q. i. f?

I started this blog mostly out of wanting to get a handle on, and engage with other thoughtful people out there about, my sense of purpose (not to say vocation — but we’ll put that off, again, for another time) as a creative person — a sometime student of art & design, occasionally a working designer/illustrator, a (still, at that time) would-be architect. The blog’s name reflects that.

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I did something unusual this past weekend — unusual for me, that is: I went away for the holiday weekend. A thoroughly conventional getaway, something my adult life’s mostly been without. The place was a lake-side property owned by my girlfriend’s family; it’s where they go during the summers to relax and catch up with each other. On this Labor-Day occasion, I got invited along. It was lovely.

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Mignola’s graphic style in the H.B. and BPRD books evolves quite a bit in the titles’ first few years. That’s a common enough observation, and nothing specially to do with Mignola as an artist or a writer, for that matter. (Take, e.g., my cartooning idol Richard Thompson: the way he drew Cul de Sac — already at the height of his career as a cartoonist and illustrator, his style well established — underwent a similar period of refinement and simplification after it began in the Post Sunday magazine, and then again after he took it to syndication as a daily.) I’m interested in talking more, sometime, about the evolution of Mignola’s graphic approach in relation to his evolving approach to the stories, but for the moment, let’s just look at an isolated aspect or two of the change, in very brief terms.

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The last two posts here cracked open the door, just a bit, to some discussion of visual stereotyping and race. I didn’t have any definite plan to open that door further, but it’s interesting stuff, to say the least, and a good way to go for a wider historical field on the subject of graphics and human figure. So let’s just push it open and encounter the dangers within as we may.

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I may not draw a lot these days, but it’s no real exaggeration to say I think about drawing all the time. What I think about — or have in back of mind at least — particularly is the problem of representing human form, not so much in the sense of portrayal and its possibilities, but in the sense of iconography, visual language, linear phraseology. It’s what makes comics and cartooning so compelling for me, I believe, in spite of my general feeling of disappointment with the medium’s evolution.

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I’ve been reading Grant Morrison’s gushy-trippy memoirish, Supergods, lately — since about a week after learning of it by way of this post in Darrell’s series meandering among the pagans, currently in progress. (Go take a look.) I mention in a comment there that I hadn’t heard of the book. Actually, I had no idea who Morrison was before reading that post. That tells you something about extent of my appreciation of comic book culture.

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Alright, not bad. Somewhat predictably fraught with annoyance, let’s say. WordPress threw me for a bit of a loop with a version step-up — version 3.9, evidently a big one. After install, it looked like I’d lost the slew of little typographical and other tweaks to the layout I was using until yesterday — all the tweaks that made it feel okay, or like mine anyway. As it turns out, I was wrong; the tweaks weren’t lost. But I didn’t figure that out until I’d gone to some trouble for a new simple starting-point layout. Hence the alterated look here. I’m going to work with it.


— update —
Changed my mind, went back to what I started with. I like it. See comments.

A friend completing ancient-Near-East PhD work contacted me from the other side of the world a few weeks ago. It led to something I haven’t done in years, an illustration job. She didn’t ask me to do the illustration, actually. She wanted to know if I could help find somebody to do it — which interested me, but not as much, as I thought about it, as the possibility of doing it myself. Either was going to take time, anyhow.

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I’ve been feeling the limits of my ability to make good use of Facebook lately, the last year or so. I use it daily — as listening post, as vehicle for conversation, as opportunity to keep up with people I otherwise wouldn’t very well, as opportunity to get to know people I otherwise might not. It’s good for all those things, exceptionally good in some ways, and I mean to go on using it as long as it serves. No real quarrels with Facebook. But its generalness is a problem sometimes — perhaps especially for a natural generalist (and generalizer) like me.

I’ve recognized for a good while, too, that this site — which I’ve always been reluctant to call a blog, since I’m no diarist or habitual writer — hasn’t been much suited to the life I actually lead. That’s owed partly to the way I set it up in the first place. I’d deliberately made it inflexible, thinking the confines would encourage me in certain hard-to-define creative paths. It wasn’t altogether a bad idea, where I saw myself several years ago. Life has moved on, though, and the site must adjust. Or why keep it?

I keep it because I keep thinking it has its uses. One of the things I need here is a tool for turning the fruit of the media listening I manage to do, ‘social’ or other, to productive ends. Or a tool different from Gmail and Evernote, let’s say. Something in between these primarily private info-management resources and the public space of social media — bounded, but at the same time outward & communicative.

So I’ve given up the old look (mostly) and abandoned Textpattern (which I liked and learned a good deal from) for the greater convenience & connectivity of WordPress. And the look may yet change abruptly again; that’s part of the point of WordPress convenience. How I’ll get to the adding and dividing of life & work ‘content’ in the near-term, I’m not certain yet. It may continue to seem kind of haphazard around here. I mean, not everything has to change.

Over a few recent days I’ve been listening to an interview with Jack Kirby, done in L.A. in 1990, posted on YouTube by the Jack Kirby Museum. He’s 72, and he rambles and loses track of the questions, and you get the feeling the show hosts don’t quite know what to do with him. But he’s fun to listen to, on the whole. A theme he seems to like returning to is the idea that storytelling runs in his family. I can’t help thinking that he was probably always the rambly, discursive, storytelling type of conversationalist. Maybe the guy we’re hearing on tape is someone really not far removed from the guy who started out in Superman and Batman knockoffs during the Depression, fifty-odd years earlier.

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