It may be time to admit publicly that I’ve gotten around only in the past year or so to acquainting myself with Mike Mignola‘s B.P.R.D. stories — long, long after they achieved cult fandom and critical success and spawned a couple of crappy muppet movies. Mignola’s characters are kind of irresistible for me. This in spite of my lack of feeling since childhood — distaste, really — for the macabre and for monster stories of all kinds, and in spite of their thinness (not as comic book characters go, but as fictional characters I’m generally attracted to go).
Let’s put off to another time what about or how or whether in fact I do particularly like the stories. I’m not enough of a comic book reader to get all my thoughts about them into a decent nutshell in any case. The thing I bother to note here is just that they’ve kept me wanting to draw. (I’ve decided that it is the stories and not sheer Mignola infatuation alone that’s to credit.) Not that I am drawing much at all these days, in reality; but every time I read a couple of pages of these things (on my iPhone, usually in the bathroom), I want to start exploring them and their world, and before long other fictional worlds, with a pencil. Not much else has done that for me in the past year or two, as my attention’s been heavily occupied with other problems.
Still, I’m not drawing much, just very much wanting to from time to time — and usually while sitting on a toilet, not at for instance a desk.
But here are a few satisfying-enough Hellboy scribbles from rare moments when I haven’t been pulled away by thoughts more pressing or diverting — or been too intimidated, being out of the habit, to pick up the pencil. It’s not much, but it’s not nothing either.