On Artist’s Block

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Apr 23rd, 2011
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I hit a bit of an artist block in the past couple of weeks.  Not sure when it raised its ugly unproductive head, but it did, and very apparently so that I’d be reading and re-reading work scripts and absolutely nothing of any interest would take shape in my head.  I was stuck.

And in a freelance profession where income is directly proportional to output rather than “hours spent at the desk,” creative constipation is no joke.

But I seem to have gotten over it and I’m back in full swing, but not without proper remedy.  And so, my friends, I present to you Johnny’s Five-Step program to Getting Your Life Back.

Consume – Most artistic blocks i.e, obstruction of output is usually caused by a lack of creative input or inspiration.  It’s a universal law — you can’t make something from nothing.  So plunge your head into other people’s work, other books, other stories, films, new music, and let it all seep in.  Enjoy it.  Don’t think of it as work, and appreciate it for what it is.  Art.

Commune – But perhaps more important than surrounding yourself with media is surrounding yourself with people.  For comic artists, a hermit-like lifestyle is pretty much the norm; but it’s easier to go stir-crazy  than most people think, so meet up with friends, visit family, or just simply go out into the world and take your hat off.  Spoiler: the sky is blue.

Control – Fight the urge to go back or stay at the desk until you “get through” a block.  It’s not a physical object.  It’s not a boss at the end of a video game level.  Your head is hungry.  Feed it.  Your mind is tired.  Let it rest.

Compose – It can take a day, it can take a week, but when ideas start flowing freely again, it’s incredibly easy to tell which is forced and which isn’t.  Think your process through.  In my case, I like to go back to my illustration and sequential basics, and more often than not, the rest just takes shape for me.

Commit – If you’re something I like to call a human being, any creative endeavor will come with a healthy amount of self doubt.  And you know what?  That’s okay.  It’s okay to suck.  The important thing is that with every pen stroke and every new panel, you try to suck a little less.  Accept that what you put on paper was the very best you could do at the time, but drive yourself  to get better.

There you have it, guys.  The Five (unintentional) C’s of how to get over a case of artist’s block.  Of course I realize that not all artists are alike, and this could work only for me, but if you ever feel like your creative output needs a refresher, you might want to consider at least giving this a try.

Ghost Ink

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Mar 23rd, 2011
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Time was I’d go through the trouble of redrawing a whole panel with a mistake in it, or at least do a patch or a frisket for a small revision.  I’ve covered up many asymmetrical faces and oversized hands this way, and boy did it take time.  Having to rescan single elements in, then meticulously pasting it via Photoshop like some digital crane operator was never something I looked forward to.

Digital drawing didn’t right away occur to me as the obvious solution.  I’ve been coloring with a mouse for as long as I can remember, and when my peers demanded I get a drawing tablet, it only ever hit me as a coloring tool.  Silly me.

It’s no giant leap, I know.  But now all my page and panel revisions are done digitally.  I erase stuff out and draw things in, all with the Wacom.  Only the correction phase has changed though, all the original art is still done traditionally.  And that retention  makes me happy for some strange reason.

About a week ago I completely adopted the habit of doing absolutely all my spot blacks in the computer.  It’s faster and much less messy, but I’m also left, for all intents and purposes, with an unfinished original page.  There is a balance to be struck here, and I haven’t found it yet.

The irony of being torn between a laborious and messy physical process versus a speedy and accurate ethereal one doesn’t escape me, but hey… comics versus art?

Five Frazettas

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Feb 9th, 2011
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As a pen-and-ink guy, the list of painters in my influence receipt doesn’t run long, but if I were to whittle it down to just one name, I (like so many others) would be left with just one.  Just recently listened to the Sidebar podcast’s tribute to Frank Frazetta, and I thought I’d make a short little rundown of my favorite Fraz paintings.  I also have a couple of his pen and ink work that I really love, but for now we deal in color.

Mothman, to me, is every iconic pulp concept rolled into one striking image.  The strange visitor, the damsel in distress, and the rugged hero.  By washing the whole piece with earth tones, Fraz let the mothman pop out with the vivid tones of his wings and the rich reds of his eyes right smack dab in the center of the canvas.  With so much of the familiar mixed with the otherwordly, it strikes you as both disturbing and nostalgic.

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The Mammoth is all about power.  I won’t pretend to have any familiarity with the thought process behind this piece, but if it were me… it would have sprung forth from a thorough enjoyment of the RAWK.  The RAWK is the jungle halving in the wake of the beast.  The RAWK is the blood in your veins when you charge with spear forward.  The RAWK is the look in its eyes as you stare up from under the shadow of his tusk.  The mammoth brings you the RAWK.

What do you have for it?

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Birdman is an image of freedom.

The figure soars with his head upturned — enjoying the ocean breeze as the salt sprays his face, no doubt?  But then the light falls upon his wings, and we see the ropes binding them to his arms.  It is then one might realize that this may be Daedalus just moments after his son has plummeted into the ocean, with his face upturned, cursing the gods.

Birdman is an image of loss?

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The Godmakers is a dirty, dirty image.

One might say it’s a play on self-reflexive self-reliance.  We try so hard to escape each other, but we’ve all we’ve got.  That hand hoisting you up may also be a crab claw pulling you down.

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But mostly it’s just a dirty, dirty image.

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Spider Man, originally and preferably titled Night Walk, is a testament to one image speaking a thousand words.  We know not the man who has slain the foul arachnid.  But we know the rage in his face and we know the fire he may be feeling in his venom-stained arms.  His left  knee presses into the spider’s abdomen, crushing it, forcing rancid bubbles up to the surface.

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It was a long and ugly battle, and he may have been able to cut off one of the beast’s many legs, but only with this decisive impaling of its thorax does it end.  Green ichor mixes with blood in the blackness of the tar pit.  We’ve all been there.

I like Frank Frazetta.

The Magic Pencil

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Jan 24th, 2011
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Every so often, someone calls my attention to a new tool or technique that will, as they say, ostensibly make the creation of art a lot easier/faster/better.  The latest version of Photoshop.  The new Wacom tablet.  The new graphite Staedtler is cutting their leads with.  I call this ‘The Myth of the Magic Pencil’, partly because it just has a nice ring to it… but mostly because I find these ideas to be more about hats than rabbits.  As much as I like to babble about method and style in the creation of my art, I don’t tend to linger on the tools.  Maybe I’m just backward like that, I don’t know… but I just feel this fixation on gadgetry renders you prone to falling flat on your ass because you were admiring your shoes too much.

Call me a dinosaur or a snob, but I’m of the belief that there is no such thing as a magic pencil.  No single tool can make you a better artist.  In a sense, all these things cooperate and contribute to a self-actualized artistic whole that functions through you, the draftsman.  So quite realistically, the illustrator himself is the magic pencil the ancients speak of.  None of it is magic, because ALL of it is.  All of it.  The light in your studio.  The breeze coming through the blinds.  Your posture.  The coffee in your pot.  That last good movie you saw.  That last great book you read.  The music you play.  The silence you enjoy.

The sweat in your brow.

The throb in your eye.

The pain in your wrist.

All of it.

At the end of the day, it’s all there and waiting for you.  It’s just a matter of using it.

All-Star

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Jan 21st, 2011
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Writing again.  After a coupla quiet months of posting research material, new art, and photos… I figure it’s time to put a leash on the old melon and take it for a walk.  I’ll try not to pee on any porches.  But you know what?  Maybe I will.  I mean, I’m a Leo now apparently.  And lions go where they go.

Am roughly two weeks into married life.  Jad and I live together in Davao now, away from our families.  It’s a lovely mix of playing house with your best friend and getting on each other’s nerves every now and then.  Wouldn’t trade it for the world.  We live in a blue house… which is fitting, considering our entire relationship has been sponsored by Skype ever since we got together two years ago. *snicker *snort

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Saw the first Rebuild of Evangelion film with the wife last night, and I gotta say that film makes the Eva story a lot more accessible than I initially expected it to.  Will see the next one in the week ahead.

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Getting better at pulling a page a day out of my ass.  I don’t know if it’s having to pay rent or the decrease in household distraction that I have to thank for that (or both?), but I’m certainly not as slow as I normally am. I’m running on an internet connection I’m not used to as well, so that may also be contributing to my recent speedy drawtitude. Also making good so far on my 2011 resolution to work on more full-body pin-ups as opposed to con-style head shots.  The portraits are always fun, but it’s gotten a little formulaic, and that’s never a good thing.

It’s a Saturday morning as I write this, and the recently fucked-up Zodiac points to me doing layouts today.

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I had a choice of early-shipping either all my PC and work stuff, or all my comics and graphic novels.  It was a tough decision to make although it shouldn’t have been.  I hope to get all my books before the month ends.  To stay sane, I made sure to pack at least one trade along with my clothes…

Last night, Jad read All-Star Superman from cover to cover and loved it.

Somewhere, a Knight of the Cruciform Sword is saying I have chosen wisely.

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