The Shakers are my spiritual brethren, and also like them I love to work, and toiling in the zine mines has chewed my shit up, brothers, sisters, I am so tired, my feet ache to the hips, and still I am craving to put my hands to work. Like I'm in bed with the lights out, it's after midnight, my body parts are throbbing and my thoughts are warping like records in a hot car, and I'm considering writing some professional emails: reality, insanity, police brutality.

If you visited my table and I was rude to you, I'm sorry. Especially you, Noah Van Sciver, I'm sorry I said I would kill you. You seem like a nice guy.

Let's attack some official business. I'm in "Curiosity Cabinet" at Pony Club this month (I drew some moldy strawberries), "Satanic Panic" at the same gallery next month, and "Bound and Gagged" at Secret Headquarters in Los Angeles also next month. And new products are in my Etsy store. Official business is concluded.

Possibly the only thing remaining for me in this day is to look up schmaltz online until it obscures how sore I am, how lazy and inadequate, how poor and how many things I have left undone. Romantic love was invented to manipulate women. Let's do this thing.

I made an Etsy listing for illustration commissions and this was my first one, inspired by this quote from Brother Sun, Sister Moon:

"Otto of Brunswick, let the birds nest in your crown. Let the winds of heaven blow through your empty palaces. What good is your life to you, if your riches bring you no peace of mind and all your people starve?"

Also: I got nominated for an Ignatz Award for Outstanding Comic. Holy fuck!

Sir Lancelot lieth in the lone green-wood,
Sir Lancelot wrestleth in the tall grass-spears:
Fain would he think upon the Holy Rood,
And Christ's red cup, and sweet Saint Mary's tears;
But then come memories of the balmy lips
And the soft eyelids that are Guinevere's--
He dreams, and as he dreams, wild apple dips
Her brooding boughs, and flowers of milk and blood
Between his strong convulsèd heart and God.
from "Pastoral of Lancelot" by Elinor Sweetman

This passage is so perfectly euphonious it will always be tucked into my brain, no doubt cuddled among all the TV show theme songs.

My comic was reviewed by Tom Spurgeon on The Comics Reporter. Dylan and Tim both said, "If you read that guy's other reviews, that was actually a really good review." I thought so anyway. Tom said:

It's rare comic book when the demons are both terrifying and a sort of comic relief. This is a rare comic book in more ways than one.

Lately I spend a ton of time around Cameron Hawkeye, now a work friend as well as a real friend, and that guy draws constantly, like a maniac. I'm beginning to notice that my draftsmanship has gotten genuinely poor, which is scary, because if I'm not good at drawing, what am I good at? So I'm doing more observational sketches, which is good, and feeling bad about myself, which is bad, but useful too.

Every night Brodie and I work on our new books for the Zine Symposium and they are going to be so awesome.

The pronunciation of "Gfrörer" is cleverly elucidated in this short poem which was just scrawled by Brodie on an index card in purple calligraphy pen, then flung triumphantly across the couch to me:

GRUFF HAIR
GROW FAIR

My buddy Sam moved to New Orleans recently, and he says that Flesh and Bone was at the top of the recommended shelf at the first comics shop he found there.

I made separate Etsy listings for Ariadne auf Naxos volumes one and two. Some venues seem to sell out more of one book than the other, so I assume there are people out there who'd like the opportunity to complete their collections. On Friday I handed off volume three to Tim Goodyear, my publisher and guru (Sanskrit: गुरु, Kannada: ಗುರು), and started publishing previews of its contents on my Flickr page leading up to its release at the end of August, and volume four is already begun, of course.

Last week I started a new full-time job, which I love, and discovered opium poppies growing across the street from my apartment.

A friend of mine is working to overcome an anxiety disorder. She hired me to design a tattoo to honor her "hummingbird heart."


Forbidden Planet says ofFlesh and Bone: "You might think that sounds close to unreadable – but strangely it’s far from it." Read the whole review here.