Even as a wee lass, I wasn't very good at the "girly" thing. You know - sugar, spice, everything nice, rainbows and butterflies. Screw that shit. In my early teen years, my idols were ass-kicking, Lycra wearing instruments of vengeance and justice. My thirteenth summer, slathered in bug spray at the picnic table, I mirrored my older foster brother and carefully drew from a 2 1/2 X 3 1/2 card these amazing heroes and villains - creating 8 x 10 homages to telepathy, pyrokenisis, super-strength and every other mutant power imaginable.
Over time my drawing skills improved (I was never terrible, to give myself credit. But whoever says art isn't work needs a punch in the face.) Throughout my teens I produced countless renditions of these beloved characters... drawing comfort from their strength and weaknesses, trials and tribulations. Walkman - the cassette kind, to be clear; and if you don't know what a cassette is, go play with some Teletubbies in traffic, ok? - and sketchpad were my companions, and drawing Angela's righteous and gory adventures in Spawn became my peace, my blood-colored rainbow.
Throughout college and my subsequent adulthood, I've revisited those days from time to time, but never with any genuine effort or concentration. I repeat; Art is WORK. Whenever the desire to create would tickle my fancy, frustration got the better of me, as the lithe powerful forms I used to draw with ease eluded me.
I've recently been suffering one of these artistic seizures, and haven't been too impressed with my results. Normally, now's the time my infamous A.D.D. kicks in and pulls me to another of my chaotic interests. As in "Screw This, I Don't Want To Play With You Guys Anymore". But I'm finding there's something compelling me to invest a little more time and effort into this endeavor, and damned if I'm not daydreaming a leisurely afternoon with some A Perfect Circle, my watercolors and ink, and a sexy femme fatale in a mask. Ahh, the fodder for Comic-Con wet dreams everywhere...
I have the immensely talented Hildebrant Brothers to thank for much of my childhood inspiration... during my misspent youth I had collected almost the entire Marvel Masterpiece 1994 Series of Comic Book Cards, each a shrine to artwork and the glory of a world where good and evil may have worn masks, had fiery multiple personality disorders (ohh, sweet Phoenix), and tormented souls (♥Spawn♥) but by and large, they were better beings than we could ever hope to be, awesome terrible creations of our imagination that were simply projections of the desires in all of us. And, they made tights and utility belts look damned good.
Listening to: Jeff Buckley - Your Flesh Is So Nice