#22 - it would be nice to be invited (05-97) 



having thoroughly set up the premonitions of disaster orbiting around christopher, i finally decided to plunge right into 'it'. or almost right into it. i skidded all around the real story for some reason; i never did plunge into 'it', merely allowing glimpses of 'it' along the way to--to wherever i was going. so i never really examined christopher sparrow's disastrous personal life as i had planned to. instead, the comic slid around the edges, letting the reader to peek through the keyhole at what happened, but presenting little of the action. in this sense, sparrow's fall is a failure.

why? how did this happen? it was a failure of nerve, largely: i would be writing about the actions of, and my actions with, a real person who, although out of my life, and mostly out of the lives of everyone i knew, still lived in the same city. kansas city is smaller than, say, tokyo, so the odds of her finding out about the comic were greater than zero. i didn't really care what she thought about it, but i didn't want to be unfair or vicious at the same time; though god knows in my gut i felt that way. certainly i didn't want to appear vindictive. the whole thing was indeed half my fault. two must tango.

so we start out here with an early april evening's art opening at one of these evanescent galleries that pop up around the edge of leedyville and fade away after a semester or a year or two. as another case of, gee, see how cool i am? i was there with you! guess who i was!, (as if anone would care,) it's almost embarrassing. everything you see indeed was there; but i refrained from taking a camera and instead tried to memorize everything as best as i could. much of what you see is the work of well-known local sculptor jesse small*, notably the armored ambulance, which he drove around town in various incarnations for quite a while, and the clay tanks. the human figure on the wall was, if i recall correctly, made of spliced together x-rays. the nude had a tv screen in her. the crow i made up.

ah, the crow! (means death, remember?) and there's that girl. 'who is that girl?' christopher asks, and everyone may ask the same thing, and keep asking. i can honestly say, after having given it some thought for a number of years, that i don't know her, and i never knew her; fortunately i will never have to carry that burden, but it is still a problem for christopher. he badly wanted to see the opening, and his friend charity mentioned it--but rather rudely declined to take him. ('i guess you can go, but it would have been nice to be invited.' 'fine, i won't go, don't worry.') so he forces nips to take him, and there he sees charity with--with whom?--with Hope. but we don't learn her name in this particular episode. the world tries to thwart christopher from meeting anyone as usual, and his implied past experience should indicate that this is as close to Hope as we are going to get. but we'll see.

i like that second panel, even now. and i would say that to some degree, i was getting better at drawing, although the quality's still unacceptable, even for a minicomic. both hope and charity look awful, and i was actually making an effort, particulary with hope. but i'm not good at drawing humans, even now. the wash runs a little heavy on the first page, and a little light on the second, and i can tell you why. like as not, the wash was applied on two different evenings; i mixed the wash 'to-order' each time i used it, and probably the second bath was simply more dilute. these days when i need wash i make a large batch in an ink bottle, and then it will be consistent for a while.

hand-made things are inconsistent like that, and to me that is part of the process, and why it's important to do independent, mini-comics in the first place. not to make crap, but to force yourself to actually become good at making things; it's called craft, after all, and to become a good craftsman, or craftsperson, i suppose, requires patience, practice, and skill. even in comics. reaching a level of quality--the improvement of the human spirit is the reward. someday i hope to actually reach that point myself.

and again, for a possum who teaches at kcai, nips sure sneers at art a lot.

___________
*he's wearing the floppy hat there in the back at the bottom of the second page.





 

Posted: Sun - April 18, 2004 at 07:38 AM             |

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