Read at The New Yorker:
Read at The New Yorker:
Wacom generously sent me an advance copy of the new Cintiq Pro 24" and it's a hell of a machine. Easily the most impressive piece of tech I've used yet. Unboxing and quick review in video below. I'll be doing a live demo of the product this Friday night in New York when it's out.
Before I left for Louisiana last Christmas, the Cartoon Editor of the New Yorker had recommended that if I were in New Orleans, I should make the trip out to Audubon Park and the nearby bookstore, Octavia Books. Sophie and I made a day of it, both snagging armfuls of weighty tomes and scuttling off to Audubon with a clandestine bottle of Chablis.
The first of my haul was John McPhee’s latest book on his vast experience as a writer, entitled Draft №4: On The Writing Process.
I was hooked from the very first word and was lamenting the inexorable conclusion awaiting me in the footnotes. I really couldn’t recommend this book highly enough. I often forget that writers aren’t just people who ‘can write’, but are people for whom writing is hard. They constantly strive for better than their last sentence.
But, to the title of this note;
A passage in the book struck me, not only due to its typical McPhee-isms — (details that were chosen very purposefully to illuminate the readers mind without saturating it. ie. leaving out the right bits.) — but because I’m the author and artist behind a legacy comic strip which has seen 5 separate artist/writers over 97 years.
The quote reads:
When I was quite young, I was inadvertently armored for a future with Roger Straus. My grandfather was a publisher. My uncle was a publisher. The house was the John C. Winston Company, “Book and Bible Publishers,” of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and on their list was the Silver Chief series, about a sled dog in the frozen north. That dog was my boyhood hero.
One day, I was saddened to see in a newspaper that Jack O’Brien, the author of those books, had died. A couple of years passed. I went into high school. The publishing company became Holt, Rinehart & Winston, and my uncle Bob’s office moved to New York. When I was visiting him there one day, a man arrived for an appointment, and Uncle Bob said, “John, meet Jack O’Brien, the author of Silver Chief.” I shook the author’s hand, which wasn’t very cold. After he had gone, I said, “Uncle Bob, I thought Jack O’Brien died.”
Uncle Bob said, “He did die. He died. Actually, we’ve had three or four Jack O’Briens. Let me tell you something, John. Authors are a dime a dozen. The dog is immortal.”
What a brilliant, concise way of summing up such a stark truth.
In my case, perhaps, cartoonists are a dime a dozen. The kid is immortal.
This year’s Academy Awards are going to be one of the most interesting to watch. I think that’s a massive understatement.
Considering the Oprah speech at the Globes and the wildly debated #MeToo and #TimesUp movement statements at the awards ceremonies this past year, I think we’re in for a doozie. And a particularly fun one to draw.
I’ll be live streaming on Facebook Live, Periscope and Instagram. No doubt one or two of them will collapse and go dark when my router shits itself from the traffic, but I’ll be setting up my Samsung Galaxy S5 mini, My iPad Pro and my Pixel to be streaming my drawing board to the world in time with the live CBS broadcast.
Note: I will not be using YouTube this year as the stream crippled my internet, and nobody tuned in on YouTube anyway because they were watching the live broadcast on it.
I’ve watched all of the Best Picture nominees (thanks, Moviepass) except for the one with the peach and the one with Sally Hawkins flicking the bean.
It’s usually a long night. There will be much scribbling, and much scotch drunk. drank?
You can tune in or out at any time to see where I’m at. You’re welcome to screenshot and post to your own social if you see something you like.
I will begin broadcasting on Sunday, March 4, 2018. The show will now begin at 8:00 p.m. EST/5:00 p.m. PST, a half-hour earlier than prior telecasts.
Anyway, for those of you wanting to do the same, or just interested in how I’m doing it, here’s my setup. This is from last year, so ignore the part about YouTube.
You can see my social accounts to follow below.
When I first moved to New York I lived in Inwood. There’s a 20-minute block of time between 125th street and Columbus Circle on the A-train where I used to meditate to pass the time. I came out of the meditation drooling more than once. It was the A train. I fit right in.
I've been meditating since 2013, which is nearly 5 years now. It's changed a lot of my brain wiring. Sure, it means sometimes I'm that annoying guy talking about meditation, but I'll cop that.
I wrote about it back in 2014. I'm sure there's more I could write about it now, but for the moment, here it is:
Okay, even I admit this is a terrible pun. But I couldn't not draw it.