New Old Comic for your viewing pleasure!

Me again!

Settle down for story time kids- I have a tale to share!

About a year ago I was gearing up for a convention. I was working full time in the Publishers and literally spending all the hours in between trying to get a zine up and running so I could turn up with some new work. I planned and wrote a bunch of short stories and one off images, all inspired by the Autumn – my absolute favorite time of year.

Anyway, cut a long story short, the convention was cancelled a few weeks before and, as a result, without the push of a heavy deadline, life took over and I never finished the zine.

Sadly, the zine remains unfinished, however a number of the tales in it are still milling about, either in my sketchbook, desktop, or noodle. Unfinished, uncoloured and sad. Aw.

So, I dug one back out this week. I dug it out, I designed it properly and I bloomin’ finished it! (extract below!)

Toffee Apple Pt 2

It’s only short and it’s barely a story, but it’s oddly personal for me: a memory that seems relevant for every autumn I can remember from my tiddly years. The desire to be spoiled with treats on day outs in the cold air with my parents. I was, clearly, a grumpy, greedy – and potentially not that smart – kid and I remember strangely vividly the frustration of being hoisted by my own petard; when saccharine stickiness from autumn delights  stained my fingers and prevented my ice cold fingers from sinking comfortably back into the warmth of my mittens. The excitement of catching sight of that toffee apple and absolute, incomprehensible adoration for my parents when they caved (as I knew they would) and presented it to me. The irritation at their manhandling me with those old, dry tissues; dug out from the bottom of every mum’s pockets, and ultimately, the relief when my freezing cold, begrudgingly cleaned hands returned into my gloves and my foul mood, outwardly projected onto my parents, would quickly subside as warming circulation returned and I settled into the sweet tang of satisfaction.

God, being a kid is really a roller coaster of emotion isn’t it?

That said, the lesson here is that I really bloody love toffee apples. And I recall so happily that sweet tingle on the sides of my lips that I do equate so solidly with times spent with my parents. Luckily, the tenancy for childish projection of my discomfort as frustration towards them, was (I think) shed with age; but that feeling of gratitude and adoration from their original generosity…that seems a little more resilient.

I sit here in the darkened grey of a British afternoon in late September, watching the drizzle set in, as it will fairly solidly, for the next few months and I know the summer is done. And the knowledge that those short, autumn afternoons that bite at your face are sitting pretty just around the corner…well, I may not see my parents much these days, but I can’t help but sink into memories of gratitude; of that sweet tingle on the side of my lips and, ultimately, that same adoration. I smile now, just thinking it.

So, in conclusion to the longest sales pitch in history, check out the brand-spakin’-new addition of a long-overdue-old-comic on the portfolio now and then book an appointment with your dentist. After this much sweet, we’re all going to need it.

Happy Autumn!

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A Showcase in Milk Magazine and More Loving Doodles

So one of the reasons I got all loved up for valentines day (okay…the only real reason. I am dead inside it turns out.) is that the lovely folk at Milk Magazine offered me a showcase of work for valentines day. Well who am I to say no eh?

So I got out the pencils and did a little scribble or two and came up with these quick bits.

Couples Night Outvalentines nerves

To see the showcase and browse the magazine, go ahead and take a look here.

Valentines Love and Things

Well if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times. I’m not ACTUALLY dead inside. And here’s the proof.valentines_icecream

Hope you all have a nice valentines day.

No don’t be silly…of course I’m not celebrating.

Another short comic…for another speedy dealine…

It’s that time of year again when the comic competitions start building as we all start getting excited for the convention season! And with my table for Comiket well and truly booked, I’m certainly no exception. In the name of getting in the graphic mood, I’ve just finished and submitted this years entry for the Jonathan Cape/Observer graphic short story prize. This year’s tale in four pages wanders a little further into romantic territory than I’d usually care to, but I was inevitably going to have to accept the existence my estrogen levels at some point so here we are.

Page1 Page2 Page3 Page4 And before anyone asks, yes. Of course I had to stay up all night to finish it. When have I ever, EVER not had to push a project right up to the wire?

I mean, this whole illustration business just wouldn’t be fun if it didn’t result in regular stints of self abusingly painful sleep deprivation now would it?

Why Words Will Never Be Enough

The art of language (and I might be biased here, but specifically the English Language) is utterly incredible.

We have perpetual potential at the end of our tongues to convey and share limitless emotion, information, opinions and experiences. It’s a wonderful gift, to have access to innumerable possibilities of communication that, with the sheer number of words and careful choice grammatical order, can convey from one human being to another, just about anything.

But we, as human beings are greedy creatures. And sometimes I feel that, despite the incredible number or words in my aresnal of communicative choice (and even the vast linguistic toolbox that is outside of my knowledge ) there couldn’t possibly be one that would ever communicate effectively the strength of feelings in certain situations. For the extent of some things, there are simply no words.

jennyNo words to accurately convey how much we love someone, the pure injustice that they, of all people, have had to suffer, the pain of their early departure from us and the sheer size of the hole the loss of their presence has formed.

No combination of words could ever accurately explain the true uniqueness of someone. The amount they made me laugh and, above all, how very, truly, incomprehensibly lucky I am to have had them for the time I did.

It is easy, when something has been taken from you, to feel a level of injustice at what you’ve lost. But I would just like to attempt, even with my lack of words to explain fully, how grateful I am to have experienced and known someone so wonderful. Especially when it turns out that their time was so much shorter than expected.

In a world without our girl, so many have never had the chance to know and love her. I am truly blessed and honored to not find myself in that category.

And I wish I could explain the extent to which I mean that, but sometimes there are just no words.

My Beautiful friend, we miss you and love you. But I could never convey how much.

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