TOOLS OF THE TRADE?

Ever wonder why artists have these mannequins? I certainly never use mine. Perhaps they provide a very rough idea of perspective to some, but the anatomy is so vague and nondescript that it's less than useless. So why do I own one? Well, because the Intergalactic Federation of Artist Standards requires all artists to prominently display one of these articulated dust-collectors near their work-space. It's how we in-the-know identify each other, like a secret handshake. Of course, one would think the old-underwear-turned-paint-rags, poor sleep habits, and empty bank-account would be sufficient to identify one as an artist, but, no, apparently only a dingus like this is sufficient to convey to the world that one occupies the ranks of creative minds. Without one of these you may as well be –snicker– a mere hobbyist whose time is spent at scrapbook parties. Ever noticed how artists who have died in obscurity failed to get one of these? Laugh if you will, but my little wooden-head has performed wonders for me. As long as I've owned mine, I've never had a million-dollar deal go sour. Of course, I've never had a million-dollar deal, but that's besides the point. 

POINT AND SHOOT

I've lately created sample presentation-storyboards to a client. I submitted several styles, from fully illustrated to an illustrated style that's really dependent on photo manipulation. This requires I either swipe lots of photos and manipulate them to make them unrecognizable to even their authors, or take lots of photos myself. I've done both, but I want to create my own stock of reference, which leads us to the subject of photography. I've got four wee ones (seven, five, three, and one) and I often miss plenty of those 'special moments' due to two reasons.

The first I call the "Warner Bros. frog moment". For those who recall, there was a Warner Bros. cartoon, "One Froggy Evening", wherein a construction worker found a box with a singing/dancing frog (this frog, I believe, currently serves as a logo-mascot character for the WB Network). Naturally the construction worker saw the monetary potential in such a find, so he takes the frog to talent agents and such, but when he shows them the frog, the thing just sits there. Everyone thinks the poor sap is looney, and by the end of the cartoon he really is off his nut. Well, when it comes to the fruit 'O' my loins, I'm often faced with the same phenomenon. There they are doing something so cute you just want to pinch their cheeks until they bleed, and I run to get the camera, and by the time I return, fumble to get the dang thing turned on and focused . . . "ribbet". Nothing. They just sit there.

The second reason I've failed to record those great moments is due to poor equipment. There I am, camera in hand, powered up, aimed at the little stinkers before they can foil me with another Warner-Bros-frog-moment, and . . . click. As I eagerly review my shot, I see that there's nothing to show for the moment but a blur. At those moments I want to throw the camera against the wall. Sure, I could have caught the action with my film SLR, but who in the world still uses film? Why waste money buying film and having it processed? It was an insufferable situation. Luckily my wife saved me from becoming an interminable whiner by graciously allowing me to move from a digital point-and-shoot to a DSLR. Yes, it's actually for work, but it'll allow me to capture the little tykes without blur should the need arise.

Finally, this brings us to the million-dollar question: Canon or Nikon? For those familiar with the two, and who manage to remain unbiased (if that's possible), both are equally capable (or so I've been told, confirmed by my own research). Sure, there are fan-boys on both sides, but I suppose you can't go wrong either way. My good pal uses a Nikon for sports, and he gets great pics. Another chum uses a Canon for sports and nature shots, and he gets great results. All of the cameras I've ever owned have been Canon, from my film SLR to all the digital point-and-shoot cameras. I saw no reason to jump ship, so I went with what I knew. The video below is a review of the camera I chose. Will it eliminate those 'Warner Bros. frog' moments? Well, not likely, but eliminating one out of two obstacles is progress.

"When there's a single thief, it's robbery. When there are a thousand thieves, it's taxation." ~ Vanya Cohen

It's time again to clean out the file-drawer and wade through stacks of paperwork in order to prepare my tax-return. It's not as dreadful as, say, visiting a proctologist whose hands are the size of catcher's mitts, to be certain, but it's a disagreeable chore nonetheless. It's all that . . . math, which I dislike. I've been told artists use the side of their brain opposite that which handles all the math and computational duties, i.e., artists, in general, have weak math skills. I'm not so sure this is an accurate generality, but it certainly applies to yours truly. I think the thing I find most objectionable is the need for accuracy. It's not like one can just say, "well, I made around this much, give or take a couple grand". Ballpark-figure is a term entirely foreign to IRS agents. They're far too persnickety for my taste. 

taxes.mp3

Who says miracles don't happen? Why, the last time I got Bell's Palsy, it took almost an entire year to completely recover. This time, with lots of prayer from family and friends, I've recovered enough in less than two weeks that one can hardly tell I have this. At this rate, I'll be totally well in another week or so. Coincidence? Luck? Chance? Poppycock, says I. Give credit where credit is due, says I. Thank God for a change, says I . Speak like a pirate every once in a while, says I. 

BEATING THE ODDS AIN'T ALWAYS GOOD

For the record, I've recently been afflicted with a bout of Bells Palsy, a disorder of which 90% of those afflicted will only suffer from once in their lifetime. I'm one of the lucky few who beat those odds to get this for the second time. I'm not quite as rare as the odd fellow who gets struck by lightning, but the experience is hardly better --- though the fellow with the glowing hair may beg to differ with me. 

For those unfamiliar with Bells Palsy, the disorder is caused by either a virus, stress, flabby love-handles, or lack of cash. No one's really sure which is the cause, and perhaps it differs with each individual, so I'll leave it to you to conjecture as to what brought this about in my case. I can't say with apodictic certainty, but I suspect the latter cause to be the culprit. 

TRADITION!

I'm not addressing the kind of tradition-for-tradition-sake that Tevye advocated. I wanted to address the nature and evolution of comic panels. Having been raised in the seventies, the comics I read as a kid usually had traditional panel layouts. Oh, sure. there was the occasional panel break and so forth, but nothing like the anarchy of design I see today -- if it can be fairly described as design. Much of it looks like ten pounds of guano in a five-pound sack. Everything comes in the "jumble-O-crap" layout (to borrow a locution from Lilecks). One can hardly follow the flow of the page, and I find it entirely distracting from the story. I'm not exactly longing for six panels perfectly aligned vertically and horizontally, but there's got to be some happy medium, a line that was crossed with abandon after I grew up and left comics. Imagine my shock when I returned to it as a business and found the place a mess. I don't want to sound as if this is a ubiquitous problem -- there are a lot of good designers out there, and I think much of the mess has been cleaned up -- but, all too often, some people try to be 'creative' when they don't understand a lick about design. But then again, what do I know?