I love comic books. I don't follow many of the (thousands of) new titles available now, but that's because I just don't bother to shop for comics anymore. I've been rereading my old "The Books of Magic" collection and I fucking love it. Most of the shit that went down in that comic flew right over my head, but something must've made a connection with me because I kept buying the damn things. Now, years later (and wiser), the subtlety isn't wasted on a fool. John Ney Reiber is a great writer and I knew even back then that Peter Gross was brilliant. I have a ton of worthless, shitty comics, but I still hold onto them. Why? Probably because somewhere in my mind I've convinced myself that I'll reread them and rediscover their worth, but I know that's bloody unlikely. "The Books of Magic" will probably stand as the only exception to the rule. Will that mean I'll toss all those worthless comics? Hell no.
I went to college to study art so that I could be a comic book artist. Higher education crushed my ambition and the faith I had for myself. Still, over the years, I kind of tinkered with the dream here or there. Now I can paint shit I never would've believed possible. Nobody really raves about my work, but that's okay. I like it fine. Yeah, I know it's flawed, but so is every shit piece hanging in every museum or gallery in the fucking world. The hardest thing was admitting to myself that I had no patience to do comic book art. The potential workload was enormous. I knew my limitations (which is why I dropped out of film school, too). Life is about wasted opportunities, wasted energy, wasted time, so why beat yourself up over it? I'm glad I went to school to study art. Why? Because I am a better artist for it. Am I living off of my art? No. Has there been any financial gain because I have two degrees? Again, no. But, I wouldn't trade the experience or the minimal gains for anything. That's life, and I dig that this cat got to live those years.
Okay. I'm off to read some more comics. Pray for me!
I went to college to study art so that I could be a comic book artist. Higher education crushed my ambition and the faith I had for myself. Still, over the years, I kind of tinkered with the dream here or there. Now I can paint shit I never would've believed possible. Nobody really raves about my work, but that's okay. I like it fine. Yeah, I know it's flawed, but so is every shit piece hanging in every museum or gallery in the fucking world. The hardest thing was admitting to myself that I had no patience to do comic book art. The potential workload was enormous. I knew my limitations (which is why I dropped out of film school, too). Life is about wasted opportunities, wasted energy, wasted time, so why beat yourself up over it? I'm glad I went to school to study art. Why? Because I am a better artist for it. Am I living off of my art? No. Has there been any financial gain because I have two degrees? Again, no. But, I wouldn't trade the experience or the minimal gains for anything. That's life, and I dig that this cat got to live those years.
Okay. I'm off to read some more comics. Pray for me!
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
1) Must worship me like a goddess, or at least harbour some kind of non-repulsive feelings towards me
2) Must have time to see me
3) Must not be dating someone else
Bang.
I'm going hunting now.
A good way to get blood out of cotton is to soak it in salty water before puting it in the wash as normal.
I've never come across a band aid that didn't rip out the hairs. I'm not a big fan of plasters (band aid) anyway. they're for girls. Unless I'm doing something minging and need to keep the dirt out of the wound, I don't use them.
And no, blood isn't a good way to dye hair, it washes out too easily plus it's sticky and goes a rubbish orangy colour. It also smells pretty bad. Use some hair dye and get back to me. try the stuff hot topic sells
be god now
Is your head ok?