The wheels have stopped.

I know things run in cycles. I know sometimes your drive and desire to work disappear. It's demoralizing and sucks away your energy and your ability to enjoy other pursuits. And after weeks of not being able to work, things turn around again and all of a sudden you're at the drawing table, cranking out beauty like no one's business. But what if that stage never kicks back in? What if your cycle runs more like four days on, three months off?

Please indulge me this for a moment. (I'm disabling comments for this entry because I know my friends would send me well-wishes and words of encouragement, and I just want to wallow today.)

Every morning I get up and sit at my computer, drinking coffee and looking guiltily at my drawing table, where my fucking NEVERENDING WORK IN PROGRESS sits, abandoned. I've sat at the table, looking over the pile of half-finished pages that never changes, wanting to pick up my brush and have at it. And yet that moment doesn't arrive. I've filled the water glass, sharpened the pencils, bought enticing fresh brushes. And there I sit. I flip through the thumbnails, and nothing. I see some pages with only one small background to fill in. I cannot. Four pages completed months ago sit in my "to grayscale" box, and I do not fire up the tablet and get going. It's as though all of my love and determination to complete this book have leaked out of a tiny hole in my heart over the last year, leaving me surprisingly empty and without even the self-discipline to sit and power through. And I hate myself for this. I question whether I can still call myself a cartoonist when I am no longer able to perform the task that defines me as such. If this were just a short or even not-so-short setback, I could see beyond it and look forward to the turning of the cycle again, to the future when the art flows and the progress is visible. But this seems now to be the normal state of things. It's kicking my ass. I can't see the end. I am overwhelmed.

This is the largest reason why I can't face going to any more comics shows. I see my friends post their projects online - daily comics, jam comics, beautiful watercolors, journal sketches. Every single one has told me they go through periods of blockage, or disinspiration. And yet there is still something coming out of them, some art-force that leaks out from one direction or another, creating despite the circumstances. I can't take pleasure or strength from it. I can't look at the big picture anymore. My sketchbooks sit empty, my tools wait in their perfect store-bought condition. I regret starting anything because the onus of never finishing is a heavy and painful reminder of my failure. I can almost feel the minutes ticking away as I waste my days doing nothing. This is time I cannot get back - I'm pulling over now, to the shoulder, and letting you all pass by and disappear around the bend. I need to hibernate to escape my utter and profound disappointment in myself.

***DISCLAIMER. I feel SO much better after wallowing for an afternoon and letting it all sink in, then drain away. I don't have the innate nature to give up; I just need to let myself THINK I am every now and then. Let's hope things go better overall, but wow, I really needed to get that out of me. Later!

Back in the saddle.

Finally things are smoothing out and getting more promising. I've resumed work on the fourth chapter, and today I pulled the Progress Whiteboard out and filled in all the X's that show how far I am. I had eleven X's to mark! Eight new pages started and a couple completed. I am so ready for this book to be done, and there is no way out but through, so putting my horns down and plowing ahead is the only way this thing will ever be complete. I'm trying to channel my inner Alec Longstreth and divide my days up a little more clearly into workable chunks, while not forgetting the ultimate goal of getting pleasure out of doing this tedious and often unrewarding work. The most pleasure comes at the end, but the end only comes after the painful and difficult journey, and I just have to keep slogging toward the horizon.

HOWEVER. I've been known to completely throw myself into utter fandom every now and then and totally wrap myself up in a show, book or other character-driven media. And this season of Project Runway has captured me in no uncertain terms. And guess what? Hometown girl Leanne Marshall is SO TOTALLY GONNA WIN!! I can't wait until the season finale when I'm out with all the luckless friends I can wrangle, cheering drunkenly and spilling into the street, setting piles of Buffalo Exchange cast-offs on fire and flipping cars. I've been hitting the Tanker on Hawthorne and 48th to watch the show live, which is a little weird to go to a bar by myself, but I'm not alone in my fanaticism. Last week I got there a little early, and to pass the time I sat and tried to draw each remaining contestant from memory, which is a lot harder than it seems.


God I hate Kenley, but there's a good chance she'll stick around for a while.

I saw photographs of the final collections of the last 6 designers at Bryant Park on the internets today, and I swear to God, I actually GASPED ALOUD when I looked at Leanne's pieces. They are breathtaking. Korto's were also gorgeous but they just didn't come close. The rest were fucking jokes. Leanne busted out this extremely restrained spring palette of cream, tan and the most beautiful aqua, fully showcasing her crazy folded-fabric origami skills. The girl is going places, and if you don't believe me just take a look for yourself.

ugh...

What do you do when you learn that someone you love and care about is having an extremely difficult time, and you want them to know you're thinking of them, but they don't wish to have any contact with you?

...I guess you just post it on your blog and hope the message reaches its destination.

Project Runway and PDX pride.

First of all, let me just say that I have the best friends in the world, and thank you to everyone who sent well wishes and support my way this summer. I wish things had gone a little more smoothly, but there's no going back in life, and all I can do is to try and jump back into the swing of things as soon as I can and continue on. But I have the most caring and awesome group of people on my side and I want you all to know how grateful I am to have you.

As far as comics updates go, I don't have much to say except that Myspace Dark Horse Presents had my "Previously Possessed" story up for the month of August, and that I'm eagerly looking forward to the release next month of the new Best American Comics volume containing my "Graveyard" story originally published in Papercutter. I do not have plans to attend this year's SPX or APE shows, so I guess I'll just catch you when I catch you. But I'll continue to plug away at Ivy and one of these days finish 'er off.

Now I want to get into something frivolous and fun: how much I love Project Runway and how much I'm rooting for Leanne Marshall, a Portland girl, to make it to Bryant Park this spring. I've never really been one to root for teams, but there's something about this show and the whole concept of a clothing-design elimination series that brings out the fan in me. Most of these types of shows are crap, but Project Runway differs from most in that it actually has extremely talented people with very definite aesthetics working under ridiculous conditions to make objects of beauty. And little Leanimal has been rocketing up the charts this season, making me blush with hometown pride.


I hear tales of a bar in Southeast that has a public showing of PR on Wednesdays, and I might have to be there for it this week. Some of the clothes and innovation are mind-blowing.