"Mentorship" Invitational + NCS Annual Review

A spur-of-the-moment show just opened up (bonus: extended hours over the same weekend as Festival held right next door) that'll plug a temporary 2-week hole in the UAF art department's gallery calendar. Ostensibly through some sample faculty work juxtaposed with a resultant network of student pieces, both majors + alumni, it exhibits the interconnected threads running throughout our creative community. My quartet of fresh Nuggets panels, sans header, are flanking the digital display alongside a couple of simply gorgeous mixed media from Brianna Reagan (website here). This immediately doubles my roster of public gigs, not that a whopping two shows will put a dent against the new no-show edict. Didn't have any trouble culling from the current crop of cartoons, which included "Alaskan Barbarians," and several as-yet unpublished (here or yet in print) panels "Moose-Subie," "Costcoho," and "Silent P." Stay 'tooned...

Speaking of introspective/retrospective perspective, it was time for another annual effort, the submission of last year's best-of to the National Cartoonist's Society's Division Awards for Newspaper Panel (link to previous posts about last year, 2024 and again back in 2011). As always, a humbling task which always leaves me personally with a deep gratitude for the network - similar to the theme of the ad-hoc faculty show - of other individuals and groups that all appear on the same page, whether it's reviews of other artist's shows and work, concerts, performances, readings etc.
I selected a set of single panels: the aforementioned "Alaskan Barbarians," and another unpublished piece "The Otter Family," last year's xmas panel "They're Baying Our Song," "S'not," "Phishing," "Old Timer," and "Melatonin." A last one, "Polar Bowler," unfortunately was discovered to have been drawn the year before, though technically published last year, and so therefore is still eligible. I mean, on the offhand chance I happen to get shortlisted. One side-issue is how I never seem to have enough two-panels to submit an entry into that division, or I should say ones that I think are good enough. Maybe over a couplefew years I could come up with a winning package, but it'll all have to get rolled over into the next book.

On a closing note, I was pleased to pare down my essentials and take a snapshot of what I typically use when drawing a cartoon: everything was there except the Bristol board (usually Strathmore series 400). Technically I forgot a cork-backed ruler, though I sometimes use the cardboard back of the Bristol pad to fill in, esp. when rendering the initial boundaries of the initial panel border/frame. Included is a plastic eraser (easier to rub off pencil without rubbing off the ink); Dr. Ph. Martin's Black Star India ink (matte, which dries super fast, flat and black - useful for demos, as opposed to the richer but comparatively slower drying Winsor & Newton and Sennelier brands I frequently use at home); a dip-pen with a Hunt #512 nib (a note that of the two listed at the link the #513EF is actually much more flexible than the #512 which I use for 80% of my inking) in a wooden holder; two thicknesses or line weights of Microns (still slightly more opaque than Copics IMHO) - one used for inking in the panel borders + lettering, the other, thinner one for the cartoon balloons + details; and, last but not least, my preferred pencil: a basswood Harvest 320 #1 from Musgrave Pencil Company (makers of the yummy Tennessee Red reviewed here) - previous to this company I hadn't seen an actual #1's in the wild, just the ubiquitous #2's, which are a wee bit more greasy and soft, prone to smearing and thus not as suitable for sketchbook doodling.

Keys to The Universe

Catching Up with Comics + Going with the Flow

"Research" materials

At the close of another semester and over the little "break" in-between, I'm also in-between gigs, and so will be prepping for the annual Ursa exhibit (see previous post), taking down the Pakalolo show, and catching up on my stack of books to read + comics to draw. Some of the notable acquisitions for my collection at the office include: Howard Cruse's "Stuck Rubber Baby" whom I had never even heard of before, and contains some of the most luxuriously rendered textures I've ever seen.

Also recently splurged on the deluxe canvas slipcase edition of Loeb/Sale's "Superman for All Seasons"; another in Brremaud & Bertolucci's wordless day-in-the-life series "LOVE: The Tiger"; and “Nuking Alaska: Notes of an Atomic Fugitive” from Alaska’s own Peter Dunlap-Shoh (review here + publisher's website here), and a bonus capybara (for reasons explained below).

Stop exaggerating how big it is

It appears that there has been a breakdown in the system... is it any wonder I have basic issues with trust? Many of us are into comics because we are somewhat of control freaks, and now my sense of fairness and justice in the world has been completely undermined. Seriously though, this is why I lose my mind even before starting to draw any goddamned thing, when the foundation you are trying to build upon is a lie.

But seriously, later on here I'll have another motherlode of a recap re: the comics class officially debut during a normal semester. In the meantime here's a little teaser of the next installment of studio art courses I'll be rolling out as the upgrading of the drawing department continues apace. I'm thoroughly excited to launch a personal passion of mine, and expand upon the fundamental medium of the entire program.

clockwise from top left: Garth Williams/E.H.Shephard/Frank Frazetta/Robert Crumb

And in closing I would be remiss in mentioning an absolutely wonderful & enchanting movie I was lucky enough to catch the last day it was on the big screen here in the 'Banks. Ginys Zilbalodis' "Flow" (trailer here) is a magical, transcendent experience - not since seeing "The Iron Giant" back in 1999 has an animated feature so enraptured me - this was pure delight. Also one of my pet peeves that prevents me from watching 99% of contemporary animated movies was blissfully avoided with an entirely dialogue-free production, so no intrusively annoying and tiresomely stupid famous-actor voiceovers. As a cat daddy, the adventures of the protagonist kept me on the edge of my seat for half the show, and it was quite emotionally exhausting, if not altogether rewarding and reflective afterwards. Not only are the reviews all outstanding, and the writer/director/producer even made the music, the entire soundtrack for which I promptly purchased, and have been replaying with earphones on at the studio - home and school - ever since.

Dr. Indiginerd

Quick note of thanks to the UAF College of Indigenous Studies for hosting a visit  from Lee Francis IV, aka Dr. Indiginerd. He opened the first Native American comic shop (Red Planet/now ATCG) and the first Indigenous Comic-Con (now Indigenous Pop Expo). We got to hang out for a while inbetween his presentations for Indigenous People's Day, and geeking out about comics in my office was on of the highlights of the semester for me: it's so inspirational to connect with folks in the comics world and share stories.

Frazetta Homage

Frank Frazetta was one of the first artistic influences on me as an art major back in highschool - not that anyone would ever suspect it with such a completely different style and medium and subject matter. The inspiration came from connecting fantasy art (and the horror and science fiction that I'd been reading) with fine art. The source was constant exposure to the cover illustrations on the works of Michael Moorcock (Elric of Melniboné series and the Eternal Champion cycle etc.), Fritz Leiber's "Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser," and of course, Robert E. Howard's "Conan," where Frank's imagery was a perfect fit. For many, many years I have always included a few of his pen & ink pieces to show to aspiring students when we cover the medium. Recently I've been on a sort of a Frazetta revival since joining some social media groups dedicated to his art, like Frazetta Girls (website here + Instagram), and this particular piece, "The Mammoth" (1974, oil on board, 16x24”), still remains one of my all-time favorites. For the past year every time I took a class on a field trip to do reference sketching up at the UAF Museum of the North I would remember this work, and make a mental note to try and recreate it: it was worth every minute of time spent building that giant pencil. 

Commission: "Food Chain"

Throughout this past year I've declined dozens of requests about freelance gigs this year, and learning to say “no – thank you” is a recurring skill I am constantly in need of practicing. This on account of shifting into high gear for most of the year as full-time faculty for the first time ever in my academic career. SO once again I have empathy with the average Beginning Drawing student who juggles other classes, perhaps employment and not to mention a life, say, friends, family and maybe even a relationship into the mix. So on a functional + practical level it's a simple matter of time management to maintain healthy boundaries. While I normally rebuff many of the monthly queries on account of folks just simply not understanding that getting a logo for your business is on the same level as hiring an contractor to build your store, or an electrician to wire it, or plumber to install fixtures, or any number of other services you would hire a professional to do. In other words, they get sticker shock over estimates on how much it’ll cost. Arguably the artwork represents the public face and is the literal symbol of an establishment or product, and the value of that should be commiserate with what it’s worth. Unfortunately the proliferation of crowdsourced logo design (Fiverr, 99designs et al) has accelerated the race to the financial bottom so that it’s even more of a challenge these days to convince people to support the arts in a meaningful (ie monetary/living income) way – nevermind recommending students pursue a career path in the arts. Traditionally the higher-end client gigs aid in enabling a couplefew passion projects to happen, like for a friend or favorite cause, in my case advocating for literacy. 

All that being said every once in a while comes along a case where you just feel how much of a rare privilege it can be to bring someone else's vision into reality - a chance to draw what they're seeing inside themselves. And it's also for both a friend and a real good cause too. So it's real important to allow yourself the time to take those opportunities when and if they ever do come along.

Because struggling to realize your own vision is challenging enough of a task let alone taking on another's imagery, and that stress can be a serious creativity-killer, and not having a handle on the logistics means opening the door to a lot of frustration and resentment. Having to stare down the barrel - of an ink cartridge - and force yourself to that's when the difference between a Fine Artist versus a Commercial Artist is, er, well... literally drawn. And answering those hard questions when you're all alone looking at the clock, the calendar and your conscience, wondering how and why you find yourself in this situation again, under deadline, and under so much pressure. Maybe that's one main reason why I continually finding myself relating to Beginning Drawing students who routinely back themselves up into a corner when it comes time to produce another piece for the critique that's now only a few hours away.

While it’s the never ending hustle that really wears one down, the logistics of juggling multiple freelance projects while working a 9-5 job that can ultimately smother what remains of the creative spirit. And it hammers home yet again how much of the secret of success is so often simple perseverance – oftentimes over the years I’ve looked around and wondered what the heck happened to all of the artists I’ve known, where did they all go, and why did they stop making art? So much of it is a matter of endurance, and that I'm still here on account of being to stubborn, or stupid, or selfish (usually a custom blend). And it means real humbleness to having something of a skill that someone else sees as special, and honor implied when asked to make art for something besides yourself.

PS: A note that this is one of many archived draft posts I'm slowly revising if still applicable. Since I'm slightly ahead of the curve when it comes to new output for both the newspaper and Ink & Snow, I can remember to look at the list of mothballed musings and update 'em accordingly. So this one was originally written at the end of 2022, but still checks out, which can be alternately reaffirming and/or thoroughly depressing (or both).

Xmas 2023

 

Have a safe and peaceful holiday season from all of us at Ink & Snow!

Out & About: Cafe Sketch Edition + "Sir, This is an Arby's"

It's been a decade since the last post in this series, so here's another one from recent adventures and outings around town. You know when you give an honest answer to a simple question that 99% of the time the rest of society just gives the answer so as to go-along-to-get-along (see Harlan Ellison's "Repent, Harlequin! Said the Ticktockman"). You certainly don't expect such refreshing honesty much less existential insight at a drive-through.

Now I had never met the dude before, and presumably never will see him again, but this guy that one night while waiting to pick up some folks from the airport who took my order, rang me up, and handed out the bag of burgers. Brings to mind a similar experience a few months later with a guy making my sammich (of which I have a certain affinity & experience with) at the campus Subway. Dude was so into making it that he gave a running commentary of a stream of positive affirmation and pleasant surprise at how awesome the sub was. It being his first day on the job, I hope it was full of such similar discoveries, and that attitude continues nomatter where they wind up next.

I am trying as often as possible to sit with a sketchbook at least one if not two mornings a week at the usual goatee-stroking scene, since they open at 6:30am and cartoonists should keep baker's hours anyways. And since we're in the dark end of the season it's a fairly commonplace experience to have someone leave their headlights on while idling their vehicle outside the cafe as they wait to place and pick up an order. I'd estimate it's approximately the same percentage of folks who don't dim highbeams and/or use LED headlights (stay 'tooned for a good little rant + editorial about that sore subject). Also I can recall not too long ago the "lone wolf" weirdo stereotype with someone off in their world, disconnected with reality. So now these days it seems the reverse, and we're adrift alone amongst a sea of insanity and complete zombification with hand-held devices. Including me.

Misc. Meta Mullings + Meme Dump

It seems all I’m good for is making stupid silly little pictures when war is raging, while the planet is being poisoned & plundered, I’m not helping, and everything can feel so helpless. Maybe it’s the buffer zone against reality as it continues to etch away at the edges of awareness, slowly dawning on the buried periphery of the subconscious. More nuggets below the fold.

#@&∞≈†*!!

As a sorta setup to tomorrow's post, here's a new entry in the annals of cartooning: the latest/oldest usage of the grawlix in print, created by Gene Carr Nov. 1st, 1901. The one previously thought to be the first instance was this one from "The Katzenjammer Kids"). And here's a bit more context on the spectrum of symbol swearing, plus some perspective on the print (and tv) media's inexorable evolution with cussing, and bonus history about Lady Bountiful.

I go through phases where I swear too much. When cycling back into polite society I’ll do my best to try and rein it in, but the eventually edges get frayed and things wear through. Unfiltered doodles are at the bottom of a lot of ideas, but given the family-friendly demographics of newspaper readership I often find myself needing tactful edits to maintain community standards of civil discourse. The upcoming panel posted tomorrow will for example illustrate the spread of possibilities along the cartoon cursing continuum. 

In Passing: Sixcats & The Science Enthusiast

Thirty-one year ago in June 1990 I moved into a funky little Quonset hut (and then shortly thereafter downsized into an even tinier cabin next-door) on Geist Road in Fairbanks. It shared a fence with a McDonalds, where for many years an infamous effigy of Ronald hung from the neighbor’s tree right over the drive-through. That was one clue about the mysterious hidden Eden secreted away right on the other side of the ten-foot fencing: it hid away an oasis of lush gardens + weathered wood that was in complete contrast with the surrounding urban ugliness. My new landlady, Cathleen Doyle, was supportive, kind and accommodating to me while I was at a very fragile stage in my recovery: just over one year clean I had separated from a long-term relationship, breaking off a marriage engagement and taking my cat (Sneakers) to strike out on our own. Picking up the pieces of previous goals, I enrolled in Beginning Drawing with Larry Vienneau in the fall semester. I can still remember slipping out from behind the gate to hike down the road and up the hill to campus, and, still suffering lingering side-effects from residual paranoia, breaking out in a nervous sweat from the exposure to all the strange people in their cars driving past.

Fast-forward to 1998, and I got to proudly give a special preview (pictured) of my thesis show to “Sixcats” at the UAF art gallery. Now, in 2021, after teaching my own students in my own Beginning Drawing class, I left class early to attend her celebration of life, which was held on campus, fittingly enough, at the Georgeson Botanical Garden. From my perspective standing on the fringe of the crowd it was a deeply affirming testament to see the range of relationships she cultivated and the web of wonderful friendships + love that grew from her connections. I chickened out, got overwhelmed and didn’t step up and share what I wanted, so here I am on my blog again, trying to wrangle the words to express what I really meant to say.

One of the very best things about what I do as a cartoonist is getting to see – well, technically hear - a certain, special side of friends, family and fans that is disproportionate to the reality of what normal, everyday experiences most folks have of other people. Meaning, I get to hear a lot of their laughter. And this is where Cathleen is forever etched upon my memory: she had the absolute greatest laugh of anyone I know. More of a guffaw, big and from the belly, loud and free, sharing the joy to all within earshot. Her laughter was literally larger than life, as I heard it reverberate throughout the remembrances shared at the garden, and I can still hear it echo even as I write these words. As a closing note, it was at that residence where I learned about the ol’ eucalyptus-in-the-outhouse trick, and that odor is forever associated with her, especially given her aromatheraputic sidework as a masseuse. I brought a sprig to the memorial in my pocket, as aural is second only to olfactory when it comes to triggering memories. As pictured the main bouquet is in the corner of the current outhouse, reminding me every morning that nomatter how shitty things are, you can always usually catch a whiff of better things ahead.

“Neal Brown has died. The former leader of Poker Flat Research Range and the smiling, suspender-wearing man remembered by many Alaska kids was 82 years old. Born in Idaho, Brown grew up on a farm in Pullman, Washington. He made his way to Alaska in 1963. Here, in 1971, he became the first director of the brand-new Poker Flat Research Range north of Fairbanks, helping space physicists like himself launch more than 200 rockets. After 21 years at UAF’s Geophysical Institute without a break, he then took a professional sabbatical at the University of Colorado in Boulder. There, he discovered a passion — sharing science with non-scientists, especially kids.” - Alaska Science Forum, July 29, 2021, by Ned Rozell

For many months I’d been enjoying seeing samples from Neal's daily doodles, some of which - along with classics like Bullwinkle, Shmoo and Hobbes - were inspired by my own sketches and process posts on social media. They never failed to make my day, and now a month later their absence is a presence that is has left a visual, and emotional space - one that can't ever be erased.

Right up until his hospitalization he was still at it, and I had joked about being glad he’s retired from UAF and moved from Fairbanks because at his rate of production (ten a day!) I would soon be facing some serious competition. One of the things I appreciated about him was his always taking things seriously, which meant he was always really listening and paying attention. The most basic questions from a beginner were always treated with equal respect.

Our initial area of common interest was comics, and Neal had divested himself of his books before the big move to Lebanon, NH. The crown jewel of his collection was Walt Kelly’s “Pogo,” which we had talked about quite often. I had been concocting a scheme to show up back at one of my favorite institutions, the Center for Cartoon Studies, which is a stone’s throw away from his new digs. My plan was to drag him along for a summer workshop so as to further hone his budding talents.

In this original post I made after the commission back in 2013 there’s a process image that shows Neal’s vision he had of himself, somewhat 2-dimensional. While my version might have been the closest thing at the time to realizing his grand vision of conducting the northern lights made manifest, this ten-second sequence (@1.34) captured by the Aurora Chasers is the penultimate encapsulation. Also preserved for posterity is one of his presentations on the aurora here.

Thinking about Neal now reminds me of the fact that even in the bright days of summer, the aurora borealis is always going on, even when you can’t see it. For most of the year it’s just not dark enough, but believe it - it’s always out there shining and dancing away, spreading its awesomely joyous energy. So, not unlike his memory, which is also still with us, that nomatter how much science can explain, there will always still be a little something left of mystery & magic… thanks for the lessons Neal.

Art Supplies in Alaska

Way up here in the Interior we are at a distinct disadvantage when it comes to procuring the tools of our trade, be it Cartooning, Drawing, Fine Art or whatever. Alaska does have one actual art supply store down in the big city: Blaine's located in los Anchorage, and I've known folks to do the 800-mile road trip just for that reason alone (I did it once with a housemate for straight down & back again bomb-run for doughnuts, but this isn't the time to get into that).

Had to do an emergency supply run around town to try and locate some workable fixative for classes, and struck out at the top only five choices in town. As an aside this particular instance of sticker shock was so egregious it caught my eye and merited a snapshot, and price comparison. And people think I'm joking when I say that even with a 50% off coupon you'll still save money buying online versus at the corporate chains - even with priority shipping fees.

Lots of folks equate Joann’s and Michael’s craft stores as interchangeable as Coke/Pepsi or Ford/Chevy or Mac/PC, but there are a few subtle distinctions. One is how Michael's has its own line of art supplies, the Artists Loft brand, which in my experience has some of the absolute worst materials. And when you are teaching beginning students it's especially crucial to not frustrate their initial explorations into making art by making them crutch their way using inferior supplies (which in turn means subjecting them to the cruel & unusual industry devoted to separating artists from their money with exotic art materials). Another is how much inventory at Joann’s is kept under lock + key behind giant glass display cases, which requires the additional step of tracking down someone free somewhere out on the floor for assistance. Which, in my experience, given the preponderance of poorly-staffed and untrained help usually on hand at these chain stores, can be quite a quest in itself. One could also argue against the marketing strategy behind making a customer feel like a petty thief, regardless of any shoplifting issues.

Speaking of getting ripped off, as an art teacher I continually warn students about how much we get taken for a ride on supplies, and for this post we won’t even start in on the notorious Alaskan shipping woes esp. what with the “contiguous states” caveats snuck into the fine print at the bottom of most orders and specials (“certain restrictions apply!”).

Here’s a quick sample list of what materials I used in a random weekend at the studio: the first price is Dick Blick versus Michael’s:

Mixed Media paper $6.28 vs $12.99 

Bristol Board $11.64 vs $17.99 

India Ink $6.65 vs 9.99 

Marker set $21.99 vs 49.99 

Brush $12.04 vs $13.99 

Pocket brush $11.49 vs $30.99 

Watercolor pencil set $10.79 vs $22.99 

Total: $80.88* vs $158.73** 

*plus free shipping (Lower 48) + another 10% off 

** these are on-line prices… costs are even higher still for in-store, as we get gouged AGAIN when the shipping costs are passed along to the customer.

 

Pencil Pushing

Here we get closer to the absolute heart of the matter, of what it truly means to DRAW. When it comes to pencils, there’s nothing more simple + immediate, and it doesn’t need any expensive technology, or another update, or even electricity for that matter. It’s not that far away from scratching on a cave wall with the end of a burnt stick, reminding us where we really are as far as our place in the grand scheme of things in the universe. And probably one of the most crucial, fundamental skills I try hardest to impress upon Beginning Drawing students is finesse ("refinement or delicacy of workmanship, structure, or texture... skillful handling of a situation : adroit maneuvering). Second only to inking, there isn't much of anything else that one can hold within one's own hand which has the power to exhibit so much nuance and subtlety, and command such a range of expressive mark-making.
Okay maybe that’s a bit much for reviewing a pencil.

So I recently received my order for a new line of Musgrave pencils, a big, beautiful box (bonus points for a handwritten thank-you note w/a couple free samples) of their “Tennessee Red” brand. I’ll link a couple other more professional review sites here and here, as there is a whole other level of uber-geeks into rating pencil performance. As is my usual MO, this is more of a quick & dirty, real-world practical application of materials that I use both in the studio and the classroom. Similar to the swatch tests I did a while back when comparing & contrasting different inks against a variety of papers, I’ve uploaded here some samples made specifically for this post. More below the fold!

"Holy Astringent Plum-like Fruit"

 

On account of the giant herds of invading redpolls pillaging our feeders, at times well over a hundred carpeting the snow around the cabin, there was an alarming number of collisions with the window closest to the feeders. When the light was right it would create the illusion of open air and so every day we'd hear a whump. Sometimes even a feather would stay stuck on the glass - examination afterwards always revealed no injuries or deaths btw, probably because they couldn't build up any speed from their starting point nearby on the ground. So my first attempt was a temporary silhouette of a bird of prey, like maybe a hawk, or raven. But as astutely pointed out by MoochieBear, it was far more reminiscent of a somewhat similar logo. Hmmm...

...which inevitably leads down another rabbit-hole. I might not be so much into binging out on any other media anymore than the original excuse to curl up on the couch with a kitty for companionship + comfort.

New Comics/Old Favorites

I recently visited our local comic shop for the first time in over a year, and rejoining my fellow vaccinated + masked friends was a real treat. As usual a great team of friendly, knowledgeable folks was on hand to help me start catching up, and of course the Kevin the resident comics druid. I say that because I showed him the cover art for one book on my wishlist and he instantly recalled where the last copy was in his store amidst thousands of others. He’s one of those old-school shopkeepers who knows my taste so well I’d buy anything he recommends without question (Sue down at the old Hoitt’s Music was the same way – I’d walk in and she’d have stuff already set aside). But then you watch him turn and give equal treatment to an eight-year-old aficionado with encyclopedic trivia.

I got caught up on some titles that I've been meaning to check out, first and foremost of which was "Monster," Barry Windsor-Smith’s first book in sixteen years. He's an artist who sets the bar for pen + ink, and I showcase examples of his work in every drawing class - it's well-worth studying nomatter what the subject matter… just incredible linework and technique. It's the sort of tome you should read while standing up, at one of those old-fashioned lecterns or a vintage stand, with a tweed jacket + suede elbow patches. Also scored a few anthologies; the recent Comics Journal, The Nib, and unfortunately the final edition of Full Bleed from IDW.

front + back covers of the personally seminal issue #8

Probably one of the more sentimental purchases I've made was this ultimate homage to nostalgia, the amazing one-shot 50th anniversary capstone edition of Slow Death from legendary Last Gasp. I had commented elsewhere on another thread about how the original series got me back into not only reading but creating comics in highschool. At the time I had burnt out on superheroes, but then discovered a whole new world of underground comix by astonishing artists dealing with fun topics like extinction, nuclear contamination, war, and ecological collapse. You know, inspirational stuff.

Another outstanding discovery was the recent graphic novel "Sabrina" by Nick Drnaso. I'll let a handful of other reviewers speak to the subtlety of this work, starting with The New Yorker's D.T. Max, who titled his article "Bleak Brilliance" and described it as "...a comic whose drab tonalities and deliberate slowness challenged a genre that leans toward the overheated.” Similarly Ed Park at the New York Times calls it a “profoundly American nightmare,” and no less a fellow purveyor of similar aesthetics, Chris Ware, writes in a Guardian review that Drnaso has created “…a perspicacious and chilling analysis of the nature of trust and truth and the erosion of both in the age of the internet.”

Drnaso illustrates sequences of “mundane” scenarios, almost equally boring regardless of whatever they respectively depict – and example in getting horrifying news is shown about as intense as getting ready for work in the morning - while “trapped in an atmospheric cloud that makes each quiet moment awkward and suspect” (John Seven at The Comics Beat). Daphne Milner for It’s Nice That notes “It is this visual subtlety that lends the graphic novel its power. Sabrina is, in many ways, a critique on the despondency that develops from hours spent scrolling through social media, a critique that is strengthened by Nick’s deadpan graphics.” Review after review notes how the limited palette, flat areas of sidewalk-chalk spot-color, is used hand-in-glove with a simplistic rendering style that, along with an anesthetized aesthetic of almost anonymous, barely-featured characters, sets up a muddied, emotional pace, a visual trudge. The slowly curdling sense of existential dread is metranomed with a font that reminds one of the fine print on the fold-out warnings inside bottles of medication. Even the uniform weight of his contour lines, in particular the establishing shots of interiors + exteriors, place the story in an empty setting reminiscent of traced architectural drawings from reference shots taken in any suburban dead zone. I'm currently analyzing Seth's penultimate publication "Clyde Fans," (review coming soon) and Drnaso joins the pantheon of introspective masters of the genre with this effort. It only took me two evenings of obsessive reading to consume the book, and like the other forms of popular media it mirrors, even such a relatively brief exposure left something behind that isn't rubbing off anytime soon.

Last but not least, much as I bitch endlessly about corporate blockbusters, crappy popcorn and sharing the same space with rude people, I really, really miss movies. I seriously need an IMAX fix. And hat-tip to Marvel for a touch of class with memorializing Stan Lee "That world may change and evolve - But the one thing that will never change – we’re all part of one big family."

"Smurfy Dome"

My mind went wandering while we did a walkabout. I was foraging for mushrooms and birding while the wife foraged for berries along the firebreak put in atop Murphy Dome for last season's Shovel Creek fire. Alas, there were no morels to the story, only an enchanting Corydalis set against the burn.

Holy Hogarth, Batman - Microns, American Hero and Artificial Intellegence!

Slow internet speed way out in the subarctic hinterlands = lags in load time on huge photo albums, so while pages load the Facebook AI indicates its best guess on what the image will be a picture of. I think the algorithm inadvertently revealed my usual mental state i.e. yeah pretty much how I see the world.