About ten months ago, I sat down and created “Starman,” my five-page memoir comic about David Bowie’s death.
I was so proud of myself, having created a piece that captured my emotional state at the time, and made my cohort feel as well. It was the first comics piece I had done in ages, and kickstarted my fevered cartooning, which has been the center of my life since.
In those ten months, I’ve grown as a creator. My craft has improved. My layouts and compositions are stronger. I’ve largely switched to lettering digitally, which makes my work look more professional. And I’m now re-aligning my mentality from making things fast and dirty to being more considerate and thinking how I’m presenting my work.
Back to “Starman.”
Part of my idea with the comic is that it would be a chapter in a larger collection, tentatively called ‘Concert Hall Communion,’ about my relationship with music-in-place-of-religion.
I want to include “Starman” in this. It’s fine in its current state. But in a collection with improved everything? It will stand out, and not in a good way.
So I’m planning to redraw it this summer. Recycle a rejected pitch – “David Bowie is my gender identity” – and pull together a small zine for SPX. Focus on making it as beautiful as I know it can be.
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