"COMICS": The Life of a Cartoonist (aka The Best Day of the Year)

Oh yay one of those year's-end seasonal reviews: a traditional chest-thumping recap - but that's pretty much what a navel-gazing blog does anyways, so perhaps much more fitting to feature instead student work, or more accurately, students working. So along those lines I'll share an insight that changed the way I live, or at the least, look at life. Which, sure, sounds like a cheesy infomercial, so here’s a caveat that it’ll probably revert back to normal mental cruising altitude ie skimming barely high enough to avoid a crash in a few more days, or hours update: too late. Something something mood swing? Reminds me of one of my favorite quips from an old dear friend Jeri (whom I still miss almost once a week): “when you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot, hang on, and swing!”

Anyways I was recently interviewed by a student for a Communication class paper they were writing, and I talked AT them for a solid hour in my office, like some sort of a sourdough professor. But in all seriousness it uncorked something that was on the verge of being forgotten, the resurrection of a recent idea - one of the usual thousand this week - to revisit the habit of taking snapshots of people's hands holding their respective artistic implements whist drawing. But as opposed to the way I had traditionally (see here, here, and here) focused on – the range in diversity of their unique, individual grips while sketching – this time I wanted to include equal attention to what they were drawing, namely that they’re all drawing comics.

Because the specific epiphany I had was like a literal cartoon lightbulb moment going off over my head that all three of my current classes at this exact moment of time in this semester were all simultaneously engaged in drawing comics. The awareness, or inciting insight, dawned on me after a sudden realization right in the middle of one class that everyone was all actively and intensely engaged with their respective three-page comic (required in all my Beginning Drawing courses). Think of calm in the eye of a creative storm, sitting there leaning back at my desk in the center of the studio where I had been doing a demo, and looking all around the room, seeing such focused energy, let alone at 8am. 

The semesterly class schedule specifies several “open studios,” which are relatively rare, an they mean my hands are mostly off the wheel, stop being one of those "helicopter teachers" (probably makes more sense these days to refer to us instead of as a "drone professor") who endlessly hovers around micro-managing ongoing assignments. These are the days that being an effective teacher can sometimes mean simply standing there holding a door open, and not getting the way: no lecture, no overt lesson, more an emphasis on creating a space. It's like a collective cocoon, a buffer zone against the cold + dark of winter hitting and the constant existential dread of current events. Put on some cool music, sip a cuppa coffee, and hang out and draw for a couple hours. How cool is that? You know, like a real artist, making art. Sure it's for a class, and for a specific assignment, but still, "it's your story, you tell it however you want."

 

But wait: then the next morning, the very same exact thing in another class, with the added bonus of connecting even more dots realizing that later on that evening it would happen yet again in this semester’s Cartoon & Comic Arts course. Now I’m used to the creative oasis which that particular unit in all my drawing classes offers me every semester, but the convergence of all three of current classes was like a whoa dude, big picture, full circle, you have officially arrived moment. How humbling and so awesome to see what a special moment in time it was, like everything in life was leading up to this.

Sure it surely had already happened last spring, with an identical schedule, but I was so consumed with the occupational stresses of a first-time full-time professor I hadn’t taken the time to reflect on such things. Acknowledgement of this Grand Confluence of Significant Events is a way to feel weirdly grateful for my wife, cats, friends, fellow faculty, staff and students, and know that nomatter how screwed up life has been, with so many bad choice and wrong turns along the way, if everything has led to this, than it’s all good, and I wouldn’t change a thing. Livin' the dream I tell ya.

All tolled that’s almost fifty students that, as of this writing, are all bent over their respective pages, inking away. Soon I'll scan and format over a hundred pages of their comics to get the class comic books formatted for the printer – along with the few 420’s/Advanced independent projects published as well - and also hang all the corresponding pages of original art in the hallway display cases. In short, awash in a wave of comics: Reading them, teaching about them, drawing them, doing demos, critiquing them, piles and piles of them on every flat surface of the office, in the car, and at home. Not to mention just a few weeks ago a wall of comics in the gallery as part of a student’s BFA thesis exhibit. So this is sort of a semesterly Cosmic Alignment of Harmonic Cartoon Convergence. 

Stay ‘tooned for another (like last year's) really big data-dump – we’re talking wharrgarble caliber - where I catch up on samples of student works in all of the semester’s courses.
Especially the... you guessed it, comics.

Cheers: Out With the New, In WIth the Old

Here's my most favorite one of the whole year. Likely it'll never progress into a print version as I both like the simple sketchbook aesthetic as it melds with the concept, but also a somewhat tacit acknowledgement that it's kinda so personal it wouldn't be particularly effective as a feature for the funny. 

Ideas Are Everywhere

 

"Monogamous Beavers"

Ignoring the obvious titillating material in such a topic, among a handful of other species this behavioral trait is also exemplified by the humble Castor Canadensis. And any resemblances to a relationship that may or may not exist is sheer coincidence and a matter of baseless conjecture.

"Smurfy Dome"

My mind went wandering while we did a walkabout. I was foraging for mushrooms and birding while the wife foraged for berries along the firebreak put in atop Murphy Dome for last season's Shovel Creek fire. Alas, there were no morels to the story, only an enchanting Corydalis set against the burn.

Smurphy Dome

While out scouting for berries on the tundra at one of the local spots, I burst out laughing, because I had a vision. Even when asked it's been a good idea my whole life to keep such things to yourself.

Sourdock/Black spruce/Rock harliquin

And I've also opened up another avenue of expression: the Alaskan Andy Goldsworthy, the next undiscovered folk artist of the North

 

"King Bolete"

Short post today - this one was one of those that got scanned directly from the sketchbook and turned into the published print form without any preliminary or process versions in-between. So here's a batch of pics taken earlier in the fall from around the cabin, largely as an excuse to test out the new iPhone lens.

Kinda like a mushroom - just TA-DAA... there it is.

One day nothing, and the next a fully realized fruiting body is formed.

When conditions are ripe, then ideas just spring up everywhere. Then they decay into formless heaps of disgusting goo. The point is to start foraging for those funnies.

Return to the Tors

"Being an Annotated Account of a Weekend Excursion to the Granite Tors"

at the Chena River State Recreation Area, October 5 & 6, 2018. 

Musings: Mumble + Drool

Dip-pen + doppio = creative juices

Over the many years I've have to tacitly admit to not really feeling all that joyful over making art - more and more it becomes a job to do, whether I feel inspired or not. That may come as a horrible news to some, even be anathema to the many freespirited artsy-fartsy folks whose purity means never getting down & dirty with the reality. But that's it, that's the distinction between every single person whose work I personally admire - there's almost always an accompanying work ethic involved. Scroll down to the "Top Posts" index on the right-hand side of the blog and peruse any of those posts to get a good idea of my perspective + opinion on the issue (also try searching the website in the "Topic" list under the "Art/Work" category.).

I recently came across the work of cartoonist Mark Stivers, researching the above piece after seeing it reposted - sans credit or even a signature - and ever since then have been enjoying his blog. I'm now including it in my show & tells to my art students, as it perfectly encapsulates the distinction I stress about discipline in drawing. It also serves as a great flashpoint in debate about the extent to which artwork becomes work - as in, when the hobby becomes a real job. I've found it incredibly controversial if not downright divisive at times amongst my peers as well, almost as much as Bob Ross.

Even though I have an official quoteworthy mantra regarding compost heaps and mental mulch-piles,  now can be added the bonus metaphorical mulling: Note tabletop littered with discarded pupa skins after the metamorphosis of ideas is complete.

“There is nothing more tiring than to sit by yourself trying to be funny.” – B. Kliban

There's no waiting All I have to really say is that you better be damn ready when & if inspiration does reach right on out and grab you. Better still to already be working anyways, so that you will already have a pen in hand, ready to get it out on the piece of paper.

Another train of thought that I routinely engage students with during lectures in the art class is drawing analogies between my role models or inspirational folks like Julia Child, at work in the kitchen surround by the tools of trade, with decades of experience in knowing the right tool for the right job. I equate the making of artwork like a car mechanic or musician or athlete: it's training. I'll now add to this list the profession of the dentist, especially after eyeballing the buffet of impliments at my elbow during a recent visit. Whenever I'm stressed out or scared I tend to joke nonstop as a way to deal with the situation. Like for example, dental surgery. Also, to be fair, one probably shouldn’t prescribe any drugs like, say, Valium, to cartoonists, unless you’re a dentist and can load their mouth up with hardware so as to shut them up. Still, as in all other areas of life, the best we can hope for is to try and find a way to mumble and drool our way through it all.

"Eraserhead Buffalo" + Iowa Sketches

Once upon a time there was a beautiful duckling who enjoyed a very sheltered & privileged life until it eventually grew older and gradually changed into an uglyass swan. There’s no moral to this fable, that’s just life. The image is from a quick (under 5-minutes) demo done in a student's sketchbook showing how to render forms using first using pencil, then bolding the contour lines with marker, and a touch of wash for value.

Another one of my demos during the same field-sketching expedition to the Museum of the North with my drawing class this summer. Somewhere during the pen + inking application the buffalo took a decidely Lynchian turn.

In retrospect it reminds me of one of the most impactful experiences from my youth with attending a midnight showing of David Lynch's 1977 black & white film "Eraserhead." The film department at Syracuse University used to put on alternative, classic and cult movies at a small cinema, and one of my highschool friends was involved with the group, and so invited me along to what became a habit for many years. This particular showing was eye-opening in that I'd never before seen the peculiar energy a passionate crowd can generate (these days what we would call geeky fanboys at a convention): the first movie ran a few minutes over and I was sandwiched up against the double doors by the crowd who were all chanting "E-head... E-head..." When the doors finally opened the ticket-taking ushers were bowled over by the mob that flooded into the theater - the one in front of me screaming "mongoloid pig-fuckers" before getting overrun. Many of my personal all-time favorite films were first seen at these midnight showings: Wizards, Quadrophenia, Excalibur, 2001, Mad Max, Night of the Living Dead, Breaking Away, Harold & Maude etc.

After returning from a vacation to Iowa, and during the normal reference sketching session in the campus greenhouse with my posse of students, I marveled at both the miracle of having successfully avoided drawing any corn (or barns, or cows) during the entire trip to the Lower 48, and then of all the different species available to draw from back in Alaska, what did I choose?

As part of our one-year anniversary + renewal of vows, the Significant Otter and I, over the course of eight amazing days, blitzed through twelve different hikes in these beautiful public lands:

Whitewater Canyon State Wildlife Area (pictured)
Pikes Peak State Park
Yellow River State Forest
Wyalusing State Park
Central Park
Pictured Rocks
Bellevue State Park
Mines of Spain
Backbone State Park
Volga River State Recreation Area
Swiss Valley Nature Preserve
Effigy Mounds National Monument

Of particular note was a couple of trips to the Mines of Spain, which, among many other sweet little trails, hosts the EB Lyons Interpretive Center with it's excellent selection of mounts.

Note: Can't draw goats worth a dang, but, like everything else, who cares when you're having fun

"Chill-Cat"

What started out with the basic concept as the doodle posted above - ballpoint pen + watercolor wash in the sketchbook - eventually evolved into a much more involved piece. Basic issues of simple respect aside, there was no way I would even contemplate properly tackling such a complex cultural design without any formal training in formline.

The resultant panel wound up as a collaboration with another artist friend, Abel Ryan (previously featured here before), who created the custom beaver blanket + hat designs for the final version.

One can't help but be continually impressed at the quality of work that is constantly being created within the UAF Fine Art department's Native Arts studio. Also I've been really inspired by a recent purchase of an amazing graphic novel "Red" by Haida-Manga artist Michael Nicoll Yahgulanaas (video here).

Once Abel emailed me the penciled-out imagery, I pasted it in to see how it would look: AWEsome.
Bonus trivia in the detail of a view from his hometown of Metlakatla that I snuck in from photo-reference. Mainly just so I could say Metla-CAT-la.

After receiving a surprise packet in the mail of the hard-copy finished designs, I then set about scanning them for final placement. The inherent awesomeness of the design in turn necessitated an expansion of the real-estate, as in making the blanket bigger so as to accommodate more of the art.

Started the whole thing way back in March, with another another bout of output in August; finished it all up in December; ran in the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner the following January Update: April. There's always a batch of similar concepts in varying stages of completion that clutter up my studio and brain. It's never so much a stressful pressure as it is just a nice buffer zone knowing there's always ideas floating around just waiting to get paid attention to. And no shortage of inspiration either - thanks Abel!

Recap: Eagle Residency

    Here's a follow-up to the previously mentioned (link to more information here) Bureau of Land Management Eastern Interior Artist-in-Residency program I completed back in August. It's an abbreviated post as there's a full 45-minute presentation of assorted photographs, sketches and drawings plus supplemental maps and a portfolio/sketchbook show + tell that accompanies the images. Since I'm obligated by the terms of the residency to have a public component this is a sampling for social media excerpted from that main presentation. I already got to give a test-run to the Fairbanks Watercolor Society as a special guest artist at one of their meetings, and will do so again presumably for the grand unveiling of the poster design I'm working on, which will probably happen at the Alaska Public Lands Information Center at a later date TBA.

    After a hectic and overloaded summer, what with teaching classes at both Visual Art Academy and Summer Sessions, hosting openings and putting on a major exhibition, plus back working a stint with the National Park Service ...oh and on top of it all, moving, this was a sorely needed respite from an insane schedule. So after panic packing and second-guessing supplies I jumped aboard a pickup with my official host for the 400-mile 10-hour road trip to my new digs for the last two weeks of August.
(more below the fold)

Medley: Dalton Highway

"There is just one hope of repulsing the tyrannical ambition of civilization to conquer every niche on the whole earth. That hope is the organization of spirited people who will fight for the freedom of the wilderness.
In a civilization which requires most lives to be passed amid inordinate dissonance, pressure and intrusion, the chance of retiring now and then to the quietude and privacy of sylvan haunts becomes for some people a psychic necessity.
The preservation of a few samples of undeveloped territory is one of the most clamant issues before us today. Just a few more years of hesitation and the only trace of that wilderness which has exerted such a fundamental influence in molding American character will lie in the musty pages of pioneer books ... To avoid this catastrophe demands immediate action." - Robert (Bob) Marshall, Co-founder, The Wilderness Society 

Posting a veritable smörgåsbord of random notes, snapshots and sketches from a recent road-trip up the haul road. Above are two spectacular panoramas: the one on top is of Atigun Gorge, which is an entry point to the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge accessed off the Dalton Highway, and the bottom view was from a feeder stream to nearby Galbraith Lake, also looking over towards the Refuge. If I would have turned around the view would instead be of the Gates of the Arctic National Park and Preserve, so it is quite the magnificent vista nomatter where one looks or what direction you face.

Our small group of National Park Service seasonal trainees + accompanying ranger for the Fairbanks Public Lands Information Center (down at the Morris Thompson Center) took a run up the Dalton Highway for a few days early this spring as part of training on the various recreational resources that abound in our neck of the woods (or tundra in this case). After making base camp in a Coldfoot cabin we ventured further up north, through the infamous Atigun Pass. Spring was just a couple weeks behind us in the Interior, and snow still blanketed the sides of the road and greenup was just getting underway.

Early risers: Saxifraga and Black bear emerging from their winter slumber

The Bureau of Land Management's Arctic Interagency Visitor Center is an absolute must-stop for anyone seeking more information about outdoor activity along the pipeline corridor. A couple of the sketches posted here (the Dall sheep + wolverine) were from mounts on display in their exhibit area.

These are some quick sketches drawn while sitting in the passenger seat of the SUV as it bounced along the gravel road and we wound our way through the Brooks Range and emerged at the edge of the Arctic plateau that stretched on and on until the eventual shore of the Arctic Ocean.

Looking back on the experience of viewing a horizon line that was well over half-full of the north face of one single mountain range was certainly illuminating and a powerful vision. Equally important but infinitely more personal was sitting down and watching a pair of Arctic loons through binoculars, as they swam along a river in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, far above the arctic circle no less.

Mount Sukapak is a popular pulloff attraction what with it's distinctive profile: it was cool to finally get to see it in person especially after working it into an earlier commissioned design and having to resort to photo-reference.

True to my reoccurring assignments in drawing classes, I have a penchant for dead hairy animals and will always try to catch a mount wherever and whenever the opportunity presents itself. No wait, that sounds really weird. Just like my frequent assignments in the classroom I'll always get few quick sketches of stuffed critters, and the visitor center in Coldfoot had some very nice displays set up. This wolverine made for a good study with pen & ink + wash.

At the crest of Atigun Pass, looking back at the North side of the Brooks, and ahead at the arctic plateau.

These recent snapshots dovetail quite nicely with the collection of other excursions (see more here) I'v collected on my treks about Alaska over the years, and setting foot back on the tundra roused a too-long dormant sense of connection to head for the hills again.

But lest anyone think this road trip was all fun and games, some serious interludes were devoted to channeling raw inspiration from the primeval wilderness...
Occasionally keen-eyed readers will often catch specific locations snuck into compositions: bonus detail in that mountain range in background is based on reference sketch shown earlier.