My interest in comics started at a young age, but it wasn’t until I was about about 18 that I really began to understand the full potential of the medium.
That was when I saw the documentary Crumb for the first time and had the artistic equivalent of a religious experience. My sketchbook quickly grew fat with ink that night as I frantically tried to comprehend the world that had just opened up before me. Robert Crumb’s relationship with drawing really resonated with me, and I’ve used his obsessive abilities as a barometer for my own output ever since.
As a self-important teenager, I also used to get girls to watch the documentary with me within the first few dates … my misguided theory was that if they liked it then they would like me. One girl seemed to think I was just into sick flicks and so she got me to watch Requiem for a Dream and The Ring upon the Blockbuster clerk’s recommendation.
Another girl eventually dumped me.
Yet another one married me. See? The system works!
As a kid, my summers were often spent visiting my grandparents in Regina Beach. There used to be a little book store in the town from which my folks purchased a number of Peanuts collections in pocket book format.
I spent weeks poring over the little drawings. The covers always struck me as odd because Charlie Brown’s shirt was always coloured red … probably to reduce the number of colours needed for printing. Anyway, I only recently realized this when I went to colour Chuck with a red ballpoint pen.
And what was with the shape of Linus’ head anyway? He must have taken a pretty bad hit sometime in the 1970s.
These sketches were done during the winter.
I really like winter for two reasons demonstrated above: 1) It’s nice to huddle under a blanket and travel across landscapes of pixels, and 2) It’s fun to bundle up and travel across landscapes of snowflakes.
Unfortunately winter somehow makes me curse like a drunk high school teacher and draw cats really badly.
If my sketchbook and I were dating, it would have broken up with me a long time ago. I take it with me everywhere, but we almost never talk, and when we do talk it’s usually just to fight and argue.
But working full time does wonders for one’s perception of time. After spending too many eight-hour days staring at a computer screen, one starts to realize just how many hours are silently squandered each day. It took me over a year to fully realize this, and so my sketchbook and I are totally an item again. I bring it out for coffee breaks. We talk. We laugh. It’s just like when we started going out.
Some of the scribbling I’ve done was later re-used for the Daily Sketchbook Strips, or other projects. So if you’re some kind of weirdo who likes to see the genesis of an idea, there’s that. I love that kind of shit.