"Winter Deck Seat"

An obstinate ol’ timer insisting on his traditional table at the now-shuttered Sourdough Sam's restaurant, long a local fixture in the community. Along with the previous post, it's also another in a series of overly-obsessive "super-snow" scenarios. Instead of knocking out a panel every few hours or so as per my average, this one pretty much took all day of on-again/off-again attention. First I doodled out the idea in my sketchbook at a café early in the morning. It was only after hitting it up with a wash and then adding lots and lotsa little dots with a white ink Gelly Roll pen that a lightbulb moment occurred. It became a visual link connecting a concept with another incubating idea. As of late I’d been tangentially inspired by random imagery from artists who depicted snowy scenes with using maybe 10-20 times the usual number of flakes that I typically employ in my winter work. I mean, we’re talking like a curtain, a veritable blanket. For weeks I’ve been mulling it over, chewing over the creative cud while wondering “I wanna find out some way to do that.”

So then after a few hours of office work, I returned to the studio, and penciled the design out on Bristol board. Another couple hours of errands, and I was able to return to the drawing board to ink everything in, then let it dry, then erase the underlying sketch, scan it, and email myself the TIF. Back at home, approximately twelve hours after the initial idea in the sketchbook at the cafe, I opened up the file and commenced to clean it up and make some minor tweaks for editing. After the prepwork, in itself several hours of cleaning up and refining, then began the preliminary digital coloring. The trick was to keep saving it at different stages: the line art; the flats; and finally one with all phases of the experimental mega-dots done in separate layers. They needed to convey a random uniformity, a paradoxical pattern that would both function as a texture with its own presence in + over the piece, but still see enough of all the other elements throughout the composition ie leave visual breathing room. You can see some playing around with several differing levels of relative opacity of the flakes on the test wash in the sketchbook. Because this, in conjunction with the value shift with foreground flakes being comparatively brighter/higher contrast, size is another depth cue that deliberately distorts density of the dots, thereby enhancing atmospheric diffusion. Okay now I’m flaking out.

No but wait, not done yet: turned out 24-hours later, on the morning of Xmas eve, I realized that the final layer of flakes ought to be made individually, each shaped by hand so as to avoid the “made by computer look.” Even if they were in fact made with Photoshop, as opposed to the Gelly pen and/or white-out applied with a brush (my usual manual method). So after a coupla hours layering a flurry, it’s finished. Still didn’t quite push the envelope as far as my inspirations, but it’s not like I won’t have another chance to “see what happens.” Also what’s funny in retrospect, now that I went through this I looked back at previous similarly snowy scenarios, and they now all suffer in comparison. As in feel empty, unfinished and primitive compared to the new winter wonderland.

"Arctic Reptiles"

I suppose this panel works anywhere that it gets cold, but the farther north one goes, the pause for basking becomes more and more of a luxury. A brief bath of bliss, a recharging of our mental, physical and spiritual battery amidst another seasonal snap.

Indeed the difference is as obvious as the literal contrast between the two versions of the panel: before and after cutting in some shadows to push the range of values + some directional highlights. I want the viewer's eyes to also echo the "ahhh..." when they visually feel the warm glow.

Normally I am consciously choosing to de-saturate the digital feel and flavor of my colored panels, as has been mentioned many a time here before. But in this case I used the Photoshoppy effect to a singular advantage, as evidenced by a failed attempt to emulate the effect in watercolor, which didn't work and needed an extra boost with my last-minute makeover with markers. 

And here is proof positive of a frequent metaphor of mine: that of a sketchbook being more than a repository of ideas - it's a veritable compost heap of concepts, the mental mulch-pile where kernels of cartoons are incubated, fermented until ready to fertilize more funny ideas. Eventually it'll grow into another, even better variation of the initial seed that was planted back on page whatever. "Aaahhh..."         

Halloween: "Teddy Bear-Spray"

I strongly suspected that this one was flogging the proverbial dead moose, as it took so long not just to actually draw (linear perspective + that stupid crib), but rewriting the damn caption over and over - which is partially evident by the changes seen across this convoluted process post - and over so as to get the idea across.  

That's usually a red flag that you're reaching, and no amount of editing will salvage what is probably a lost cause cartoon. But there are special ones that I won't let go, especially if the core concept is, uh, killer.

Composition plays a crucial component here, as the eye has to wander around connecting all the dots. There's a slight bit of misdirection employed that tries to briefly override the instinctual top-to-botton/left-to-right initial scan of the image, and hopefully hone in instead on the gaze cues of the couple first, which'll lead right down to the crying kid, and then lastly fill in the final bit of visual information to complete the puzzle with noticing the menacing monster in the nursery's background. This feint is akin to the timing + pacing of a comedian's delivery doing standup. I used this as an example in a recent class as to how and why the deliberate arrangement of visual elements juxtaposed with text can be so important. My entire MFA thesis was in fact predicated on how the sequential cognitive interpretation of a single-panel gag cartoon qualifies it as "sequential," even if it lacks the requisite panels + gutters (for example in a strip, or page).

Speaking of the MFA in Sequential Art from SCAD, this panel hearkens back to a personal favorite 5-page piece done called "Deady Bear."

"Cross Fox"

And here we have what I personally feel may just be my magnum opus. Of this year at least. I mean, I'm still very proud of this piece even after the fact that not a damned person got it. Even tried a test-run by bouncing it off some folks who I though might stand a better-than-usual chance of getting it. Nope. Nothing. Well. that's not entirely true as there's just barely enough there for the uninitiated to grab onto, and maybe muster a small smile. But I worked really hard on it, and still think it stands as testament to my maturing abilities. Okay, full of (out)dated references and appeals to obscurity.

Even worse was making my readership take the extra step and turn the newspaper upside-down so as to read the caption for the print-version (kinda tricky to do with a computer). I was shooting for the legacy puzzle vibe: revealing the answers, but not making it any easier.

I've posted here the whole process: the original doodle, the sketchbook rough, the pencil version, and the final done in pen & ink w/digital coloring Here's a link to the theme song in question, and also more info on the vehicle, and the critter, which started the whole thing off my routinely including our cabin in it's early morning rounds. 

"Melatonin"

Truth be told I think this one lost a lot of it's punch with the domestication of the verbage. I mean, it's not as if an owl looking for sleep aides is terribly edgy material to begin with, and the gag doesn't hinge on a swear word, but bad language is spoken at our cabin with the same frequency as breathing.

Hence the edited version being the one that went to print, and why you will note the switch in all other variations, even up to the pencil one posted up above here.

This is one particular panel that got tweaked a bit whilst honing in on a winning composition. Ultimately opted for an approximate vertical thirds. Constructing the corner took some linear perspective, and I was evidently so focused on the creation of a believable illusion of three-dimensional space, that I spaced out putting anything in the medicine cabinet. Cue nostalgia with "The cupboard was bare" homage.

And once again for a teaser shot enticing followers on social media to run right out and grab a copy of the Sunday edition (or better yet, subscribe and thanks for your support): as mentioned before I really dig seeing the dot pattern on a an outstanding print job by the folks at the News-Miner. They make me look good.

"Plant Parenthood"

See what I did there? Subliminal programming, or at least channeling all the ugly shit being imposed on America by the Republicans at local, state and federal level who oppose fundamental bodily autonomy issues. Just kidding, it's a gardening gag on the well-worn trope of the Interior's intense growing season. Politics aside, here's two versions to compare + contrast: a good example of just how much more depth the panel developed with just a rudimentary cutting in of cast shadow shapes for enhanced contrast.

Even in a relatively "complicated" (for me) scenario, I was pleased to maintain most of the simpler, flatter spot color vibe that I've been trying to remember to ease off the digital overworking. In other words - SIMPLIFY.

Just as an aside, whilst teaching the Pen & Ink studio art course (honestly I fully intent to post a recap of an amazing class sooner than later), after scanning the contour line for coloring I used the original as a sample test on rendering texture using all of the major food groups: hatching, cross-hatching, scumbling, stippling and spot blacks.

"Dipnetting on the Styx"

Usually I reserve the "process" label for a post hat's a bit more detailed, but I thought that the examples of evolution from initial doodle to thumbnailed rough (ie ballpoint pen in sketchbook) to printed version is a great illustration in the gradual refinement of a panel. This as opposed to what many others in the field do - have the finished cartoon magically appear out the other end of the pen, springing full-formed in an Athenian style of inspiration. Myself however, muddle along with multiple manifestations, revisions, tentative penciling followed by even more tweaking and editing. Still, it's one of the best of the year, and a fitting closure in contrast to the holiday cheer of last week.

Continuing the fraudulent posturing in this charade, I depict myself in the scenario, when in all actuality I have never fished while residing in Alaska. I was an avid fisherman growing up in New York, but mostly lowly carp and bullheads, along with panfishing (and some brief adventures with muskies in Canada at an Auntie's campground). But I have yet to indulge in any of the requisite residential subsistence activities like hunting (aside from forays into foraging) or fishing. I also don't particularly care for the taste of salmon, which is a disqualifying sacrilege. No wonder I suffer from imposter syndrome.

And finally, to make things even worse with this particular panel, once again I fell victim to misremembering and mixing up the mythological reference. Technically Charon is more typically associated with the river Acheron, and I additionally mashed him up with common portrayals of the Grim Reaper, not to mention a lake of fire more associated with a Judeo-Christian vision of Hell. Speaking of which, laboring with excessive amounts of scumbling is somewhat of a sentence, at least in Limbo.

On a final note, as I was inking in this panel at the office, with a soundtrack sampler playing in the background, an un-equalized/auto-volume controlled Darth Vader’s Imperial March theme (specifically from my favorite Rogue One) swelled up from the speakers REALLY REALLY LOUD, and in a brief, rare moment of self-awareness it briefly occurred to me to act my age, or at least maybe turn it down, but then when I looked at what I was drawing, I had a good laugh at myself. 

"Two Shticks"

Shtick (from the Yiddish) mashed up with the 1908 Jack London classic, then baked by your truly. Figured I'll start the new year off with probably the worst/best gag from 2024... gotta set the bar low so as to look like at least some progress is being made.

Not scanning anything anymore, at least the Nuggets panels – full pagers and poster art is done in the department on a tabloid scanner. You know, the "serious" stuff. Ever since my desktop one broke a couple years back, I’ve resorted to just using my phone camera, which necessitates decent lighting, and changing the resolution/image size to one better suited for editing and printing (for example from 72dpi to 300dpi + 50" to 8" usually preserves the size ratio). Here's a sample of what a line version looks like directly after snapping a picture of it with my iPhone, air dropping it to the iMac desktop (i-yay-yay), opening in Photoshop, and converting it with the threshold setting. Notice the abundance of artifacts left over from the pencil - a real pain to methodically erase in post, and a reminder to work cleaner!

"Ant-lers"

Long-time friends & fans are well aware of my weakness for the worst gags in the world, and I'll admit to only a relative handful of my own panels are so good/bad that they'll make me giggle to myself. Which is rather weird when sketching out alone in public, hence the reason I camp out at cafes in the early morning so as to not disturb fellow patrons. 

While the initial doodle - the ant with antlers - was amusing enough, flipping the concept on the second take was even better, and was refined a bit more in ballpoint with the revised, second sketch. Also uploaded here a process piece with the penciled panel + pre-inked verbage (more often than not the usual order, mostly so as to have a better, more clear idea of where to start and stop the inked-in lines), and then lastly a fully inked example before erasing the pencil lines that are still visible.

"Shrew Brain"

One of the best things about doing a single-panel is all the trivia that gets dredged up which trolling the depths of your subconscious. Like this one, for example, which recent research provided a variety of inspirational points of reference for inspiration.

Others included autobiographical experience an keenly honed observational skills that are crucial to the craft. You know, draw what you know.

Also a bonus session sitting right next to a table that had real, actual human brains on display as recruitment for the psychology department at a college major conference. Kind of a no-brainer... on could say it was rather shrewd.

"Half Calf" (aka Alaska Bearista)

This one was doodled out on site, but I neglected to take a reference photo, which, while on the one hand can severely limit your options when it comes to accurately depicting - or re-creating - a specific scenario, but on the other, can be creatively freeing, as you'll just have to make even more stuff up. And since it's a cartoon, that's obviously not anything to really worry about... excepting when it comes to maintaining that illusion of a three-dimensional xspace on a flat piece of paper.

And so when it came to rendering the haunch correctly, as in seating it properly upon the surface plane of the countertop and aligning the legs in a believable way, there was no end of frustration over getting them just right. This can be easily ascertained from just from the sheer number of attempts it took to dial in the damn drawing as evidenced by the dozen or so ghost images left behind by penciling & erasing of initial sketches over and over again.

I also took artistic liberties with enhancing pictorial depth by adding in the bagel case in the foreground. This was an example of my "visual sampling + remixing" approach of sketching in various items to arrange for a better (ie more effective depth) composition. 

Whew. Aside from all that, it's the best one of the year, in my humble opinion. It was actually drawn up at the end of 2023, and ran in print January of 2024. Which in turn means it'll lead off my next submission packet to the National Cartoonists Society's "Reuben" awards (note: Alaska's own Chad Carpenter won one in 2008). I've only done it twice now, the first back in 2011, and the entry process was cumbersome and confusing, but this past year was smooth and easy. But once again I didn't include what were the strongest (ie funniest + best drawn) panels because they were so hyper-regional, and wouldn't be understood by any non-resident. But this next year, I'm actually gonna lean into it, and stop the self-censoring, just be myself, I yam what I yam, and lead off the 2025 submission packet with this one.

PS/Update: I've mentioned it before elsewhere but I really mean it when I say yeah it's super cool to be in a gallery show (like this particular piece was for the 2024 UAF art department faculty exhibition) or a museum - but nothing beats seeing a funny out in the wild.

Cheers Mocha Dan's!

"Podcasting"

Though nowhere near as intricate and belabored an arrangement as "Orca-stra" from a few years back, this particular panel draws upon a similar scenario (bonus points for anyone remembering this classic as well). But again, behold the power of executive editorial decisioning during the process, mainly on account of (like the aforementioned "Orca-stra") I really, really didn't wanna draw a flotilla of damn dolphins, so instead opted for a much more complicated composition involving an entire herd of different marine mammals instead.

And just like a recent post about "Streaming," no, I haven't ever availed myself of any podcasts either. Like many a term bandied about contemporary discourse, hearing it eventually annoys me enough to pay enough attention to it to make fun of it.