Easter and the Spring of Recovery

I celebrated Easter in a way that is befitting for a 'naturalist.' I went for a walk in the forest. My mom, the wise botanist Susan Moyle Studlar, went with me to the West Virginia Botanic Garden. We encountered rock outcrops covered in moss. And so, she was prompted to make close inspections by hand-lens, and collect specimens for the herbarium. Meanwhile, I sat upon a rock and practiced the art of wilderness contemplation.

It seems a natural fit for a celebration of rebirth and regeneration to take place near spring equinox. Indeed, Pagan religions had their own versions of Easter before Christians adapted and revised the holiday. Regardless of one's belief system, it is hard not to be amazed by the bursts of green and white and pink and blue, as the plants awaken from their winter slumber. Old life recovers, and new life begins, with a wealth of pollen in the air and bird's nests on the branches.

Spring would seem a fitting time to convalesce from illness, or to help a friend or family member in that process. Some people go to medical school in hopes of becoming healers. I am not a healer. I went to cartoon school, and profess no medical knowledge above the EMT level. And so, when my mother's sister, Virginia Pezalla, had a recurrence of leukemia, I thought that there was nothing I could do, but hope that skillful doctors could find a way to defeat the disease and bring her back to full health.

Then again, one should not underestimate the power of moral support. The condition of the brain affects that of the body in many ways not yet understood. For any serious illness, the knowledge that people care can have as much effect on the patient as any medicine. And cartoonists often give moral support with pencil and ink. Hence, I found the ambition to finish a project which I have been working on—amidst many others—since 2008. A comic book of Frog Stories—tales of hunger, desire, violence, athletics, and life-and-death drama. The life of an amphibian is as dangerous as a Secret Agent, and as unpredictable as a gas molecule. With oil pastels, I created full-color front-and-back covers. Between them, 24 black and white pages, containing four short stories, featuring argentine horned frogs, pacific chorus frogs, and a green tree frog. I dedicated the work to Aunt Ginny. It seems quite appropriate, considering Ginny's many years of teaching at Robert Morris college and introducing city folk to the wonders of nature; in addition, she has created stained-glass windows depicting frogs, one of which adorns the Studlar family sunroom.

Meanwhile, my mom gladly accepted a nomination to rescue her sister by donating stem cells. And declared that this spring break would be her best ever, should the endeavor succeed. At the hospital, I presented my comic book to Aunt Ginny, in living color. She was glad to receive it. It is but a small piece of the grand outpouring of family support Ginny has received, since this unfortunate ordeal began. We shall hope that, collectively, it can make a difference. Ginny is now at home, enjoying family, sunshine, dog walks, and some improved health. Soon, chemo will begin, followed by a stem cell infusion by her sister. We will hope for the best. And the religious among us will pray to their deities of choice. Spring is a time of revival. Life shows its resilience, and splendid colors.

Footnote: I will launch online sales of Frog Stories as soon as possible!

The two pictures of Ross solo are by ©Susan Moyle Studlar

Gullzards!

My thesis at The Center for Cartoon Studies was a science fiction graphic novel project, titled Arridaba. It featured sea turtles, and futuristic sociopolitical issues surrounding a life-prolonging drug made from their brains. Despite the intriguing premise, the story wasn't quite the masterpiece I had hoped for. Even so, I made many discoveries about my abilities as a cartoonist along the way.

During my two years of intensive comic-making at CCS, I increasingly came to know that animals and monsters are among my artistic fortes. For the scene below, I invented the Gullzards as a plot device, to knock the flying cops out of the air. Being somewhere in between ancient reptiles and modern birds, the Gullzards are quite reminiscent of Archeopteryx. I subsequently planned to create a story about the lives of these "primitive" birds, but haven't gotten around to it yet. Maybe sharing them here will provide a jump-start:

I experimented with ink-wash as "color":

Beware of the flying Gullzards!

Return of the Midgard Serpent

Recently, I have been at work reclaiming my oil pastel drawing skills. It is the medium I have chosen for the cover of my forthcoming comic book (details to be announced, SOON!). And so, I am producing a series of "warm up" drawings, to get my color muscles in better shape. One such drawing is displayed above.

I might call this “Return of the Midgard Serpent.” As my previous rendition of the big snake is popular on the web, it seems wise to bring him back.

We have all seen or heard a story where a man goes fishing, and the bobber takes a nose dive-- something bit the line. He tries to real it in, but it pulls back like the gravity of Jupiter. And then he discovers he has hooked a giant monster! Perhaps the oldest recorded use of this motif took place in Norse mythology, when Thor hooked the Midgard Serpent.

I'll plan for more appearances by the big snake. And like I said, I have a comic coming down the pike, which features not reptiles but AMPHIBIANS. Stay tuned, true believers.... !

Uniquely Comics, part three: Sudden Transformation

The comics medium is surreal by nature. Cartoon images look like the pictures we see in our memories and dreams. Still images tell the story only by demanding great assistance from our imaginations. We create the movement and sound.

And still pictures have a special power to instill themselves in our brains. They have unique potency, as frozen moments in time.

In the surreal world of comics, characters can transform from one panel to the next. Even in a realistic story with no fantastical happenings, one thing can become quite another to indicate changes in mood or perception. Similar phenomena occur in our dreams and memories.

A brilliant use of this sort of transformation took place in “Hedy Lamar” (Written by Jim Ottaviani, drawn by Carla Speed McNeil.) (Spoiler warning: I recommend that you read the story from Dignifying Science before viewing the excerpt below.)

Throughout the story, Miss Lamar is drawn relatively ordinary-looking, to de-emphasize her physical beauty and focus more on her thoughts and feelings, particularly her scientific insights. In the last panel, she “transforms” to match the classic Hollywood photos, and the perception of the gawking masses.

My next example involves a confrontation between man and dog. It is taken from "The Abyss Gazes Also", chapter VI of that timeless wonder of a graphic novel, Watchmen. (Written by Alan Moore, drawn by Dave Gibbons, colored by John Higgins). A well-worn copy of the book has accompanied me on my many cross-country moves. I have read it in its entirety three times, and have gone back to re-read selective passages countless times. Even so, I did not take specific note of the 'uniquely comics' aspect of the sequence below, until my big brother Carl pointed it out. Then again, out of 350 pages that are dense with words, pictures, emotional power, and potent philosophical ideas, it may be no surprise that I didn't pick up on this particular bit of storytelling brilliance, amidst all the others. (Again, spoiler warnings apply; I advise reading the book first.)

Vigilante anti-hero Rorschach tracks down a kidnapped girl, only to discover that his enemy has killed her and fed her to his dogs. In the first panel (out of those displayed above), the dogs seem like the epitome of evil, as they chomp on human bones (and display red eyes). In the seventh, the dogs appear like innocent pets. Unfortunately for them, Rorschach has already made his verdict, and it is death. The dogs' sudden transformation from monsters to victims would be hard to pull off in any medium but comics. I commend the creators.

Heddy Lamar page is copyrighted to Carla Speed McNeil. Watchmen pages are copyrighted to DC comics (much to the chagrin of the writer). Low resolution reproductions are used here for archival and educational purposes only.

Uniquely Comics, part two: The Page as a Whole

An unique aspect of the comics medium is its ability to portray multiple moments in time simultaneously. (Yes, Scott McCloud pointed this out before I did.) Each panel portrays an individual, frozen moment. And when the viewer reads from one panel to the next, his imagination fills in the spaces to create the story. However, before the reader focuses in on the individual panels, he first sees the page as a whole—an entire composition, in which the past, present, and future exist concurrently. (As such, the comics page shows some alignment with Albert Einstein's interpretation of time—and the way in which Dr. Manhattan experiences reality.)

I am a fan of using the entire page as a carefully-conceived, unified composition. One can do this within the standard panel grid—or go “off the grid” and create one's own unique structure and flow.

Will Eisner is a grand maestro of full-page compositions; here is one of countless examples (this one from the Femme Fatales collection from DC):

Some mind-bending page compositions occur in Saga of the Swamp Thing. Below is one from issue #34 “Rite of Spring”--sometimes referred to as "the vegetable sex story." Written by Alan Moore, drawn by Steve Bissette and John Totleben, colored by Tatjana Wood, reprinted in Saga of the Swamp Thing Book Two: Love and Death:

Gary Panter's packed full-page compositions in Jimbo's Adventures in Paradise were an influence upon me...

...when I set out to draw A Humble Joy. And I consider this guinea pig epic to have been a sort of breakthrough success for me; the art show that accompanied its release may have been my fifteen minutes of fame!

The Spirit page is copyrighted to Eisner studios; the Jimbo page is copyrighted to Gary Panter; and the Swamp-Thing pages are copyrighted to DC comics. Low-resolution reproductions are used here for archival and educational purposes only.

Back at The Homestead, Surrounded by Stories

Ross and Cabin Bob at dusk

Recently, I revisited The Homestead, for the first time since the reunion in 2007. It will always feel strange to use a computer at the Homie, but even so, in the quiet of evening, I took out my laptop and typed some reflections....

There are so many stories. In the walls, in the kitchen, by the fire circle, on the earth beneath my feet. Never before or since have I been so intimately connected to a piece of land as I was to here. Never before had I given such thought, care, sweat, and work to the development of a landscape. Now, a barrier of years has formed between me and this grand Homestead. She now wears gloves when she touches me. Even so, The Homestead is still a great friend, a love, an old home to return to.

I notice large stories and small ones. I see parts of buildings constructed by my own hands, and quotations on the walls written with my own felt-tip marker.

I see the tall sycamores and low brambles around the creek that runs before the main entrance, and recall a story. It was in the May Term of 2003, and a throng of summer Homesteaders were present. A torrential rain storm had just happened. The winds rocked the forests around us, and sent limbs crashing from trees. Entire trees fell over, in parts of town not far from us. But the walls of our cabins held strong. We waited out the storm in Cabin Bob. I watched the rain gush down the windows, and listened to the rapid drumbeat of the overflowing water tank, which caught the rain from Cabin Bob's roof.

After the storm, the sky took on that clear and empty grey look. And the warmth of the sun returned. By the fire circle, in the open spaces, my comrade Brad nearly stumbled upon a ten-limbed creature. A crayfish. Apparently the rain had prompted him to take a walk. Brad and I watched the decapod saunter; Meghan joined us as well. I thought that the crayfish would be better off in the stream. We carried him in a bucket, to the water's edge, by the tall sycamores and among the low brambles. He crawled into the water, and ducked under the surface. For a few minutes, he sat silent just beneath a thin film of water, with antennae protruding. Then he sunk deeper and disappeared. “He seemed happy about that,” Brad said.

All around me, I see all manner of things made by Homesteaders. So many success stories. The strawbale Cabin Bob, for which I so fondly recall building the mudroom. The earthship Cabin Pheonix, which was a mental project during my time at The Homestead. Homesteaders after me finally and thankfully finalized plans and brought the Pheonix to physical fruition. And I came back for the day we broke ground, and pounded part of the first tire.

Not every project undertaken by Homies has succeeded. (However, I consider them all to be educational successes, because we always learned something.) Many of the fruit trees we planted no longer stand. There is, however, a humble evergreen which DOES still stand. In front of the outhouse there is a spruce, which was our Homestead Christmas tree in 2003—a gift from the parents of Homie Marko. The tree stood proudly in Cabin Bob for the fall semester, but needed to root in the earth before all Homies went home for break. Then came the end of fall semester. I had had my long, long night of sleep. .... after multiple late nights of cramming for final tests, writing final papers, and welding a final sculpture, I finally arrived at the “sleep of the just.” The very next day, I awoke ready and raring for my favorite form of exercise—physical projects at the Homestead. Colin was up with me (not surprisingly) and so was Marko (surprisingly.) We put our shovels together and dug a nice wide hole and planted the tree. And watered it well. We went on to turn a compost pile. Not a bad set of accomplishments, for before ten in the morning! Then I joined in some quiet social time in the cabins, and set to packing for the trip home.

With my every glance about Cabin Bob, I see more stories. A window I helped to install. Bookshelves that have the mark of my hammer. The ceiling light above me. Electricity at The Homestead comes from a solar panel, which charges a set of batteries. And all lights are home-installed. I recall when my comrades Brad and Cassi had just wired in and rigged that light. Then held their breaths and flipped the switch. There was light, and a room full of Homesteaders cheered.

As I type these words, I take note of the table beneath my laptop—I believe it was built by Homesteaders in the 1980s. It is a lasting contribution. Some creations live longer than others. But even after a table's legs rot or a light no longer functions, the stories will remain. As long as there are campfires, with garrulous Homesteaders crowded about. I eagerly anticipate the 2012 reunion, for The Homestead's 35th anniversary. The stories shall abound!

Ross among present-day Homesteaders

Uniquely Comics, part one: Closure

The comic below ("Gargoyle in Flight") arose from an assignment at The Center for Cartoon Studies, a "drawing challenge": to depict a character flying from the city to the country, then going through a window. I did some ambitious drawing for this challenge, using a three-point perspective in the opening splash panel, then one-point perspective in the following two. (And the artists in my audience know that perspective images can be tedious to set up!) And then I used ink washes to cast atmospheric shades of grey over the scenes.

On page 2, I stumbled upon a technique that is unique to the comics medium. In panel one, the gargoyle's wings are up, and his surroundings include skyscrapers and car-filled streets. In panel two, his wings are down, the tall buildings are in the distance, and his setting has become more rural. Our imagination fills in for the great many wing-beats in between! A special use of "closure" (to use Scott McCloud's term.) If ever I teach a course on the comics medium, I'll include these pages.