My good friend from art school, Blair, visited NYC this past week. He’s easily one of the most creative people I’ve ever met. Besides the innovative work he did in college, he’s done graphic design/web work for a good size list of companies over the years and he started his own successful retail internet site (Check it out: Pillowmob.com) with a second one on the way. The last time he was in New York we met at Angel’s Share, a speak-easy south of Union Square hidden in a Japanese restaurant. He showed me his new handshake that involved slapping
My doppelgänger recently sent me a copy of his novel through his Kindle account. He’s been writing it in his spare time while teaching in South Korea. He wants me to send him a copy of what I have finished of Sacco. But I’m reluctant to do so. Not because I don’t want his opinion. It’s because the drawings from the first chapter are shit compared to my latest completed pages. Plus I’d like to pretend my storytelling skills have gotten better. I mentioned this hesitation to him. He said it’s not uncommon- look at the Harry Potter books.
It’s been a whirlwind of a two weeks. My doppelgänger left and I threw up two more pages. Then my wife and I flew back home to see my doppelgänger with the rest of the family. So off the cuff, I decided to delay the inking stage and jump straight to drawing the subsequent two pages as I wouldn’t be able to begin them as expected. We got back to NYC on Tuesday night and cranked out the inks for one page. But now I need to prepare to draw two more on this Saturday. That would leave me five penciled
Besides having a double life- I also have a doppelgänger. He’s actually my twin and he lives in South Korea. No, he’s not evil but he chooses to live very close to it (if you consider North Korea evil, or NoKo as my brother calls it). This week he visited with his wife and daughter, Da Won. To celebrate, New York City decided to climb to one hundred degrees for four days in a row… and it’s killing me. My Midwest blood wasn’t made to stand this temp. I grew up where winter could start in October,
It’s a good thing that I draw. At times I feel I have an addictive personality and if drawing didn’t cut it and I moved on to something more hardcore, like heroin, well I would have OD’ed ages ago. I just went on a four week bender of crapping out pages (8 pages to be specific) and at the end of last week I fell to the ground burnt out with a pencil sticking out of my arm (figuratively, obviously). My attempt to take it easy over the weekend failed. Especially since my manager at my day job started his
In the year 2000 I was in my senior year of art school just south of downtown Milwaukee in a place they call the Third Ward. I was a fine-arts drawing major, I listened to Radiohead, and I wanted to create illustrations for magazines such as Rolling Stone once I graduated. I wasn’t breaking any molds here. I was naive like any other twenty-one year old about to step into the real world. But something one of my drawing teachers said stuck with me. He said that certain projects we would attempt in the future would take more than one