I’m doing AM drawing warmups, after resisting them for too long, finally conceding to the wisdom of sweeping the cobwebs before work. This is the singer Mitski, as seen in Teen Vogue. First, a light, volume, and detail study. Then, more stylized, thinking about how I’d design her hair, face, and dress for animation/comics. Last, Teen Titans Go! show style.
(I bought a Teen Vogue sub to support their reporting on #notmypresident, and the December volume also has a page on SAILOR MOON!)
Thanks to Adam Warren for the motivspiration!
Today I’m the lucky recipient of a letter from the proud MAGA*-waving Kansas elector Kelly Arnold who was proud to proud vote economic prosperity blah blah in response to me (and many others) asking for him to vote for an actual leader, rather than an orange bigot. Here’s my response:
I hope it’s become abundantly clear to you that Trump will lead no one but his cronies to prosperity, that he’s patently dishonest and disrespectful of the office and our current president, and despises anyone who is not white and male.
Most of all, he is hurting his employers, the American people. I hope you consider that I, and many hard-working people like me will definitely suffer and may die without healthcare. That my friends will be incarcerated for being Muslim, black, poor, or Jewish. That my gay friends will again become people with zero rights.
If, at some point, you see that you’ve not voted for a competent and intelligent conservative, but rather than a broken and venal autocrat who believes this world is his to pillage, please reach out again.
Perhaps I’ll believe you really see Trump for who he is, perhaps that you see your fellow Americans as your respected brothers and sisters. Perhaps I’ll believe that you’re genuinely sorry.
As for right now, I’d be happy to see you and all Trump voters in your own awful country, away from people who voted for clean water, economic justice, and other human rights. Where you can try to make do without kindness, wisdom, and community, as many under Trump will. And all while having your pockets picked to threads by, to quote Don Henley, “This tired old man [you] elected king.”
I leave you with the out-of-context but appropriate words from Nick Cave regarding zeal, “I truly do and say thank you and again I say thank you but no…no thank you.”
*Which certainly means “My Awful Goblins Ate”
Sometimes I dream entire episodes of shows or movies. The narratives are actually cohesive, even if the events are not consistent with the “rules” of the show.
I dreamed an episode of Sherlock. While it broke the mostly real-world feel of Sherlock, it still worked.
Then, in my dream, Stephen Moffat announced that Sherlock was really Dr. Who, and always had been. I was disappointed, but while I was still dreaming, thing about this that made me the saltiest wasn’t that Sherlock wasn’t Sherlock, it was that all the music changed from Michael Price’s fantastic, moody compositions* to synthy Dr. Who TARDIS materializing noises.
Don’t you touch my jangly adventure theme or Watson moody cab ride piano notes.
*Price co-produced the music on The Iron Giant, and composed the scores for Hott Fuzz and Nanny McPhee. So much nerd happiness, here.
Possible Totally gonna be Steven Universe spoilers after the cut!
[image: cartoony pink lion leaping]
Someone spreads that dust around.
Inspired by the art of Mariah McCourt. Her Patreon.
I’ve been a comics pro for thirty years now, and watched many companies come and go. A lot of the companies that went had one or both of these things in common: they either didn’t pay their bills, or they insisted that the road to respect was papered with a contract that required a creator give up most or all rights.
I’m writing about this today because of this story: “Billionaire” Trump Can’t Pay His Transition Team’s Salaries.”
Good ol’ Orange Dictator has a habit of not paying for things. He’s ripped off countless small businesses, refused to pay the caterer for one of his weddings, and so on. And he’s about to be president of the United States. (#notmypresident)
If one of the most visible people on the planet is crappy about paying his bills and treating small business owners like vending machines he can shake for a free soda, why would a comics company no one outside of comics has heard of worry about paying a creator or giving them a fair deal? OD’s transition team was well aware of his habit of not paying, they just thought he didn’t dare to not pay them.
Don’t kid yourself that you have the magic or the pull to get paid or get a good deal from a unscrupulous publisher. Don’t assume that yours will be the property a crum-bum executive won’t exploit.
While bad apples in comics aren’t easily identified by having orange skin and flapping yellow hairpiece, your gut should be a reasonable guide. If it sounds to good to be true, it is. If a company keeps going out of business and coming back, there’s trouble. If you find yourself casting about for a “second-best” idea to pitch to a company, you don’t trust them. Run away. Orange skin and bad feelings are how nature says Do Not Touch.
I encountered some serious concrete at the Reseda, CA @starbucks drive thru, because I was running to get the plate # of an SUV whose driver had stolen from the tip jar. They just casually boosted it as they pulled away.
I wrestled out of my seat belt, and took three steps before I fell, hit my shoulder on a pole, landed on both knees, and jammed my left leg. (I think now it may be that my left hamstring gave out.) I started crying from pain and frustration, sent David after the SUV to get the plate numbers when he got out of the car to help me. (He couldn’t catch it.)
The #Starbucks employees (and the people behind us) did…not a damn thing. The barista (Krystina) and three shift supervisors (Damian, Marian, and Kevin O) knew (husband and I went inside to talk to them) I was down on the curb and crying and elected to do nothing to help because of “sketchy” (Damian’s word) people in the neighborhood. We were dressed for a party, we didn’t look remotely dangerous, poor, ill, or whatever #sketchy means to shift supers.
David took me to the ER. Every bump of the ride made me cry harder. Ever have a Charley horse, a muscle spasm? Everything from butt and groin to below my knee feels like it’s twisted together in an over-tight rope.