I’m nearly halfway toward my 100-hours-of-drawing goal. I keep hitting these plateaux of thinking Ugh, I have so much to learn. My stuff is shite, yet still loving having this power to capture my experience on the page. Something about that feels magical, important, and deeply satisfying.
I’ve been reading volumes and volumes of James Kochalka’s American Elf, which I dismissed when I first saw it, but now think is a work of towering genius. In these daily comics, Kochalka forever captures such tiny quotidian details, really elevating comics to a kind of poetic meditation, as well as a powerful reminder to just bloody have fun in life. That this, here, really is what I want to do when I grow up.