Archive for May, 2024

4 comics.

Foresight and Hindsight

May31
by on May 31, 2024 at 6:20 pm

A four panel, full color comic. In the first panel, a young Emily sits at a table in her room, idly coloring a picture of a field with a sunflower. She looks moody as she slouches a bit in her chair, lamenting "I'm so tired of being bullied in school...I can't wait until I'm older so I'm cool." In the second panel, from off panel, a voice says "Bad news, kid," which Emily reacts to in shock, turning toward the direction of the voice. In the third panel, present Emily stands in the room, dressed in a big blanket hoodie and crocs, holding a mug of coffee. She addresses her younger self with "We are definitely still not cool." In the fourth panel, the younger Emily reacts to the older Emily with an excited shout of "ARE YOU DRESSED LIKE A WIZARD," to which the older Emily replies smugly "Ok we're KINDA cool."

Also man, if I’m being honest, I don’t remember who you’re even talking about. So that’s a plus. 🧙 Thanks for reading!

└ Tags: 

An Absence

May24
by on May 24, 2024 at 10:00 am

A five panel, full color comic. In the first panel, a bed is shown, comforter askew and the morning light shining in through a window behind it. Narration begins: "On a day that begins with the news I'd been dreading for a month, it feels strange, callous even, to continue as normal." In the second panel, Emily carries a bundle of sheets down the hallway, looking exhausted. The narration continues: "But perhaps, in that way, even the mundane becomes infused with memory." In the third panel, Emily fills up the detergent cap. The narration continues: "So I do my laundry." In the fourth panel, Emily stands at an ironing board, ironing a shirt. The narration continues: "And I iron my clothes." In the Firth panel, a tree is seen outside, with the silhouette of the buildings on the street in the distance. The light is soft and warm. The narration concludes: "And I set out to find small ways in my day to remember you."

Thank you for reading. See you next week.

└ Tags: 

About November 2023

May10
by on May 10, 2024 at 8:45 am

A series of four, four panel comics, all rendered in magenta and green. They are described with their title: 11/4/24: ON A COLD GLASS In the first panel, a cold glass of beer sits on a bartop, condensation dripping down the side of the glass. The narration begins, "I'm not religious but I think there is something holy about this." In the second panel, we zoom out to see Emily sitting at the bartop, eyes closed and smiling, other folks around her chatting around the bar. The narration continues: "Permission to simply sit and exist, the low rumble of bar chatter, a cold glass in my hand." In the third panel, Emily chats with a friend as the narration continues: "The moments after will be full of laughter, friends, honest conversations and wild jokes." In the fourth panel, Emily walks outside, light beeming from her and the Chicago skyline behind. The narration concludes: "Each fraction of this night a pearl of light I want to carry with me for as long as I can." 11/14/24: ON WINTER BLUES In the first panel, Emily stands in the break room of her office, looking over the city skyline and sighing with exhaustion. The narration begins, "The high is 60 degrees today and yet winter has wrapped around me with the iron grip of talons." In the second panel, she walks down the stairs of the office stairwell, fiddling with her phone. The narration continues, "But I'm equipped now, and I've done this before." In the third panel, we zoom in on her phone as she selects an audio file from her browser. The narration continues, "So I pull a rip cord (one of many.)" In the fourth panel, Emily walks outside, enveloped in the sound of the audio coming through her earbuds. She holds the bubble as if it's a physical object. The narration concludes, "And I let myself remember I'm not alone." 11/19/24: ON TWO A.M. In the first panel, a row of stars shines through the night sky, framed by the silhouette of a tree. The narration begins, "It's almost two a.m." In the second panel, we zoom in on Emily, a wisp of breath coming out her mouth as she stairs up at the sky. The narration continues, "And Orion is so bright." In the third panel, we zoom out to see Emily standing, looking up, backed by buildings with smoke plumes coming out of them. The narration continues, "The same stars I looked to on so many lonely nights." In the fourth panel, the three stars span the entire frame. The narration concludes, "Now lighting my way home after an evening with dear friends." 11/22/24: ON AN OLD JACKET In the first panel, Emily sits in the driver seat of her car, looking tired off into the distance. The narration begins, "Coming back feels like trying to wear an old jacket that doesn't quite fit anymore." In the second panel, three versions of Emily stand in profile, each in a different color palette, indicating time passing. The narration continues, "The person I was is always under the person I am now." In the third panel, Emily stands with her back to the camera, looking out over the highway from a rest stop parking lot. The narration continues, "And one day she too will be buried under the person I become." In the fourth panel, we see the road ahead and the dashboard of Emily's car, with her phone mounted on it for directions, showing I-80 East. The narration concludes, "But for now there is just the old jacket and the nagging guilty feeling that I don't call this place home enough anymore." 11/30/24: ON PREPARED In the first panel, Emily puts the cap on a tube of eyeliner. The narration begins, "I should be used to the public aspect of art by now, shouldn't I?" In the second panel, Emily stands fiddling with her scarf. The narration continues, "The idea of our work being seen by so many people, offering their opinions, some likely unkind and with no intent on softening the blow." In the third panel, Emily, now all bundled up, walks down the street. The narration continues, "That scrutiny scares me more than this regular exercise in public vulnerability. I don't know if my armor is strong enough." In the fourth panel, Emily pulls out the chair at a bartop. The narration concludes, "But maybe, surrounded by my friends, it doesn't need to be."

I realized this week that I’ve fallen criminally behind on sharing journal comics here, so in the off weeks, I’ll be catching up on them! Here are the journal comics from November of last year.

└ Tags: