Old stuff is better

Media today is pretty lousy.

An unfair generalization, of course, but I won't budge on it.

Let's take movies; it's been along time since I've felt exhilerated watching a film. Recent films seem to be cookie-cutter productions dictated by marketing strategy, rather than attempts at telling a poignant story or delivering a unique personal vision. Movies used to be events, pure escapism; now they're just fodder for dvds, to be released and rereleased to 'collectors'.

Music? Radio is in a state of complete disarray; artists focus on reworking or sampling good tunes from yesterday, rather than attempting to produce a track that stands out from the commercial pap directed at teen-agers and their ipods.

I feel books is a bright light in this gloomy scenario; entertaining tomes continue to be published, and encouarging folk to read should be paramount.

Of course, my perspective is biased. I believe that the 60s and 70s delivered music that can never be touched (the 80s were not too shabby as well); the 70s and 80s produced wonderful movies that can be watched over and over.

In other words, I look fondly on 'old' stuff, and consider 'new' stuff crap. I guess I've become a stereotypical 'old fart' after all!

Aches and pains

One cliched (can't figure how to do an accented e with my keyboard) complaint of getting older is aches and pains. Professional football players usually retire well shy of their fourth decade on account of the wear and tear caused by their profession.

I personally wish I was pain free. My spine is unkind, keeps me from being all I can be.

Pain does force me to be grateful for little things, and I tend to appreciate 'good days'. I've been in discomfort so long, I'd probably feel wrong if I suddenly felt 'right'. On my to-do list for the next year is to get a serious check-up, although the prospect of that particular chore bothers me very much. Ignorance is bliss, as they say.

One day at a time has always been my mantra, and will continue to be so. I'm fortunate to have a wonderful, supportive wife, and two wonderful kids who often help me forget the aches and pains.

When I grow up...

I want to be... hmph.

I've always struggled with that particular question. As an adolescent, I liked books and drawing. I dreamt of becoming the next George Perez, and even did a wonky Teen Titans comic book on lined foolscap.

I started in retail quite young, and didn't mind the routine; customers interrupting my watching of the Price is Right (on a badly hidden, tiny black and white television) I did mind. High school, my first stint at college, and University offered no answers; I realized that I was ok at Math, hated Geography and History, and skipped way too many classes hunting down used cds at Cheap Thrills, or playing cards.

Working at Felix and Norton as a young adult was at first alot of fun; ultimately, I ascended to assistant manager, until my eventual burn out (and burned bridges) lead me to seek my fortunes away from the cookie-buying public. Answering phones next was boring, but at least I met my best friend and the love of my life in that gloomy office.

I eventually decided to return to my artistic roots.

To be continued...

Rainy Fall morning

One thing that my recent birthday shenanigans has reminded me of is how many people I've met in my four decades of life. It's heart-warming to realize that folk care enough to celebrate my special day, but I also find myself wondering about the lives of old aquaintances.

I will always treasure the memories and people I have encountered in my voyage through the tossling waves of my life.

On a related note, I'm a bit surprised by the number of 'friends' I have on Facebook; truth be told, the number of people I consider a friend is an extremely small number. Defining exactly what a 'friend' entails is a difficult and challenging proposition.

Countdown over

I wondered how I'd feel when this day would arrive; would it be melancholy, lamenting the passage of time, missed opportunities, paths not taken? Or perhaps excited about the propsects of launching new endeavors, using the date as an opportunity to start fresh?

In the end, I feel.... the same as yesterday.

Life is a journey, and isn't defined by numbers or a calender. My life has been a string of days, good and bad, (and uneventful), linking together to form a chain of personal history.

I'd like to think that I've grown over the past four decades, or at least become a wee bit wiser. I know that I still have growing to do, things to accomplish, and days to experience.

Hopefully, another forty years worth.

The magic of inks

Voila, inks add all of the details and give hints for the colorist.

I really had fun on this piece.

The mummy strikes

One of the projects I'm working on this week is a cover for a webcomic being developed by a friend of mine.

I thought it'd be fun to include the thumbnail version and pencilled piece, inks still to come.

Minus 3 days and counting...

I decided to rework my blog as a chance to reflect on starting a new phase of my life: hitting forty.

I'm still mulling over content and format, hopefully I'll have something figured out by Friday .