oh dear

On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it that during our discussion of Seraphs and classes of angels at the Seder last night, anything I chipped in with was badly-remembered information from the Preacher comics?

Eeeeep.

currently rocking my world

1. Dr Horrible's Sing-Along Blog
Have I mentioned before how much I love Joss Whedon? I have? Frequently? Oh. Well, here's just another example of why. Musical webisodes about a supervillian (Dr Horrible), his arch nemesis (Captain Hammer), and the girl of his dreams...

'Joss Whedon set out on the low-budget project during the writers' strike as a lark and a labor of love — and to show the industry an out-of-the-box project could find an audience. But the overwhelming response has caught him by surprise.

"We had this home-baked idea that we love and we're proud of," Whedon says. "We made this on the understanding that we'd never make a dime. But it's blown up beyond our expectations." '

The first Act made me giggle with absolute glee. Who else - seriously, who on earth else? - could have come up with something like this, and made such a site-crashing success? Because that's what happened - the blog was so popular the servers crashed. If that's not a show of love, I don't know what is. Joss Whedon, I salute you. And can't wait for Dollhouse.

Here's the trailer - then go watch the full episodes.

2. Y The Last Man
So on my lunchbreak today I made a trip to the comic store to pick up the most recent Buffy series 8 issues (see above for the Whedon love), and discovered the last collected volume of YTLM, Book 10 - Whys & Wherefores (which is only available for pre-order on Amazon, so was perhaps an American import?). I was reading it on the tube home this evening, after a couple of cocktails in Soho, and about halfway through really wished I wasn't reading it in public. So. Gutting. Augh.

As with all good things, I was worried about how it was going to end, and wasn't sure about the epilogue, until the last couple of pages, which just made me laugh with relief. Brian K Vaughan and Pia Guerra, I salute you too.

3. Everything else:

If you make me a part of your child’s life, I will imprint myself upon them…

I tried reading Watchmen to my godson Tayo when he was 5 months old but he just wasn’t that in to it. The Marvel Heroes X Men pop up book went down a bit better when he’d just turned one, and now he’s approaching two (where has the time gone?!) I bombard him with comic book t-shirts. We went shopping and came back with two Spiderman and one Batman t-shirts. And that’s not even touching upon the NJ Nets and Run DMC things I got him as a baby…


And then there’s goddaughter Margot, who got her first Ramones t-shirt three months before she was even born, and who I had much fun stocking up for in New York – this Clash onesie from Trash & Vaudeville being a prime example. So punk rock.

inky hands

Life as I currently know it is so boring and tedious (christ do I hate job hunting) that it drove me to actually create a short comic, instead of just kind of scribbling down doodles and ideas as usual. I managed to get an inordinate amount of ink on my hands whilst inking it (because I'm a big spaz). It's pretty silly and retarded... but it was fun. I'm hoping this creative kick will continue and not just be a one-hit wonder. Here are the first few panels. The rest of the two page comic is up online somewhere (if you can find it, mwahahah)...

best present ever™

Love & Rockets, Eightball, Amphigorey 1 and 2, Stray Toasters, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and a beautiful sketch book, from my own personal Patron of the Arts. So rad.

Art School Confidential part one

I know from experience that I can't handle long stretches in an office without some kind of creative outlet. When I first left uni, I would do short temp. contracts with the broadcasting company then go play on film sets or do some writing in the month or so between the jobs. The year in New York, when I HAD to stay a whole year in the same office job really ground me down at times - probably what pushed me to really get the freelance thing going. The writing, along with planning and doing small zines and projects with CC (with more emphasis on the planning; this 'planning' often took place at Union Pool or the Pink Pony or somewhere similar, which may explain why it was more talk, less action...) helped make the continuous office existence more or less bearable.

Back to the present, and what with this "two week temp job" now stretching into its eighth month, and fed up of office life, I took a week off work to go do summer school - 'Illustration for Comics and Graphic Novels' at Central St Martins.

Having booked the course in a flurry of excitement with the intention of re-reading Will Eisner and Scott McCloud and getting back into drawing practice, it then happened that I was given a last-minute freelance assignment (Siouxsie Sioux!) with a super-short turnaround, which basically squashed my ideas of turning up well-read and well-prepared. The Sunday night before the course I started having kittens (What if I'm not good enough? What if everyone can see I'm a fraud? I won't be the only girl, will I? What if everyone is younger than me?); I had somewhat panic-stricken conversation with Dan, who, as my chief source of all things art-related, I had hoped would calm my nerves, but when he left to go for brunch (the five hour time difference, folks), I succumbed to the fear - and gave up and watched the musical episode of Buffy. Good prep work.

As it turns out it was all fine. I got up to Holborn with about half an hour in hand so I downed some coffee then went up to CSM HQ on Southampton Row. I was directed to room 214, where I sat and waited until the lecturer turned up near to 10. We chatted a little about my background (writing) and comics and stuff, while waiting for the rest of the class to appear. They never did. The lecturer eventually went to see what had happened - and turns out we'd both been directed to the wrong classroom. We went up to the third floor where everyone was waiting. Once in the new classroom we were made to do those horrendously awkward intros that people leading groups are so fond of making you do. I was relieved to discover I wasn't the only one that wasn't an arts major (nor was I the only girl, or the oldest).

These first couple days we've had to keep pairing up and drawing each other in different poses and so on - first of all focusing on facial expressions, then moving on to full body poses - and of course both times I got the guy who's doing an MA in illustration and the guy who's in the middle of an arts degree and whose drawings reminded me quite a lot of those in the 'Fables' series, making my amateur attempts look... well, even more amateur. It was, however, quite heartening to hear a lecturer (from Central St Martins, no less) tell me "I don't know what you're talking about, you CAN draw".

A selection days one and two; the central figure is a copy of Ramona Flowers, heroine of the Scott Pilgrim series, created by Bryan Lee O'Malley





Better bigger

monday night

I judge books by their covers. I know I shouldn't, but I do. Recently, I've found myself judging a book and therefore not reading it, then somehow picking it up again a while later and *loving* it.

Major cases in point: Maus - couldn't believe how amazing it was. Preacher - one of my favourite series, even if I still don't like the cover art that much. And now Bill Willingham's Fables.

The prologue of the book I'm currently reading got me really choked up this evening as I finished reading it during intermission at the National.

And then thinking about the book and its title led me to thinking about Hans Christian Andersen tale that I always loved, that always made me sad.

And then the play re-started, and my arse went numb and I fidgeted like a little child, much to the harrumping of the in general much older audience all around.