I'm sitting on the corner of Alabama and Yew, waiting for the bus. It's 10:26 am on this Saturday morning, I have coffee and Sather's fig bars and I'm headed toward the B.S. of Comics which meets at noon at the Black Drop. There's a change of shirt waiting for me at my art studio, and I'm writing this in notepad for later update to my journal.

And now I'm on the bus. By the time I finish writing this, I'll probably have upgraded to a mocha or something.

My last journal entry was too much. I should have saved it, let it sit over night, and rewrote it. My intent was to take certain things I encountered during the day and use them to lead into thoughts about where I draw my sense of inspiration and purpose for making comics. Instead, it turned into a whinefest in an attempt to justify how I approach my day. Which, of course, turned out to be much more useful than my original attempt.



Also, if you read it, it may give you something to think about. But be sure to read the comments. That's where the good stuff is. I think the strongest lesson demonstrated by that exchange is that there are wildly different environments in which one can create artwork.

Every cartoonist has a different day job (for a few of which it's cartooning itself!). Every cartoonist a different form of publication, a different message, and a different set of readership. Most cartoonists create works of passion. They have something to say, and they're saying it regardless of whether or not there's an audience to read it. I think this is the difference between art and graphic design. Art is meaningful on a personal level, done for the gratification of the artist. Graphic Design is done for someone else, because it is marketable. These days that's the only distinction, and it isn't necissarily much of a distinction or an important one to make.

Mostly, I'd say, it's important for perspective. The key to being at piece with your comic, whatever it is, is to understand where it stands in the world.

It's OK to try for an income from it. It's OK to simply create it for yourself. There's room for everybody. It's not OK to beat up on yourself for not meeting some unreasonable goal.

Well, what do you know? We're just pulling into the bus depot.

...

Now it's 12:38 and I'm at the drop waiting for the line to get small enough for me to order a drink. It's raining, and such a relief.

Anyway, these are my thoughts for the day. They're very similar to previous thoughts. If I could distill everything I want to say, that I've said over the years on forums and email listserves, and to friends and the B.S. of Comics, it would sound something like this:

I believe that producing an comic, whether ameteur or professional, whether syndicated or on the web, is an extremely rewarding enterprize. It can be done by anybody, and whether it is done for the readers or solely for the gratification of its creator, no one should be discouraged from creating and publish their comic, ever, for whatever reason.

Of course, conversely, you probably shouldn't attempt a comic unless you want to do it. It's silly, but I've met people who think they should create a comic because their friends are doing it. It's not a horrible thing if this happens, but it is silly.

Anyway, it's raining. Raining really solidly. We haven't had a rain like this in a long time. And I believe that it's raining like this because last Saturday Bellingham had it's anual rain ritual, the Downtown Sidewalk Chalk Festival.

In this festival, the public is invited to buy some chalk, register a square on the sidewalk downtown, and draw something. There is a contest, of course, but the real goal is to create a piece of artwork, you're own vain creation, that people are forced to see while they shop downtown. It's a great party with a diameter of four or five blocks. Families and local businesses alike set up studio next to each other and draw, draw, draw.

For one day each year, these people experience the pure joy it is to show of a piece of artwork in a public forum. The feeling they get cannot be far off from the feeling I get when I update Harmless Free Radicals.

It's a feeling I'm sure that my contempories of the B.S. of Comics, of the Megatokyo Art & Drawing Forum, of the now defunct Willowvayle artist community, of the Pants Press, any webcartoonist feels. It's a feeling I refuse to deny anybody.

And the neat thing is, there are a variety of ways to get it. You don't have to have a scanner and a website. You don't need Photoshop, nor do you need chalk and a space on the sidewalk. If you're creative and open minded, you can find some way of participating.

So, just as it's my goal to produce Harmless Free Radicals and gain some sort of approval for it, and to share that joy with my friends, it is also my goal to brainstorm ideas for new and different ways of publishing, whether its a comic, a painting, or a story.

On the other hand, I also have a passion for comics specifically. And it would be awefully nice to contribute to the health of the artform I've embraced.

These are the things I'm thinking about when I'm in the middle of creating my next beer label. Fortunately, the act of drawing itself, whether I show it off or not, is meditative enough to settle my mind occasionally, or I'd never get any work done at all.

Hm! Maybe my next entry will be shorter.