The last few days I’ve been working like a dog on comics. The superficial reason is to get ahead for my trip to Jonesboro. The deeper reason is I’m remembering who I am. Twenty one years ago I decided I was going to be a comic book artist. Thirteen years ago I decided I was going to actually do something about it and started doing Kota’s World. A week ago I decided I was going to work like a mad man and try to live the dream. Maybe there’s no money in it, but it keeps me sane and makes me feel special.
On some level, this makes my life terribly simple. I know what I want to be, I know what I’m capable of, and I know my purpose. I was given that purpose in a very odd way, but I have it. I know I’m on the right path despite setbacks and the machinations of the world’s people. Whatever troubles I may have in my mind and no matter the doubts, I know what I’m doing on some level. It’s just a matter of getting there and getting on that road.
I also find that things go better all around when I just concentrate on my work like this. It shows in the story and the art and people appreciate it. During the dark times, when I’m lamenting my place in the world, the art and story suffer. When I just shut up, enjoy the work and get it done my life seems to synch up like an ipod with a mac.
Ok. That is by far the worst metaphor I’ve ever used and I’m going to close right now before I come up with something far worse.