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Ramble #35

We got owls! We got frogs! We got THE MOON.

Yes, it’s another Ramble, coming to you live from the Meadows Preserve in Ojai, California.

For those of you new to the practice: I record these walk-and-talks every so often as a way to keep track of where my head’s at. If you’d rather read the dispatch, there’s a transcript attached to the end of this Patreon post, but Ramble #35 has particularly nice ambient noises, so I recommend popping on your headphones and maybe taking a walk of your own while you tune in.

Discussed in this Ramble:

Visual addenda:

Two tote bags full of sketchbooks

My sketchbook hoard! Twenty-two years of drawing!

A pencil sketch of a woman with dragon wings and a vaguely medieval tunic

The girl with dragon wings that Sadie requested. (Lord it has been too long since I thought about how to draw dragon wings.)

Two small creatures sitting across the table from each other. The first is saying "We can" and the other responds "go."

I asked Sadie’s younger sister if she’d draw me a tiny book about two squirrels named Nutty and Chewy, who were the frequent subject of improvised stories between me and my mum on long drives. I LOVE this drawing because Zina and I play a game where one person starts by saying “What if” and the other says “we” and the first person says another word and you keep going back and forth until you’ve devised a plan. GITA DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT THIS, but these squirrels are absolutely us.

A single line running down a sketchbook page with a tiny figure drawn below itMy other favorite thing was this page from Sadie’s sketchbook, which baffled me until I realized that this is AN ACTUAL HAIR from her friend Abby, which she GLUED INTO HER SKETCHBOOK and then embellished with a portrait. Absolute genius. 10/10. Love it.

Many sincere thanks to my Patrons who keep me honest with this practice. A lot of this walk was about building momentum, a head of steam, a runway. I can feel it in my bones today. I sat down and wrote a twenty-page letter to an old shipmate who reached out from the mists of time to say hello!! To be clear: I have mail on my desk from 2022. This letter arrived Monday. No idea what’s gotten into me.

But we surf the wave when it comes around.

The Principle of the Thing

Really digging this illustrated list of values on the Worx Printing website, inspired by Spain’s Mondragon Co-ops. Gotta make this stuff sexy!

Inter-Cooperation
Just as workers benefit from working cooperatively in a business, so too can co-ops benefit from working cooperatively with other co-ops. Such an interdependent system of co-ops allows each co-op to create and share common resources such as financing, research and development, and training, to support each other through cross-training, job placement, and capital infusions during down-turns and up-turns in local and global markets.

(And while I’m here, may I recommend Brick City Stickers if you’re looking for a Union shop to replace the wretched Sticker Mule? I also use—and love—Sticker Giant for my various boat-y designs.)

D: / :D (or, Motivation Two Ways)

Somewhere around 2004 I joined a teen writers’ group in Ojai run by my now-friend Deb Norton. The rules of the group were simple: those who arrived on time got a bowl of sugary cereal of their choosing, and if we hit our self-determined goals from session to session we’d get a visit to the Prize Box.

The Prize Box, as far as I recall, was just…a cardboard box. But it was full of candy, novelty Japanese erasers, custom mix CDs, and Pilot Varsity fountain pens. Goofy shit. But it worked.

As I mentioned in my last Seacritters update post, I’ve been thinking a lot about motivation in this last quarter of the book. For many years I managed my freelance schedule by drawing these little “WHERE’S THE MONEY, BELLWOOD?” diagrams in my sketchbook.

Two diagrams of Lucy looking nervous with the words "Where's the money, Bellwood?" around her head.

They amused me, and helped me track down money when it was due. But there’s something telling in the facial expressions I always chose. Juggling this many jobs was draining. In my heart of hearts, I wanted to be moving from a place of joy rather than reacting in fear. Even now, when my workload is less scattered and my financial situation less precarious, I still find myself reacting more to the threat of the stick than the promise of the carrot. How do I orient toward joy?

I’ve struggled with setting (and actually implementing) rewards. When I made a NO Punchcard at a moment when I was trying to be more protective of my time, I successfully filled out all the squares, but totally stalled out when it was time to pick a prize. The accomplishment was (kind of) its own reward. Or I just couldn’t think of anything to celebrate with.

A punch card full of the word no with a star in the corner labelled prize.

Celebration is a crucial part of motivation! It helps my animal brain acknowledge that I’ve overcome an obstacle, accomplished a goal, or moved in the direction of my values. WHY IS IT SO HARD TO THINK OF REWARDS?

This seems obvious, but I only recently thought of making myself a slightly different mind map in the ol’ sketchbook.

A diagram of Lucy looking excited that says "What's the prize, Bellwood?" She's surrounded by suggested reward activities like going to the zoo or getting ice cream.

Okay, so some of these feel a bit too close to “satisfying chores” rather than “decadent indulgences” (that handlebar tape is REALLY GROSS, THO), and picking a prize also means grappling with the ways we’re pressured to use consumption as a reward. BUT IT’S A STEP IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION.

Having a closing party for the 100 Demon Dialogues Kickstarter was such a lovely and life-affirming thing. We crammed a bunch of people into the patio of a Portland bar and had a joint countdown for the final few seconds of the campaign. I’m pretty sure I live-streamed it on Kickstarter. There was cake. There were balloons. When I think about the memory of that night in my body, I feel joy.

Lucy with a joyous crowd at her Kickstarter wrap party

The Prize Box worked because it was full of good pens and rad mix CDs, but it was also something that existed within a community. My peers would cheer when I got to visit the box. I think that was actually more important than any novelty eraser. So in the interest of involving my community a bit more in choosing a reward, I’m putting this to a vote over on Patreon.

WHAT SHOULD I REWARD MYSELF WITH WHEN I FINISH PENCILING THE BOOK?

Blogs on Blogs

I got to have an extensive chat with Manu Moreale a couple months ago for his People & Blogs series, which is a lovely project showcasing folks writing online and maintaining their own sites. It was a fun opportunity to examine my own blogging practice as a historical artifact (oh god, my first travel blog from 2007 is still online), financial expenditure (writing here costs me $35 a month?), and philosophical calling card (“From a branding perspective, it sometimes feels like a disaster. But I think that’s okay! A blog isn’t a billboard, it’s a garden. It can be a space for everything.”).

I’m also reproducing the following section in full because I do think everyone should know about these quality humans:

Time for some recommendations: any blog you think is worth checking out? And also, who do you think I should be interviewing next?

  • I have a huge creative peer crush on fellow cartoonist-with-blog Reimena Yee (Especially this sprawling portrait of her work and influences.)
  • Mandy Brown’s blog, A Working Library, makes me add books to my to-read list faster than anything else—and it’s lovely to look at
  • Reading Rob Wychert’s ongoing log of his site redesign makes me wish I knew more about building websites
  • Anna Iltnere is an absolute icon who’s been stewarding a growing library of sea-related books out of her home in Latvia for years
  • Sumana Harihareswara’s clarity and pragmatism are bracing, but also deeply human
  • Brendan Jerich is a good egg

Comics! In! Spaaaaace!

I love reading cartoonist and astronomy buff Coni Yovaniniz‘s blog posts, and this recent short comic on Pluto’s fall from planetary status was a real treat. Such charming characterizations of celestial bodies. Bonus: it’s in Spanish (Coni lives in Chile) and I actually understood it!! The whole experience made me want to grab some Spanish language graphic novels from the library and see if I can improve my reading skills while also enjoying comics.

A sample panel of Coni Yovaniniz's comic about the former planet Pluto.

AND: Coni has actually made a bunch of downloadable zines for Planetario Chile! You can find them all here. There’s zines about Asteroids, How to Fight Climate Change, and How to Watch an Eclipse. MORE CARTOONISTS IN THE WORKFORCE! MORE COMICS FOR THE PEOPLE!

Under the Hood

Turning toward Seacritters updates on Patreon again, which means taking stock of the work I’ve done so far on this gargantuan project. If a monthly pledge is beyond your means, you can now buy a standalone collection of development posts! These include behind-the-scenes character sketches, musings and mutterings about how I’ve been staying motivated on this massive project, and goofy GIFs. Here’s a selection of images to whet your nautical whistle:

Double Dipping

Sometimes I’ll jot down a word I think I haven’t heard before, only to locate it in the existing Word Hoard archive on my own website. Apparently I logged bruit (sounds like “brewie”) on this site in August of 2020, possibly in response to learning more about my dad’s many vascular conditions, but it appears again in my notes from reading Excession earlier this year! Leave it to Ian Banks to shove something like that in the description of a spaceship.

[Edit: mentioned this to Zina and I actually learned the word because she was doing her MA in 2020 to become a Physician Associate!]

“I draw the path to walk”

A page from Laura Knetzger's comic with lush black and white forests. The text reads "My friends don't come so often when I call anymore. It's my fault. They're children, and I asked them to earn me money instead of just playing."

Still thinking about this short comic on creative practice by Laura Knetzger.

Last night I sat in a cloud of campfire smoke with a friend, talking non-stop about the balancing act of creative practice. He’s a printmaker and a bookbinder, two disciplines that require a great deal of precision and craft. We agreed that we want to encourage everyone to make art, to make music, to dance, to be unrepentantly bad at things, to understand that there is art we make because we are dedicated to a craft and art we make because it’s an expression of our innate human desire to play. How it isn’t contradictory to preach the necessity of both. Sometimes I do feel like a hypocrite, cheerleading people who believe they “can’t draw” while internally upbraiding my own ability to put pictures in boxes. But these things are not exclusive.

Lately I’ve needed the energy of 2010-era Alec Longstreth, delivering this lecture at The Center for Cartoon Studies. Alec—who had, at the time, sworn not to shave or cut his hair until he finished his graphic novel, Basewood—was a human lightning bolt. He embodied that spirit of craft and professionalism, but with a punky, DIY energy that made it all feel both radical and attainable. I was so fired up after hearing him give this talk that I actually pulled all-nighters (something I was loath to do even at the tender age of 19).

A page from Alec Longstreth's zine Your Comics Will Love You Back all about setting reasonable timelines for your work by tracking progress and number of pages finished over time.

This image of his encapsulates everything I’ve come to rely on in the process of drawing Seacritters. I’m not perfect—I still occasionally underestimate the time things will take and fall prey to distraction and despair—but I’m committed to this idea.

That summer at CCS I found myself surrounded by 36 other people who wanted to take making comics seriously. I had never been in a room with people who shared that dream. It’s hard to remember what that was like now, having worked in studios full of creative professionals and lived in cities lousy with cartoonists and traveled all over the world to huge conventions and tiny festivals crammed with passionate people hawking zines and graphic novels and minis. But it felt propulsive at the time, and right now I need the creative equivalent of jet fuel.

I need the reminder that there are other people out there touching the lightning bolt for the first time, and channeling sparks into the page.

Comics & Coffee in Ojai

Event alert: I’m hosting an open studio gathering right after Christmas with fellow comics-makin’ powerhouse Shay Mirk!

A flyer for Shay and Lucy's Comics and Coffee event.

Join us on Boxing Day (Thursday, December 26th) for an all-ages drawing meetup from 11am-1pm. We’ll provide supplies (pens, paper, zine templates, staplers, and ample table space), plus delicious coffee from Pinhole Coffee, tea fixings, and home-baked treats. I’ll also have books and plush toys on hand if anyone’s flush with Christmas cash and looking to pick up some swag to take home.

Lucy sitting in a sunbeam in her studio.
(Thanks Shay for casually walking in and taking such a lovely photo of me in my new space.)

I’m so excited to bring the community into this corner of my world. Join us if you’re in the Ventura County area!