Last week’s episode was dedicated to the grueling years of my corp day job. This week’s is dedicated to all of you gorgeous people with whom I’ve shared Bonesick (AND to those ravishing newcomers with whom I will share after today’s publish).
On with it!
The creative struggle in three acts:
Act one.
Artists crave to share their work with anyone and everyone willing to glimpse, and yet despair to share with anyone and everyone willing to have an opinion about said glimpse. Creative birth is straight up stark-naked, raw vulnerability. If you’ve had to reveal any sort of creative piece of yourself to the world — even if it’s a relatively dry report for your boss — you know the feeling. “Here, look what I made.” And wince through the followup.
Act two.
It’s not always that way, of course. Once you show-and-tell enough times, you generate a thicker skin. And you also get better by way of constructive criticism. And if you’re really good at what you do, and the feedback is almost always positive, you might even relish in the thrill of strutting around completely nude. That is until one little remark shatters your ego and you find yourself scrambling for a makeshift fig leaf.
Act three.
As it turns out, the act of creativity isn’t just for the artist, but for the audience too. Once that piece of music, that indie film, that drawing of your dog, even that report for your boss is out there in the world, it has to connect with someone else. That’s what art is. Your hand outstretched like the puzzle piece knob aching to interlock with the vulnerable cavity of another piece. So unless you’re willing to reach out to an abyss of nothingness, you learn that to lean into healthy constructive criticism will only allow for more receptive hands, eager to grab onto your work.
Even if you really love walnuts, and they might not exactly love them.
Entering Phase 2: Patience.
Within my radius, I’ve got some blessed creative folks in all sorts of artistic fields. Opinions and perspectives that matter to me. And I don’t know when this little project of mine is baked enough to garner the Goldilocks feedback of — oh I don’t know — somewhere between “great, keep it up!” and “this is good because of X, Y, Z, and I could totally see you pushing Y, so yeah great, keep it up!”
Right now I feel like I’m serving you the half-baked version of Bonesick where the dough is still soft and gooey and maybe poisonous. You can try it, but may god have mercy on both our souls.
At some point, I need to shift into the deeper phase where a Big Reveal warrants challenging feedback like: “This part’s good, but you’re probably going to tweak this, and maybe even start from scratch here, here, and here.”
I know I’ll get there. It’s just … how long is the baking time?
To answer that question, I’ve gotta shift into the phase where I actually move the plot along a trajectory to reveal what this whole thing’s really about.
I can envision this entire story and the execution in my head, and it’s far too much to infuse into a six panel comic about a melancholy skeleton baking metaphorical cookies. But the soul is there when you take a hot minute to gaze at the details. Like how the timer’s minute-hand approaches “0” and the cookies deflate into flat discs. And it’s also hidden in the spots you can’t see like where I had to swap the salt and pepper shakers with the timer and do away with the kitschy “Is it HOT in here or is it me?” sign in order to make the appropriate room for the “DING!” in the final panel. In other words, I care about the details enough to get this thing right.
And that takes time.
Next up, the deeper dive
I’ve got an idea in the hopper based on this past episode’s drawing. And that one would lead to another juicy bit. I’m nearing the end of my side-hustle season so I’m beginning to feel more comfy with dedication to this side-side-hustle illustrative corner of mine. Next episode may be awhile. I want it to bust out of all the boundaries in all the literal and figurative ways you can imagine. Thank you for staying tuned…
Because at the end of the day, YOU, my dear reader and lurker, YOU are the accountability buddy I actually need in my corner. Even if you’re a silent partner in this arrangement, there’s a huge difference between making a batch of delicious cookies for me and making a batch of mediocre cookies for a bunch of us nuts. That E. coli-laced raw dough might do us in, but at least we all go down together.
Thinking of feedback and showing things to world when you’d like me to share bonesick to my not unsubstantial network of comic makers and fans just let me know.
You write so beautifully!
"Your hand outstretched like the puzzle piece knob aching to interlock with the vulnerable cavity of another piece."