Question 4

4) Tell us the 3 best pieces of advice you've ever gotten.

The most memorable advice I ever got was from a stranger, an art professor I encountered on a flight from Newark to SFO, after I got my heart broken in New York City (it could have never worked). This conversation became inspiration for a very short 24 hour comic. As far as it being good advice, I suspect it is, but have yet to take any of it (now all my former excuses sound very lame).



1) Take an anatomy class where you have to dissect a cadaver.

He could tell from my figure drawings that I had a sketchy knowledge of the finer points of human anatomy, and an advanced class would be just the ticket to clear that up. One of the things that attracted me to illustration was the discipline of combining research with art, and conversely, its fascinating how a drawing can expose what the artist doesn't know. Drawing can be so vulnerable, its something that is visible, that people can judge.

2) Spend more than 20 minutes on a drawing.

I came from the TV generation, and 20 minutes can be an eternity. Perseverance has always been a challenge for me, something I struggled with since I was very young. I have found as I get older, that it is easier to get involved in the subtleties of a project. Its easy to glance at something, and be complacent about one's understanding of it whereas its much harder to set that laziness aside and look, and so much more rewarding. I have found that the more I look, the more I see. At the figure drawing sessions I attend, the longest pose is 20 minutes, if I wanted something longer, I'd have to hire a model myself. I am sure it would be worth it.



3) Whatever he did to you, its not worth crying over.

Tears come easily to me. I am a woman, I have my hormones and my perpetually broken heart. I appreciated this advice because he was gently pointing out that there is so much more going on for me to attend to.

The thing that was amazing about this conversation, was that in a relatively short amount of time he was able encourage me and point out my strengths, and at the same time, give me carefully considered, constructive advice for improving my weakness, all without being patronizing or condescending. He was a blessing, and he certainly made the trip worth taking.

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Favorite Things

picture from Clutch

Things I loved about the Alternative Press Expo in no particular order:

Clutch McBastard was my neighbor. I have to highlight and put a few happy faces around this entry. When I was but a wee lass of 28, I went to my first zine fest with Weird Mike (the Wobbly) and this man not only smiled and said "hello," he also, upon hearing I was from Flip Flop, got up from behind his table and introduced me to all the other Floppers at the show. His upbeat attitude and genuine smile have since made every other zine-comic convention I have ever attended a joy. Plus, he always gives me cool zines.

Shannon O'Leary gave me about ten hugs. For reals. And she screamed when she saw me, like I was a rock star.



John and his new issue of Painkillers. What is better than drawings of bald men? Drawings by bald men! Especially if the man in question is a good artist.


Clutch's photo of H wearing her shirt from Only In Cambodia

The H graciously shared a table with me this year. Her rubber beetles were a hit, just about every table visitor had to pet them. (ew, gross!) She not only let me take pictures of, um, expansive derrieres (you are going to put them on flickr, aren't you?) with her digital camera, she also was a mellow and low-key table-mate.

The Son of the Steppes. If one finds oneself incapacitated at a party, and too retarded to figure out how to call a cab, one prays that one will run into a good Kosak. Such was my luck Friday night at the

Last Gasp party. I arrived too late to partake of the food (see the above entry), but just in time to finish the Chardonnay. The place has an amazing selection of WWI propaganda art, circus freak show signs and fun-house mirrors, in addition to a whole warehouse full of books and cartoonists.



XIP One of the XIP principals, Robert Syrett, is one of my favorite art-store clerks. I made the mistake of wrongly guessing the make of the beautiful all cotton paper covers he had on his zines. Don't try to argue over art paper makes with an art store clerk! He graciously forgave me my ignorance. I still have one of his fantastic drawings hanging over my bed.

Buttons Everyone loves Too Much Coffee Man and it was great rubbing shoulders with Shannon himself, but the surprise treat was buying custom buttons from his sons. I was the crazy lady who kept coming by. I bought two originals, and designed two more. I wonder if the Knee Biter would like to run a button machine at my table next year?

The Lower Haight I am familiar with the Upper, but this was the first time I had spent much time eating my way through the LH. Hanging out during the evenings/mornings with the H and one of the Js was a gastronomic delight. We had great coffee, Indian and Thai. I even found parking. I fell in love with the City all over again.

Fat Camille Goes Kickboxing

The title is self-explanatory. Another masterpiece liberated by the clean drafting table. This one was started in Bear Town, while I was waiting for El Cab to finish some work.

Eleven didn't actually loan me a bra, but she did loan me a pair of padded bicycle shorts once. The appropriate nudity in the story has been censored, just in case, um, family members are enjoying this.

Fat Camille Goes Shopping

I just finished this last night, on my newly cleaned drafting table. I started it one afternoon, drinking coffee in Cafe Perg with El Cab. He was busy writing theology, so I bummed some notebook paper off him. It was a rare day when the cafe was staffed by quiet baristas, so I wasn't distracted by anything.