End of February, End of Challenge
Here's the scoop. I started February with a promise to myself that I'd make a post every day for the month. Now I'm done and what's to do?
Background
The once-vibrant livejournal community that brought me up and gave me friends and commentary and kept old friends closer than they'd be otherwise is tuckering out. Probably there are all sorts of reasons for this like most of my friends have gotten older; we're not all in college now, so there's less time to regularly post. Once you stop posting regularly, then every post has to start with an apology for the time between posts and a recap of any major events and pretty soon it just gets easier not to say anything. I'm part of the problem for all those reasons and some comics-related baggage.
Purpose
I thought if I started posting again it might help. I thought posts would bring comments and readers, and just like the old days where a community got built even on the most long-winded entries about the most mundane and commonplace events, maybe this trick could be repeated. Maybe it wouldn't inspire anyone to post or read or friend me, but it would at least keep the lights on in the building. Maybe it's not necessary now since there's so many other non-corporate ways to blog and find like-minded people, but I do love the friends page, and I do have some nostalgia for the old days. Is it silly to feel like you owe something to a bunch of html just because you added to it almost every day for 4 or 5 years.
Results
Some caricatures. Some terrible t-shirt ideas. Cereal innovations. New names for Kanye's old friends. Anne of Galactic Gables. Space Yuppies. Illegible Journal Comics. Why Bother? Radical Boy.
I drew most of these things on my lunch break. On the weekends, I just gave mundane accounts of our activities around the apartment. I don't do any stat tracking, so I have to depend on number and quality of comments to determine what goes over well and what doesn't.
Conclusions
Livejournal users still exist and the platform is still viable for putting work someplace. Because I drew many of these on my lunchbreak, I was forced to be productive in a way I hadn't been for a while: productive for an audience. Even though I've made it a point to draw a few hours every day since the middle of December or so, this was the first concerted effort to show some of that work around. I was also under a self-imposed deadline, so the quality of the work wasn't always what I wished, but work came out of me and a lot of it was better than I could have planned in advance. In time the bruises of most of the little mistakes will fade and the good work will leave the same dull glow of pride as the great work that I'm proud of already.
For months I'd been trying to force myself to develop a series or a niche where I could locate a more longform showcase for my work. Something with security to build on again. I'm not saying I found that exactly, but by doodling around. I saw some possible paths for future development, not by careful meditation, but by performing it in front of an audience. Take the illegible journal comics: not the most popular thing I've done, but I felt like there was something there and I kept kicking it and kicking it until something bigger and more interesting came out that completely justified (to me) its less successful predecessors.
Even on the most creatively exhausted day, when I can't work up a full comic, I can usually punch out a fair-to-middling silly idea for a t-shirt. Some mornings I got up early to doodle and write before dawn, and I think that helped.
In conclusion, I didn't re-invent livejournal or myself, but I did re-assert myself and re-learn a few dozen lessons I forget each time I don't post anything for a while. John keeps saying I should write those things down, but I've probably forgotten them until next time. I also don't know what comes next. I'll post tomorrow at least out of habit, but what about Monday? Maybe a new challenge?
More tomorrow, we've got to get caught up on BSG.
Background
The once-vibrant livejournal community that brought me up and gave me friends and commentary and kept old friends closer than they'd be otherwise is tuckering out. Probably there are all sorts of reasons for this like most of my friends have gotten older; we're not all in college now, so there's less time to regularly post. Once you stop posting regularly, then every post has to start with an apology for the time between posts and a recap of any major events and pretty soon it just gets easier not to say anything. I'm part of the problem for all those reasons and some comics-related baggage.
Purpose
I thought if I started posting again it might help. I thought posts would bring comments and readers, and just like the old days where a community got built even on the most long-winded entries about the most mundane and commonplace events, maybe this trick could be repeated. Maybe it wouldn't inspire anyone to post or read or friend me, but it would at least keep the lights on in the building. Maybe it's not necessary now since there's so many other non-corporate ways to blog and find like-minded people, but I do love the friends page, and I do have some nostalgia for the old days. Is it silly to feel like you owe something to a bunch of html just because you added to it almost every day for 4 or 5 years.
Results
Some caricatures. Some terrible t-shirt ideas. Cereal innovations. New names for Kanye's old friends. Anne of Galactic Gables. Space Yuppies. Illegible Journal Comics. Why Bother? Radical Boy.
I drew most of these things on my lunch break. On the weekends, I just gave mundane accounts of our activities around the apartment. I don't do any stat tracking, so I have to depend on number and quality of comments to determine what goes over well and what doesn't.
Conclusions
Livejournal users still exist and the platform is still viable for putting work someplace. Because I drew many of these on my lunchbreak, I was forced to be productive in a way I hadn't been for a while: productive for an audience. Even though I've made it a point to draw a few hours every day since the middle of December or so, this was the first concerted effort to show some of that work around. I was also under a self-imposed deadline, so the quality of the work wasn't always what I wished, but work came out of me and a lot of it was better than I could have planned in advance. In time the bruises of most of the little mistakes will fade and the good work will leave the same dull glow of pride as the great work that I'm proud of already.
For months I'd been trying to force myself to develop a series or a niche where I could locate a more longform showcase for my work. Something with security to build on again. I'm not saying I found that exactly, but by doodling around. I saw some possible paths for future development, not by careful meditation, but by performing it in front of an audience. Take the illegible journal comics: not the most popular thing I've done, but I felt like there was something there and I kept kicking it and kicking it until something bigger and more interesting came out that completely justified (to me) its less successful predecessors.
Even on the most creatively exhausted day, when I can't work up a full comic, I can usually punch out a fair-to-middling silly idea for a t-shirt. Some mornings I got up early to doodle and write before dawn, and I think that helped.
In conclusion, I didn't re-invent livejournal or myself, but I did re-assert myself and re-learn a few dozen lessons I forget each time I don't post anything for a while. John keeps saying I should write those things down, but I've probably forgotten them until next time. I also don't know what comes next. I'll post tomorrow at least out of habit, but what about Monday? Maybe a new challenge?
More tomorrow, we've got to get caught up on BSG.