So who all is going to Chicago to see Noah at the end of the month?
I wanna meet everyone!
If I don't have a plan, I'll end up to scared to talk to anyone and miss out on everything.
Don't let that happen! (pretty please) I'm starting to freak out!
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Bay Area KCU
The San Francisco Bay Area’s first Kids Comics Unite-Up brought members from north and south to the East Bay’s Sun Gallery. The gathering was delightfully convivial.
(L-R) myself, Bethanie MurguiaJenny Fang Julia Maisen Maritza Ruiz-Kim Edna Cabcabin Moran
While the gallery’s current exhibition was being re-hung our hosts gave us free reign of their maker-space where after a rolling…
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Holiday Streamily Signing
Come to my fan-meet starting today and running through Sunday!
All we will be discussing is Kaeluc and its effect on our society.
I'm also giving out free autographs!
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
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Kids Comics Unite-up
It’s official, I’m organizing the first ever KIDS COMICS UNITE-UP! It’s a small informal meet-up of members from the online community KidsComicsUnite.com
This event is open to any local member of KCU and will begin at 3:00pm PST Saturday January 27th 2024. Hosted by the Sun Gallery in Hayward California. The 33rd Annual Children’s Book illustrator Exhibit will be on display and open to the…
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A Weekend of Reading
New blog post: A Weekend of Reading.
I’m in a few different literary groups that meet on a monthly or weekly basis. There is also one that’s active only a few times a year, set up by a pal who is a particularly enthusiastic reader. The group has come to be known as the Seasonal Readathon.
From its inception until earlier this year, its format had been largely the same: we would reserve a Saturday or a Sunday and spend time reading…
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Tim swears Phantom could’ve been a Titan. Maybe he should be, at this point. They have enough in common to justify it.
“Jeez,” Phantom groans. Abruptly, he drops the levitation and hits the roof without sound. He stretches out on his back like a cat, sore muscles straining in a way Red Robin deeply relates to. “Fighting the living sucks. At least with ghosts I can swing as hard as I need. Already dead means they get back up! But mortals? Way too squishy.”
Red Robin huffs in agreement. “Yeah,” he says. After a moment’s consideration, he lies down, too.“It’s a hundred times harder than people realize. Batman’s always going on about perfect control in training. About how to have it, you gotta be twice as skilled as the other guy. Even without your super-strength, I worry sometimes.”
“How do you do it?” Phantom asks. In a move only achievable to those without bones, or perhaps Dick Grayson, he twists himself over. Gloved hands cup his cheeks. His legs kick back and forth, like they’re gossiping at a slumber party. “I mean. You said you train, so obviously there’s the physical ‘how.’ But how do you keep your emotions nonlethal? How do you keep yourself in check, make sure you’re pulling back?”
“I mean,” says Red Robin. “Murder is illegal, so.”
Phantom sighs. “Yeah. Maybe it’s easier for you.”
… Hm. Maybe Red Robin should redo Phantom’s risk assessment.
Before he can raise too high an eyebrow (though even moving that muscle smarts, ow), Phantom elaborates.
“Ecto-based entities have trouble with their emotions,” he explains. “It’s easy to get lost in an Obsession, or a big feeling like grief. The rest of the world… it bleeds away. Helps to have another emotional anchor to keep it at bay. I use fear.”
“Fear?” Red Robin glanced over.
“Sometimes sheer stubbornness,” Phantom admits. “But a lot of it is fear.”
With a considering frown, he drops his head atop his arms. Exhaustion, regret, reluctance play out on his face. For someone the Bats know next to nothing about, Phantom’s body language is an open book.
“I saw, like, an alternate future version of myself once where I become evil and try to take over the world? So now I gotta be good to keep that from happening. The fear of that future keeps the pressure on me. Makes me focus up. Y’know?”
Tim sits up. “Seriously?”
Phantom nods. “Uh-huh. Kinda bizarre, I know—”
“What the hell,” says Tim. Three consecutive days together and a concussion must loosen his lips, because holy shit, no way. “Dude! Me too!”
“Huh? Seriously?” says Phantom.
“Yeah! I totally saw myself turn evil. Like, Batman but with guns. Guns Batman. I had to fight him and everything. He tried to kill my friends and erase my memory to make sure I couldn’t un-invent him by going back to change the past?”
“Oh my god.”
“What?”
“Oh my god, me too!”
happy wips wednesday!
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