequila, as a time-honored technique in slaying slugs, but besides wasting ale, who would want a bunch of drunk slugs creeping around outside all night?

"Coffee Slug"

After a good rain in this neck of the woods, the parking lot is carpeted with these guys. Myself, it's been a mighty slow haul to consciousness waiting for the caffeine to start perking in the morning, all the while hoping nothing comes down the road too fast.

"12 Angry Beavers"

Not sure if it's Leatherface or Ash being channeled here. This panel will also serve double-duty given the Maine lumber industry's dominance in this state - though the state seal will have to be edited.

In the meantime, nevermind Rise of Planet of the Apes:

ANCHORAGE, Alaska - The situation had gotten so bad between beavers and dogs that parks officials recently posted a sign at University Lake warning of aggressive beavers. - Read more: Fairbanks Daily News-Miner - Anchorage park officials warn of aggressive beavers in lake 

"Tick Yoga"

Good last-minute editorial call with putting clothes on 'em. Contortions aside, doing "tick checks" on yourself and any companions (especially the critters) after every hike is a crucial habit to learn around this neck of the woods. That and you get to reenact one of those nature documentaries where a bunch of monkeys all groom each other.
I'm in the process of compiling a batch of bad gags about this particular topic for an upcoming minicomic that ought to really, uh, tick people off. Lyme disease is certainly no laughing matter, but as with every other threat to health & sanity it helps to have a sense of humor.

"Moonhouse" (Welcome to the Island)

Recently took an interpretive cruise out to Baker Island accompanying a group of Park employees on a training run. Amidst all the photographs of island splendor (including the earliest lighthouse built in this neck of the woods) I never forget to pack along the trusty sketchbook. 
Because while the camera never lies, a cartoon will tell it like it really is.

"Keep the light on for me..."

"Fleeting Moments"

Call it the Ultimate Reality show. Actually, you see this all the time... that is, if anybody bothers looking anymore. Part of the disconnect with not just the environment, but with everything that's going on all around us.
This panel will probably work just as well in Alaska: just substitute sweeping vistas with mountains and glaciers instead. 

"Who Watches the Watchers?"

This place is definitely for the birds! In the space of one week here in Acadia I got to observe a Peregrine Falcon hunting along the cliff-side nesting area (an excellent example of a successful reintroduction of this magnificent species). An accompanying background soundtrack during this sunset display of aerial acrobatics was provided by the lilting warble of a thrush. This scene was then followed by watching the stark, graphic beauty (bold black + white plumage and red feet) of Black Guillemots swimming underwater while trolling for food, while I was perched above on the overlooking rocks of Otter Cliffs. Prior to these sightings was boating past a nesting Osprey atop its platform of sticks out in the Sound. Even our backyard feeder is attracting everything from Blue Jays, Goldfinches, Grosbeaks and assorted Warblers: a colorful riot to this Alaskan's eye, and one of the many pleasures highlighting our residency here in the Park.

"Buoy Eyeballs"

Another panel that doesn't quite bridge the gap between Alaska and Maine - although I suppose eventually I'll accumulate a suitable portfolio that will also double in South East Alaska. The ubiquitous flotillas of bobbers, floats and mooring buoys littering the oceanscape eventually become a part of the backdrop, and piles of traps in peoples front yards garner no more of a second look than a dog yard would in Fairbanks.

The frameless variation above is another panel slated for publication in Down East Magazine, joining the esteemed company of other Maine cartoonists such as David Jacobson, Jeff Pert and Bill Woodman.

Whorled Peas + New Job

Fingerprinting for the background check reveals important details about my character

So the exciting news is that it looks like I'm going to be a Ranger with the National Park Service here in Acadia: there's a part-time gig under the Interpretive division to staff the Islesford Historical Museum. There is some irony in that one of my childhood dreams was of being a Ranger, even to the point of touring Paul Smith's College as a prospective student. As it turned out, being a Ranger is less the romanticized "Strider" and more Natural Resource Management, and after observing that a significant number of graduates were getting employment in Alaska, I opted instead to just move up there anyways.

The outpost

Located out on Little Cranberry Island, I'll be catching a 45-minute long mail-boat ferry ride out of North East Harbor at 7am, for three 10's a week. Already did a sortie by accompanying a group of volunteers to mow the lawn - folks from the ranks of "Friends of Acadia" - a nonprofit conservation organization that provides innumerable efforts towards stewardship of the park. Being a life-long landlubber, the commute alone is entertaining on its own...

Assuming I pass the official background check for Federal employment (being a "James Smith" is probably an automatic red flag) - see the leftover fingerprint posted above - I'll undergo some training sessions and take the oath. 

I, [name], do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God. - 5 U.S.C. §3331

Aside from boning up on local history with a stack of books, it'll be an intense summer season coupled with a formal internship as well. I'll be doing more public demonstrations and drawing a series of images for usage in the Park: both pen & ink spot illustrations of various subjects around the island + generating a bunch more cartoons of "Chippy" engaged in random activities.

Being effectively marooned has always proven to be most inspirational, and given my previous experience with many years of being a waiter, in between the intermittent waves of visitors to the museum it'll surely prove to a rich resource in coming up with new material. I should probably stop using bad words on the blog, only promote wholesome family values, and not draw any more editorial cartoons making fun of the Feds. At least I'll have access to official US Government Skilcraft brand black ballpoint pens now, which is good seeing as how my stash of preferred implements (the free pens from Gold Hill Liquor & Gas on the Parks Highway) is running low.

"Hidden Drive"

"Hidden Drive" was in the running as the name for my recent re-branding for the new gag feature here in Maine. It seems that around every corner on this island, and all up & down the coastal route these warning signs are posted everywhere. Given the crazy topography of Down East it's inevitable to have some of the potentially deadliest runways into traffic I've seen - Batman couldn't do better for a secret Batcave entrance.

I've been here just long enough now to somewhat relax in the semi-familiar surroundings while driving around to slip into that daydream state and rely on habituated cues for navigating. But it's still new enough of a place that sometimes when I snap out of it I don't have a clue where I am, and the commute becomes getting lost again another path of discovery. Mind you, this confession isn't cause for concern, unless you are a passenger who has to be somewhere by a particular time.

As an aside: the very same day I doodled this panel out while browsing at the public library I happened across an interview in a recent New York Times Magazine with Shaun Tan. One quote in particular caught my eye, as it sums up both the challenge and the continual attraction to the creative act of drawing:

"You discover how confounding the world is when you try to draw it. You look at a car, and you try to see its car-ness, and you're like an immigrant to your own world. You don't have to travel to encounter weirdness. You wake up to it." - NYT Magazine, April 24, 2011

One of the best things to happen after being involved with the Literacy Council of Alaska was the adoption of Tan's "The Arrival" - one of my favorite books of sequential art - into their ESL program. It's fantastical, wordless narrative tells the story of what it feels like to move to a strange, new world and experience scenes that are beautiful, bewildering and bizarre.

Some More Maine Pics

Uploaded another set of images into the Picasa Web-Albums, this time from a jaunt out to Islesford, Maine (located on Little Cranberry Island) aboard the morning mail-boat ferry.

One critical symptom you are officially a tourist is not caring how ridiculous you look intently taking picture of piles of ropes out on a dock, while annoyed bemused fishermen look on.

I keep returning to this picture, as it's one of the more poignant images in this set. Culled from dozens of different shots, the composition and color is perfect - definitely slated to be the front cover of something.

"Sucks to be you..."

Alaska meets Maine in a very, very tiny Godzilla versus Mothra sense. Absolute worst-case scenario, unless you count simultaneously getting West Nile Virus and Lyme Disease. It's both a matter of perspective and scale to not worry about large carnivores anymore as the real danger now comes from something the size of a pepper flake.

"Perseverance"

Another dual-nature (eh) panel. It's only because of the miracle of technology that I was spared the embarrassment of a typo - sad since there's only one dam word in the cartoon - Blogger spellcheck caught it after typing the post title.
Meanwhile...

Swedish police called to fight beaver invasion