New 52 Catwoman

In the year preceding the launch of DC's "52" facelift of it's titles, DC asked some of the Kubert School alum to submit ideas for the reboot.* My submission for a middle-aged Catwoman was roundly rejected as "Not appealing to DC's target audience of 13-60 year-old male shut-ins."

*Event occurred only in the artists head.

Mother's Day Card

Around '99 or 2000, a fellow Kubert School Alum's wife got a job as an art director for an online greeting card company. It's since gone out of business, but at my friend's encouragement I shovelled as many images as I could to them. They took some- I don't know if any sold. Above is an idea for a Mother's Day Card they accepted.

Sepia Ship

Another sample from the same batch as below. In July or August of 2000, Geoff (a fellow Kubert School Lad) and I humped a proposal for a comic series all over the San Diego ComiCon. Geoff seemed to have the ability to shrug off rejection. Not me. I memorized the names of editors, prepared voodoo dolls in candle-lit basements, polishing my bitterness into a shiny ulcer.

You're probably curious now about the story.... the artwork's certainly intriguing. Well, if the publishers used better judgement when hiring editors, you wouldn't have to wonder.

Komrade Floursack

Last month I told a bitter-sweet story about life lessons from 2 of my former teachers. I mentioned how animation-instructor Doug Compton had been my living nightmare before wiping the Maya from in front of my eyes and revealing the truths of the universe. The "living nightmare" involved weeks of repeatedly drawing flour sacks. In traditional animation (before them computers did all the work) students would learn to animate form and weight by drawing flour sacks as substitutes for humans. It was thought they most closely resembled the American physique.
None of us realized how difficult this could be. Doug had us draw pages of flour sacks, rejecting them all. He was as disgusted with us as we were with him.
Thankfully, our storyboarding class gave me a chance to vent. I boarded a sequence involving a "Ministry of Animation" where the animators wore Soviet-style uniforms, drawing flour sacks and having them rejected by their cruel Komrade Supervisor. One night while the supervisor is working alone, he is attacked by living flour sacks brandishing an exacto-knife.
My storyboard instructor told me he could hear "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" in his head during the above sequence. While it was a big hit with the rest of my comrade-workers, it didn't earn me many maturity points at the Kubert School.

An Oldie

From 96 or 97, a class assignment from the Kubert School. I think we were to pretend to be submitting ideas to the New Yorker, hence the ink wash on typing paper (note the savage buckling around the edges). New York had so many confusing and specific street signs and I wanted to use that in a cartoon. The instructor's note on the back says "I don't get it- but it seems funny- B+"

Committing to a line with Frank & Doug

Between 1995 and 1997, 2 teachers- Frank Stack and Doug Compton completely changed the way I draw. Thank God! Above is an example of the kind of obsessive scribbling I was doing as of '95 ( a friend's sheep and Frank Stack). I thought I was Feliks Topolski.

Underground Comix legend Frank Stack was teaching at the University of Missouri where I worked at the time, and he allowed me to sit in on his figure drawing classes. He would patiently talk to me about the importance of committing to a line while drawing, resisting the urge to sculpt a figure out of thousands of tiny, searching scratches. If one continues to draw using a series of timid 1/8th inch long tic-marks, the result is a fuzzy image that's probably not proportioned very well. I was fussing, not really drawing.

I hardly paid any attention to him. I was clearly a genius and besides, other students thought I "drawed real good!"

By the time I hit the Joe Kubert school in '96, I realized something had to give. I look at most of my figure drawing during that time makes me wonder what kind of rash the models had that coated them with such moss made up of tiny line segments.

By the summer of '96, I was committed to cleaning up my act. I would still search for a good line with pencil, but at least they were honest lines. I was amazed at the improvement. In 2 months, my sketchbooks looked like they belonged to another person.

In '97, I began the animation program at the Kubert School. Our instructor for in-betweening was Doug Compton. He was my living nightmare. He'd worked for Warner Bros., Ralph Bakshi, a lot of big names. He was storyboarding Pinky and the Brain at the time. He was a perfectionist and he wanted us to be too! Imagine! I spent most of my time in his class re-doing assignments and choking back tears of frustration.

A cruel caricature taken during class.

I noticed, however, that when he wasn't eviscerating someone, he was drawing. He never stopped drawing. When I had the chance, I'd pass his desk and watch in amazement as he'd lay down the richest, juiciest lines- fast. It was like the drawing was finished in his head and he was hurrying to catch up. No hesitation. When he drew, he took no prisoners! I learned from Doug what Frank was trying to teach me years earlier! Commit to a line- everyone searches for the right form and shape, but search with a strong, bold line and move on!

Two scans from my animation portfolio in '98 that got me work. Please buy Frank Stack's books available from Fantagraphics Publishers ( I think ) and visit Doug Compton at http://www.karmatoons.com/. Whenever I draw, they're both rattling around in my head!