Disillusioned by the state of comics and wearing blinders that centered my vision on the appalling works that littered the industry, I left the four colored world bitter and distant.
I'm back to business now. I've grown tired looking at the accepted efforts of industries and the people who populate them. Drawing has been a part of my life since I was a child (no trite crayon analogies here, folks!) and I'll be damned if I'm going to give up because there are forces beyond me that oppose drives such as mine.
Drawing, like writing, is an expression of one's thoughts and ideas through a medium of communication. I don't know of many folk who criticize, or feel self conscious about, handwriting. Why should one's ability to render their mind's fancies be weighed down with inspiration smothering critique and self doubt?
There's a bundle of stories, twine-tied together, sitting on an aged desk in my mind. I'm familiar with all of them, and I've been leafing through their pages for years. Time to get the lead, or graphite at least, out and get some India Ink under my finger nails!!
Here are the latest scribblings.
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