& Chicago is aswarm with biting flies. Husband is on his way to visit fam. Storms on the horizon.
Welcome to the freshly dead dog days. Bleargh!
Time to count how many comix I've read this year. And fix some fucked-up anatomy on the Michael Portman portait. The Burroughs Folio is halfway there. Maybe I'll tackle the architecture & lighting on the Ian Sommerville portrait next.
Or maybe I'll have the courage to tackle A HERO OF THE FEVER...?
Musing on materials a lot. Part of why I like chalk so much is it embeds atmosphere in the paper: it works into the weave and powderizes as it works its way ever downward into the paper until its remotest particles hit a ledge and ultimate compression. Blue chalk worked into paper is as pure as the sky itself, and contains that sense of vapour (and / or humidity). Chalk is as elemental as charcoal in this respect.
Ink, of course, is Carbon, and is therefore both capable of embodying our bones and blood and representing them, applied scientifically. And then there's just the blank of any page, which is air and Being itself. I'll likely never move past physical media because the physical is the medium, to me. Comics are Real Things, and must be made (by me) with True Elements, not a bunch of post-hoc squiggly "correction" & filtrations with Apps.
Not to preach. Digital comix are just as truly Comix as anything and I'm not saying anything against them for anyone but MYSELF and perhaps having a long-lived physical record on one's existence as a Creator as opposed to the befuddled flaming moth known as the Consumer. I'm just an old bitch with opinions.
"Physical media is physical." I'm the Forrest Gump of comix is what I am. Lord.
Do you know how long it's taken me to fix this fucking hand in this picture? I only have two of them to look at, it's not as if I'm lacking for models, yet somehow I couldn't get my head around the configuration of the bones so I could DRAW the fucking thing... and it's taken half a year of irritibly erasing & re-sketching to get it right. When I bitch about my skull fracture screwing up my ability to think this is the sort of thing I mean.
I *am* the Forrest Gump of comix. With more mood swings and memory gaps.
