http://www.nytimes.com/2006/12/03/books/review/Hajdu.t.html?_r=2&n=Top%2fFeatures%2fBooks%2fBook%20Reviews&oref=slogin&oref=slogin
Woo hoo! It worked! Article in the NYT about graphic novels as serious literature. This one even managed not to be terribly condescending.
I mean, I *know* I'm a lot closer to the Sweet Potato Queen than Thomas Pynchon in the 'artistic voice' sweepstakes. At least, maybe. If the Sweet Potato Queen woke up in a tangle of sweaty sheets with a fresh bruise, a chain of hickeys and a hangover so bad she couldn't hold the match to her Marlboro.
Thing is, after a whole work-weekend of, "Tattoos are, like, art now," and a work-week of "Comics aren't just men in their underwear throwing cars anymore. Well, not entirely," I'm getting a little tired of the pats on the damn head.
No one to blame but myself, I suppose. I could have gone on to grad school and then professor-ship, all the while sucking at the public teat to fund my 'work'. But I made a conscious choice to make a living from my art instead.
And every time I go to a museum or gallery to see the latest batch of trash bags thrown over coat hangers or mason jars full of feces or whatever, I do a little happy dance.
Oh, and last weekend I did an Indian I was pretty happy with. The guy came back and I got a happy snap without all the blood in...
Also did a mess of drawing and some work on some how-to stuff, but I still have to plug in my scanner and shout curses at it for 45 minutes before I can post any of that.
Get right on that, shall I?
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