look at me go

i’m already working on page 43. it helps when i already have the dialogue ready to go, the storyline. then i can get to work faster.

plus i need to stay off of facebook because i’m starting trouble over there. or that’s what it feels like to introverted me when i speak out about something i feel strongly about. well, my brother hasn’t unfriended me yet….

i love the way the page looks when it is all just clean little lines like this. my next step…who can say it with me? ink & then more ink! yes. i do ink brush shading & tones next. then i finish by roughing up & darkening some of those clean little lines.

so that’s what i’m posting today. the clean page 43 before i ink the crap out of it.

thunderdome!

the world is a mess
we don’t have much to look forward to
with the november elections here in the u.s.
every day brings fresh
horror stories…

so i am standing at my desk, staring at the cornfields, listening to tina turner sing about thunderdome over and over and over and over. seriously. it’s like the only thing that keeps me from crying. and gives me hope. and makes me want to put a big frickin’ plow on the front of the big diesel truck in the garage. and makes me want to wear war paint. and makes me want to scream “we don’t need another hero!” at the top of my lungs.
i already have the wild children.
i do not have a chain-link dress. but it is on my to-do list.
i am ready to fight.
and i paint.
and i draw.
and maybe i need to play this song on a loop every day when i want to do art.

maybe tina turner is my muse.

moses jones page 42

when did i last post a page of moses joneslast spring? late winter? and now it is the first day of fall. holy moly.

i’m not sure how i feel about the page. as always, my style keeps evolving. i look back on the prototypes for mojo that i did in my art class…what was that? in the spring of 2013? wow, three years ago. i like the style there. i want to move back in that direction. i don’t like the close-ups and larger images i have done. and i forgot that in episode 2 i indicated something amiss about lucy’s pregnancy…but have not addressed it. and she is still pregnant here and looking fairly comfortable.

this dialogue was written while i was waiting for an “extinction of species” class to start in fall of 2014? i adapted it to include dusty’s return, but i have been waiting that long to get to it. graphic novelling takes some time, y’all. it is a slow process. throw in a dysfunctional relationship, four kids, several changes of address, and a full-blown homestead experience…and wow…it takes forever.

but here it is. page 42. a bit sloppy. susan looks possessed. mj looks like she has had work done. and i tried to use perspective & candle light–both of which i am terrible at. also, i had some blank space, so i put in title, author, & page number on a whim. how do i feel about that? i dunno. and as i write this, i have a sobbing toddler in my lap who is running a fever. but i did finish the page. even if i’m not sure how i feel about it.

also. as i keep drawing this. i wonder about all the shaved & half-shaved heads. do they have electricity? a generator? electric shears? or are they using razors? straight blades? i need to get to the bottom of this.

as a side note, i am reading how to sell your art online by cory huff. i just started it, but i have also checked out his website and started wondering if there is hope for me yet.

thanks for reading my comics!

photo blue pencil

so you can’t tell how much work i’ve gotten done because it is all done in photo blue pencil. ha! but i have drawn some. soon to be inked! hint: it is a new page of moses jones! yes.

that’s exciting, right?

a homesteading, unschooling mother of four makes a pretty unproductive graphic novelist, as it turns out, but the urge to create (in all forms!) is strong in me. i miss art when i am not doing it. it feels like part of me is missing when i am not doing art.

i need a partner who likes doing hard labor, housework, enjoys chaos and anarchy, and who can be utterly supportive to his (or her) artist/homesteading wife-ish person. so, if you know anyone. must like kids & sheep & dogs. and rural life.

like the photo blue pencil, you have to be able to see what might not be readily visible…to be with me. that is required.

sylvia plath, lynda barry, and a sheep named tyler durden

i am going to get some pages of moses jones done. i really really am. i have been busy…a bit suicidal…depressed…and busy.

i would be lying if i said i had been working on this zine that i started by drawing the cover. although i have worked a bit on an essay about john irving and also lynda barry. but that is all. and i did this journal page thinking about doing some ink brush paintings of livestock:

journal-page-2

livestock!
so now i have ten chickens and four sheep. i have a tendency to just wing it in many areas of my life. like i never seem to get adequate directions, do not have a smart phone or gps, yet constantly set out on adventures saying, “we’ll find it.” so i got chickens before i had a coop built. i got dogs before making sure my chickens would not be harassed by them. and i got sheep before i had a fenced pasture. long story short. i have lost one rooster to an over-zealous herd dog and have poisoned one sheep by not researching very well and just thinking, “it’ll be fine.” strange that someone as neurotic as me would be so okay with winging it. but i am. another example of my oxymoronity.

we named our sheep after favorite characters from favorite movies. i got to name the ram. i really wanted to name him tyler durden…but decided on harold (from harold & maude) because i was afraid a sheep named tyler durden might be prone to fighting as well as challenging the status quo. but harold the ram got really sick after eating something (acorns? toxic lambsquarters? too much chicken food?) and was looking awful. so i re-re-named him tyler durden and “drenched” (which means to force liquids on–not to douse with a hose!) him with apple cider vinegar and began my journey towards being a holistic shepherd.

but it is my depression more than anything that has crippled my creative process. i read something recently that said that depression is “living in the past.” you know, with anxiety being “living in the future.” i can see that…but my problem is my depression is a current event. i am very unhappy–not with my homestead…but with my live-in ex-husband. aka dusty knickers. he is happy to live at my folks place, contributing only when he sees the whites of my eyes, and otherwise playing video games and being a pain in the ass. i don’t know how to get him to move on…move out…move! i have come to peace with some things–like that it is not my job to let him know he is an asshole…but i do not know how to find peace with him always here. always being dusty.

but i have not taken the sylvia plath route. mostly because of what it would do to my kids. i decided that suicide is something best done when you are young and childless. i passed my open window of opportunity in 1998 (the last time i seriously contemplated suicide but ended up marrying some guy i just met instead. marriage & suicide are on about the same level for me, i guess. ha!) now i have four kids and have to commit to being here no matter how painful it is.

yay.

so i’m putting together this zine. you can be in it if you want. right now it is in a very loose stage of development. but, you know, art–poetry–essays.
and i’m still working on all my other projects: moses jones, lizard brain, whimsy, one up on sylvia plath, space aliens & serial killers…. kids, homestead, survival, etc. you know the drill. and reading, always reading. i totally recommend david wong. but most recently i finally read lynda barry’s notes of an accidental professor. as you may or may not know, i attended uw where she teaches, but somehow i never made it into her class despite her being an early influence for my comics. self-sabotage? fear of my heroes? just plain goofy? we had a nodding acquaintance, mostly because i took my kids to her monthly drawing jams…but i never became soul sisters with her even though my inner geek dreamed of this.
it’s a regret i have.
so i’m sending her a postcard.
you know, a moses jones postcard.
(who knows, maybe she will be my best friend forever after all.) a postcard, and then i will close that chapter and open a new one.

page 3 of lizard brain

so i started this page weeks ago.
then one of my dogs tore up the page. i adopted two sisters of a cattle dog persuasion. they are only half grown and are so naughty. between their shopping on my desk and my kids’s shopping on my desk, it’s a wonder i get any pages out at all.

also,
depression.
even though i am doing a comic about the destructive voices in my head, it is still difficult to do said artwork when i am depressed. overwhelmed. generally ready to crawl in a hole and never come out.

i’m not sure what happens next. maybe i will get some moses jones done. i have been hankering to work on that comic for awhile.
also! i started playing with a story i started when my niece was like 4. that niece has now graduated from college. so maybe i should finish my story, at least.
i wrote it as a screenplay.
i am adapting it to be prose…with pictures. not a graphic novel. just, you know, an illustrated story.
strangely, the dynamics of the two main characters (written, like i said, 20 years ago?) are reflective of the dynamics between my ex & i. you know, dusty. the male lead even looks like him. i wrote it before i started doing more autobiographical fiction. he came out of my imagination. fuck, maybe i predicted him…or worse, maybe i wrote him into existence. yikes.

speaking of the topic of autobiographical fiction. i just finished reading john irving’s latest novel, the avenue of miracles. i love love love john irving. this novel, not so much. parts of it were amazing. other parts were half-hearted. but! he often discusses memoir fiction vs. fiction from the imagination. while reading it, i started writing an essay. i think i will eventually finish that essay that is not quite memoir…not quite pure imagination…but all me and how i feel while reading a john irving novel.

i think i had another point to make or story to share, but i had to stop typing to have a fight with my eight year old who seems to believe i am not allowed to live a life other than as his devoted and single-minded mother.

poop.

just me and my lizard brain…page two

i think i am exorcising some demons with this comic.
which is good.
i’m not sure how long this comic will end up being…
if it will be just one story,
or a continuing story.
but right now it is strong in my head
so i figure i should go with it.

i like the way the art turned out. i like using a different font. i developed the font i letter with in moses jones & other works in like..what..1998? 1999? so it is fun to use a different way of lettering with this comic. then, in a tribute to ralph steadman, i mess it up a bit. i like messy.
messy is fun.

also! i may have mentioned that i am putting my quixotic poetry together into a collection. well, i decided to put ALL of the poetry i can find that i have written over the years into that collection and to maybe try to find a publisher? maybe self publish? maybe enter it into a contest? but, fuck it, i am doing something. all that raw emotion & terrible verse just begs to be ridiculed by the public (haha!)

and i still want to be doing more ink brush painting. i think i need more paper. maybe that’s what my block is with that.
so i need to find an art store.
does anyone know any independent art stores in central illinois?