Fresh Resolve

Picking one project is like plucking a leaf from a tree. Beautiful to study and admire, but only one small piece of the branching canopy.

Just a couple weeks past the holiday season, I also remember the ghosts of A Christmas Carol, how my creative projects take turns speaking to me of the many scenes from past, present, and future -- revealing visions that hold potential to shift one's entire mindset, everyday life, and take a heart stance that wells with personal joy while enriching the community.

Each project can be traced to an earlier beginning, and extrapolated into several possible futures, depending on the circumstances or new resources or extent of my imagination, shaped by limitations and opportunities, delayed/enacted by the very will of God... because while I have come to a vaster appreciation of what is possible to pull into existence with the simplest handful of materials and a few kind requests, I have also been faced with obstacles that can't be overcome alone. With no obvious answers or clear path ahead, I must persevere under the circumstances as they are, today. Struggling to hold back from responding with the confident hope of what may someday be. Seeing a picture of the world in which I want to live, but isn't possible quite yet... so I return to the question: What actually is? How can I appreciate the now? Where is that next inching little step?

And every once in a while, like in the dawning of a new year, I allow myself to ask it bigger: What do I ideally want to come true, the best of all worlds? Whether believably within arm's reach, or a seemingly impossible stretch? Most of my energy is spent on scaling smaller, and that's an important part of the mix either way, but what DOES it look like for things to expand and perhaps to grow beyond all expectation?

Overall, a life in which I can do ALL the things, and decide by the day, not beholden to the ties of tangled problems and forced expectations. Working through the backlog of raw materials and pent-up ideas to shape them into the delightful treasures I always imagined making, and inherently sharing, with those who seek artistic inspiration and encouragement.

Let's look at a branch now...

Live Sketching: What most know me for, especially now, is how I will show up and draw. Already passionate about in-person events that feature insights into art-making and book talks, the thrill of live music and theater, I respond by sketching as it happens. Like a dancer to music, my pencils glide over the page. Wearing a holster of markers, I can sit, stand, or slide into corners and summon a picture within seconds. With longer, it layers in phrases, colors, doodles, quotes, feelings, settings, glorious insights, or "what is the funniest thing they said?" and even in the cacophony is a joyful sense that something one-of-a-kind has been made, while made in honor and appreciation of the original presentation. Similarly, my love for figure drawing sessions, practicing craft while socializing and supporting a local business and fellow creatives - a win on every level. The materials seem minimal, but they do cost, meanwhile I don't have a proper income while all my job(s) bounce around or dry up. Free or bartered entry, unless I cave to uncomfortably spurge while rent remains pending. That time wrapped in the moment is all I can pretend to afford, making should-be public postings an after-thought dreamed of and half forgotten. So when people invariably ask me "what happens to them now?" I'm left in a limbo of uncertainty.

Sometimes I have the chance to frame and exhibit spontaneously when a fitting art show arises, or present them intentionally when the time comes, but my deepest longing is to carry them several steps further & right away. To post, scan, update, email and share, shout out about the wonders there. After the immediacy of that first day, while music still echoes in my mind, to take a second day for reflection. Bring the results into my art studio, and explore continuations. New illustrations, spinning a first impression into a book of poetry, or a bold poster featuring the band. That too is how I hope to expand. Propose collaborations that I can deliver on regardless of cost, to elevate the amazing artists beside me. Delve beneath the surface into what they're truly about. To support making their dreams come true too.

Except today, I can't afford my own. So it waits for "tomorrow."

Sometimes I do give and sell the pictures sooner, going with the flow and maybe needing to let go, but then they are gone. Sometimes I continue to cling on to those dreams that may never be realized and gradually fade. Rather than the artwork sitting in piles and folders, many are now filling designated portfolios (so at least they can be viewed during Open Studios), With a few days and some dollars, I could start collecting them into digital and printed books for everyone to enjoy. Along with the images themselves, there are stories. The stories of why and how they exist, techniques tried, what fictional places and practical possibilities were imagined, calling out who and where can be thanked for them coming together. Sometimes at an insider talk, my doodle remains the only cryptic clue, key to unlocking a personal anecdote or punch line of a joke... that I could have captured while fresh, but if left lingering, may become lost to time. That's why I want to pitch it soon too. As a documentary reportage, artsy display statement, or coffee table book. I never had a novel or comic ready enough to win over a publisher, knowing well all the preparation and expectation that goes in, but I realize now that whether or not I complete my comics themselves, the collection that DOES exist currently is over a decade of drawing those speakers at comic cons. From all this hobnobbing, I even know a few potential prospects by name. This could be the year, only another step...

I haven't told you about how it started, you know. Would you believe I was obsessively perfectionistic in my approach to drawing, before training myself "out of it" and letting experimentation run free? (That's not totally true either, but we'd have to go into further detail to resolve the matter.) Did you notice other branches - my novels and comics? Just last night, I was in a conversation with fellow artists, expressing the same sentiment about my superheroes. The joys, the crushed dreams, the innovations, living in today while longing to thrive tomorrow. Recognizing unexpected wins caused by adversity, squeezing out the only art I can, heartbroken for all the "almost" moments that haunt me, but can always be renewed again.

For now, we're going to have to ignore a bunch of the other branches like crazy crafting from my rooms of clutter, street photography, an ongoing affair with poetry, fashion designs in my head, zines and coloring pages. Along with the organizing strategies, that become their own special project, like my decade-spanning website trying its best to encompass everything. Many further explanations can be found in its pages and other essays, published or half-written drafts here on Vocal that will emerge someday.

Because this, the Vocal writing, needs to take center stage for a moment. Sure, it has an aspect of kissing up to win a prize, but weren't we explicitly told the ones featuring Vocal.media get special treatment? That's literally my strategy for getting more writing done throughout the year, tricking myself with hypothetical incentives and the pressure of optional deadlines, keeping myself in a playful headspace when life gets tough, knowing that anything I put on pause for a short while can be easily returned to instead of completely given up on. I've said it elsewhere in these prompted topics, and it inevitably comes up in every creative conversation, that Vocal IS my lifeline to these ongoing projects. So many are so much bigger than I can lift today, but I can reasonably do a story scene about a capsized boat (pulled from the childhood backstory of an important character in what was supposed to become a comic book), make doodles for it afterwards, realize they could be presented as HIS and the concept vastly improved, and print that as "a book" for the kids comic con after all.

Whether it's making the artwork, or leaning into my penchant for writing about the very process of developing it, Vocal has become the outlet. Practicing, pitching, explaining and elaborating, dreaming of possibilities. As I write, they are at least acknowledged, thereby can begin or breathe new life, taking on fresh resolve, and continue to come true.