It may be a bit early to start thinking about things like endpapers. For most publishers, they tend to be an afterthought, that's if they're considered at all (Obviously not the case for the rare obsessive-types. Yes, I'm totally talking about Chris Ware).
I've actually had the idea for the these endpapers since kickstarting the project some 3 years ago. At the time of course I thought the project would be one book. Two years in, and additional research into production stuff, it became clear that it would have to be two books (presented in a single slipcase for Kickstarter backers). Rather than repeat the same imagery across all four endpaper spreads, I came up with one continuous scroll that would be divided into four different endpaper spreads.
The above two for what will become Volume 1.
These two for what will become Volume 2.
I drew these towards the end of 2017, after having just moved to Denver. If I remember correctly, these took me about a month to complete, which—I'm sure even by Chris Ware's standards—is a ridiculous amount of time to spend on endpapers of all things. I'm glad I did it though, because it'll really set the tone for the story the minute you crack open that cover. Also, I had the opportunity to utilize these drawings for an art show based on THE SOLAR GRID.
“Business”-wise, it may not seem like the best utilization of time, but from an artistic stand-point (stupid, stupid artistic stand-point), I think the win is on multiple fronts!
Although the art for these endpapers was completed two years ago, I've only gotten around to putting together these mockups now, primarily because I'm in the negotiation stages of bringing THE SOLAR GRID to a particular Euro market by the end of 2021, and production deets are already being discussed.
No newsletter today, marking a 3-week hiatus which is not something I'm happy about. Particularly because I never announced it beforehand, but it's not something I anticipated would happen.
Still not much content worthy of a newsletter tbh, and I need to spend the day figuring some stuff out, like... operating this weird machine:
Our due date is somehow very soon all of a sudden and you can't be too prepared for this sort of thing.
“Project Handjob” was unleashed today, the actual name of which I can now reveal to be: IT TAKES A VILLAGE. An installation of sorts meant to activate the exterior of the Moody Center while its insides remain shuttered for the summer (what with a very contagious virus still roaming among us that everyone seems to have forgotten about!).
Just a teaser image for now, until official photography is taken next week.
Houston's restaurants and bars may have opened their doors to crowds of patrons, unmasked and ungloved, but the people operating in non-profit art organizations aren't rushing to chase the money with complete disregard for human life. So no big art opening for this thing. The wife, myself, and a dear of mine did however enjoy an intimate (yet socially distant) get together with the Moody's curator Frauke Josenhans, and her immediate family in a laid back picnic setting on the front lawn right outside the piece, and that was very lovely.
Probably the only bit of socializing with humans other than the wife since... since April.
These days I start my day with coffee and some light reading, typically comix (in this case it's Jack Kirby's NEW GODS). I avoid my phone, email, social pings, and any news stuff for as long as possible.
This lasts for 30 minutes to an hour, and then I'm ready to get to work, usually involving drawing or inking. An hour or two in, and I'm ready for a bite, leaning towards fruit, granola, and yogurt (it must be summer). Back to work again for a couple hours, powered by podcasts and/or music (today it was a Deconstructing Comics episode on Warren's Black Summer/No Hero/Supergod “trilogy”)
(Spoiler: they didn't like them as much as I did.)
By mid-day I break for a shower (it's a mind-trick, deceiving me into thinking I'm getting a fresh start on the day), before lunch (something savory) and another read, preferably non-fiction prose (these days it's either HITLER AND THE POWER OF AESTHETICS, REBELS AGAINST THE FUTURE, or the latest New Yorker.
Back to work again for a few hours, with the last hour reserved for email, important social media responses, and a skim through my feeds, with my workday officially ending at 5:00pm.
Then it's time for dinner prep and winding down with a show or movie. Bed time reading from time to to time, but lately I find that I drift off mid read and am rarely able to retain what I've read or know where I stopped.
A child is forthcoming though, and changes to the daily routine are upon us.
Redrawing a few panels that need redrawing. I hate backtracking, but certain things are just gonna haunt you too much. I think I'm pretty good at letting go and moving on most of the time. You have to pick and choose your “battles”, and it's like that everyday, regardless of what the task at hand is.
Generally speaking, when it comes to comix, I'm a big believer in the overall page being far more important than each individual panel, because it is the overall page that is “the piece” really. It's okay for there to be a panel on that page that won't blow the viewers' eyeballs out of their skulls, just so long as it doesn't ruin the overall page for you. And it can take looking at a thing more than once to know if it's worth redoing.
Too much time lost today figuring out some technical video/sound stuff. Have it down now, so might get to shooting some video content already. Maybe next week.
Jellyfish washing up the shore of Surfside Beach yesterday, which made it less than an ideal beach day, but neither that nor Coronovirus could keep the crowds away. To be fair though, the threat of infection isn't something to worry about at Surfside, not even on the most crowded of days, because the beach-going experience is quite different from any beach I've ever been to anywhere else on Earth. At Surfside, you drive up to the shore—directly up to the shore—in your car. You just park it right there on the beach, and create a little setup right against your car. A setup that could include a few chairs, a foldout table, a canopy, and a grill to name a few. Which is to say, you have a significant amount of territory marked out for you, and virus or not, social distancing is already very much practiced.
It was great to be among so many humans though, even with the aforementioned distances in place. Just the awareness of other peoples' presence, theirs sounds, playful chatter, and competing music... almost forgot what that was like.
It's also got to be one of the most diverse beach-going experiences I've ever had. And I've been to beaches in California, New York, the Netherlands, Egypt, and Vietnam, and absolutely nowhere I've seen is as diverse as Surfside. Walking along the beach, you would cross paths with whites, blacks, Latinos, and fully veiled Muslim women. Music would transition from country rock to hip hop to regaeton and the smells would shift from grilled meats to pizza to apple and grape-tinged shisha.
This, as far as I'm concerned, is exactly how it should be (although, a touch of Netherlands-style nudism wouldn't be a terrible addition).
When I started this blog, I was sincerely hoping I'd treat it more like a journal. The kind of thing you scribble daily thoughts in with complete disregard to whether or not it's being read, whether or not there is an audience for it.
Not that I mind it being read, but I wanted the mindset writing it to be more inward that outward. It's entirely possible though that over a decade of social media has corrupted our ability to write that way, or worse... think that way even.
Inbox zero. Feed-catcher at 99+ though.
Might have to obliterate and start fresh. Need to feel lighter.
Needless to say, a wrench has been thrown in my productivity and any methodology I might have had for going about things has been agitated to say the least.
Working to get back on track despite a rush of thoughts, feels, and ideas.
Just about wrapping up my, uh, my hand job, and don't think I can look at another hand again for a while.
Skipping tomorrow's newsletter. Not much to report this week other than work-in-progress stuff. Will try to spend the weekend tidying up, reading, and thinking.
