*boink*

If you aren't on my new website, you're missing all the fun.

New blog post!

REDIRECT!

Hey Kiddos! I totally have a new website. My APE recap is up there, as are all these wonderful blog entries you love to re-read every day, while you snip my eyeballs out of photos of me and hum songs that mention my name.

It's here:
www.amymartincomics.com

Like Ozzy, I'll see you on the other side.
--Amy

APE Escape

God, it feels like forever since I started talking about moving. But now, it's been two months and I'm snuggled up in my tiny apartment that finally feels more cozy than tiny. Kitties are purring. It's all really a lovely fucking tableau. And according to the weather report it will finally start to get chilly this week.

THIS WEEK!
Yes! I will be wo-manning a table at San Francisco's favorite show, APE (Alternative Press Expo). You can find me at table 273B, and you will also find...
...my two brand-new books....




I hope you enjoy them as much as I have.
But, of course you will.

Come see me! I hug.

--Amy

Tomorrow Is My Turn

Everyone Must Breathe

Presenting....



A 44-page album of funnies starring three brassy, assy, cah-LASSy ladies.
It's finished and on its way to the printers tonight. Release date: Nov. 1 2008.
YES!!

..and Florride is not far behind...


***
One thing I've inherited. I am no longer able to sit still. One of the blessings, I suppose, of having spent my last five years in two relationships, both of whom with people who encouraged, praised, and when necessary GOADED me into gettin' art done. I really relied on someone (ie, a boyfriend/girlfriend) pushing me for motivation for a long time. And now, I get it. I don't need to be pushed anymore. I push myself.
I feel like I cracked a code or something.

The down side is, I literally cannot do nothing anymore. If I'm sitting on the bus, I think "I should be writing." Waiting for a friend in a bar I feel I should be drawing in my sketchbook. Lunch breaks have turned into me wolfing something while wringing out any available drawing time. I bring my materials with me everywhere. I am never content to be sitting still when I could be working.

It's a good thing, really. Kind of a curse, but a beneficial one.
Thanks M. and J.


***
Tomorrow I am off to Vegas for my birthday with my oldest, dearest friends. And that's saying something, dear friends. Per the paragraph above, I will be editing in Photoshop on the plane.


***
The VP debates are tonight and my panties are pingin'. I love this election.

Besou,
--Amy

Rarrr!

Things are fierce, people. I am suspending work on Florride for the moment in order to finish up, bust out, and devote plenty of production time to my new super secret project. But don't worry, you will still see both debut at APE in November. Once TSG goes to the printer I'll wrap up F. God, stop CRYING. I'm sorry I scared you.

Here, blow.

I think I have a plan of attack for laying out the super secret project. I've been a little bit panicking the last couple days but now things are looking fresh.

I'll be part of another group show at The Compound in October. These are a lot of fun and I'll announce reception dates here again.

I'm going to Keith Knight's class at the Cartoon Art Museum tomorrow. I can walk there. God I love living in this city.


Hey, as long as you're here, are you voting for Obama yet? I just got my new voter reg card in the mail and I can't wait to use it. You know this guy got endorsed by NOW, right? And they like, never endorse anyone? You know he's a remarkable orator, a strong role model, a unique candidate in a shitbarrel of blahblah, I assume. You know that all over Oakland, everywhere I go, I see young black men wearing his t-shirts. You know that he's energized and attracted traditionally disenfranchised people. You know his face is everywhere and it's lookin' so good.

I can't wait for the debates.

Mmm, mmm good,
--Amy

Beck again, eh?

I have really long commutes now. Which means I doodle in my sketchbook almost every day.

Books are.... ugh. Coming together, I guess. I'm inking, which is so refreshing. Pencils are grueling.
Still don't have everything down that I want to. Hittin' the GAS, people.

Say It

I am a big sap. I'll admit it, although it would get me accused of being a big ol' cheeseball by someone I formerly called my lover (and it still matters, that's how cheesy I am): I have heroes. I have more than one. Most of them are women. Most of them are women who persist in plowing through life despite incredible pain, adversity, trouble in mind and heart. Most of them are out there saying it.

On a day when I read a letter from one of my dearest friends to her abusive ex-husband, who started in with a seemingly innocent query and then moved into competely negating the fact that he shoved her, grabbed her, tried to lock her in the house, hurled at her all manner of disgusting, degrading language---a letter that says in no uncertain terms, "you abused me, you asshole"---I am inclined to add to my list.

You're my hero. You know who you are.

Do you know how long it took me to allow the word "abuse" to cross my lips in reference to my own childhood? Ten years. Ten years before I said it to a family member. Ten years before they said back to me, "wow, we must have really different interpretations."

Women. Men. All people.
If you've been abused, you know. Your gut knows. Don't ignore that. Say it. Say it out loud. Say it to anyone who'll listen.
Say it to the person who hit you. Say it to the person who violated you. Say it to the person/people who made you feel small and weak. Know that they will respond to you with lies and deception, twisting your own words, defending themselves. It is the voice of an ogre. It's not human. Please remember that.

Say it to your teachers. Say it to your friends. Say it to your grocery store clerk. Don't make it a secret. Call it what it is. If your husband screams and throws a glass across the room, tell him that his violent outbursts are unacceptable. Then go outside and tell everyone you meet. They'll tell you to leave. That's a good thing. Pack your shit and go.

Write a comic about it. An autobio (to use the hallowed industry term). Tell everyone what happened to you. There is power there.

Don't say "oh it's ok because..." If your stomach hurts, it's not ok. Period.
Don't say "it's because of me." It's not, I promise.
Don't say "oh it can't be true." Can. Is.

Say it.
Be brave.
Thank you.

And this is what we do

Do you guys like how I keep teasing you with doodles and hinting that something bigger is coming? I sure like it. I'm drawing my ass off these days. Just got a month or so to pull it together.
This is something I keep poking at in my sketchbook. Really, I'd like to do it as a photo shoot, but as I have neither photographer nor giant headdress, doodle it is. For now.

***
Thanks SO much to all who came to see my work at the Compound Gallery. The closing reception was a lot of fun. And if you missed it, have no fear; I'll be part of their October group show as well.

***
Table #273B at APE.

***
I've lived in San Francisco for three weeks now. In those weeks I have spent a lot more time on rooftops than I am accustomed to.


Later gater,
--Amy

Word Up

Gosh sakes, heartbreak is funny. You can be rolling along just fine for months, and then out of nowhere it kicks you in the balls. Criminy.

Anyway, at least I am drawing a fuck of a lot. I am getting to know my new neighborhood a bit, at least the coffeeshops-that-let-you-hang-out-and-draw-for-hours part. I wish I liked Cup-a-Joe, but I don't.

Closing reception for my show at Compound Gallery is Friday. Come out and see a bitch.

Don't Miss it! Closing Reception for:

Communication Gap

(August 16-September 8)

Friday September 5th (7-10pm)

When we communicate with other people we are often challenged in many ways. Differences in language, gender, and personal experience, all contribute to our diverse nature of understanding and ways of thinking. We express ourselves through a complex system of interaction. Body language, eye contact, touch, and smell are lost over the Internet, phones, and satellite signals-often resulting in communicative misunderstandings. With so many ways to reach people in our global environment many of us feel disconnected and isolated within this web of communication gaps. Six artists have contributed work that expresses their frustration or joy in human attempts to communicate.

ARTISTS: Angie Brown, Crystal Morey, Jake Gabel,

Nancy Bach, Patrick Renner & Amanda Jayne Kennedy

Now Showing in the Artist of the Month Gallery:

New Comics by Amy Martin

____________________________________________________________________

Also, Don't miss The First Friday Reception of Eth6 Magazine Issue 3

Contributing Artist Exhibition next door at Blankspace Gallery this Friday 7-10pm

w/ with the sweet musical stylings of Pale Hoarse & Ascended Master!

Participating Artists:

Bert Bergen, Brian Caraway, Eve Ekman, Jana Flynn, Tara Foley, Gaelan Mckeown-Hickel Richard Nyhagen,

Juliette Oken, Brion Nuda Rosch, Sham Saenz, Adam Wier, Beryl Fine, Rachel Styer, Kari Orvik, Norma Cordova

Here Comes the Autumn.

Filling up a sketchbook is a good feeling, mais non? Accomplished. That's the last page in the one that spans March through September.
What a goddamn time.

My best friend/sister-from-another-mister told me tonight she is proud of me for all I've accomplished since I moved away. I bawled like a baby.

One more thing

I would like to offer a very special FUCK YOU to the dude who called in to comment on NPR last night, the NPR moderator who validated his opinion, John McCain, and anyone else who has the goddamn nerve to want to ban abortion when, thanks to the organs they happen to possess, they will NEVER themselves be in the position of needing to have one. I invite them to stop into any library or school in Oakland and see exactly what happens when those precious wads of life are born to parents who are not joyful or delighted to have them. I invite them to see what happens when people become parents but don't have the passion required for parenting. I want them to see those miserable kids who can't even adequately express their rage at a system that fucking failed them from the beginning, that insisted they be born but never intended to provide for them. Not food. Not health care. Not education. Not love or guidance. Fuck you for wanting to require that children be born into hell.

Receptions, Recreation, Religion

Hi there.

The move across the Bay Bridge has happened, and the three a-holes* and I are busily cozying into the 300 square feet we now call "home." It's wonderful, people. I went running the other day (no mean feat as I am in one of the hilliest parts of town), and I ran up Nob Hill, down into Chinatown, then back up the Nob and up the steps of Grace Cathedral. I am smitten. Wow. I cannot fucking believe I live here. It's so beautiful I don't know how I'm not dreaming.

I may in fact be. I sleep very poorly. So I'm always tired, and how do I know?

* * * * *
Anyway, the boxes are all unpacked and I am back at the drafting table. I will have TWO new books out at APE this November. One is Florride, and I'm just now finalizing what will go in that. About half the content is finished, the other is written and doodled, with the complex drawing stages yet to go. There's a breakup comic. (Don't we love those?) Some not-so-funnies from the Ranch Clits. A new Debbie story. A Meat Loaf story. And some other things will work their way in, I'm sure. I want to have a new Parrot Cake story but the bitch is not cooperating, we'll see if I can turn her around.

The other book is a new project, and I am so excited about it I could spit. It's called The Single Girls, and it chronicles the cruel romantic adventures of some young women not unlike me and my two dear friends, in a big city not unlike San Francisco. It's gonna be pink. I know, surprise, right?

* * * * *
Thank you to everyone who attended my opening reception on August 24. You can see pictures here. There is another reception, a closer, on Friday, September 5, at The Compound. Totally come if you're in the Bay Area, and if you're not, isn't it high time you were?

* * * * *
I have been thinking about church lately. I have never been a churchgoer, but, well, I walk past a lot of churches. And from my old apartment in Oakland, I could hear the gospel choir on Thursdays and Sundays. It was lovely. Seeing the outside of a church gives me such a nice, peaceful feeling. I like to think about God and religion. I find them comforting.

I don't know why. I was raised agnostic, meaning my parents never said two words to me about religion. When I hit my teen years I had my god crisis like everyone else, but in my case this meant I started to think "hey, maybe there IS a god." I will not decide or make a declaration as to what I know to be untrue but I do know that I like the singing. I like to think about Jesus. I put a lot of angels in my comics. And a lot of whores.

Moi, je ne regrette rien,
--Amy


*cats


PS. Vote for Obama or you're a total asshole.

Lovely Reception

The opening reception for my art show is tomorrow afternoon. Sunday, August 24, 12-5. I'll be there in my pretty pink party dress and if you're VERY lucky, I'll have time to make my world famous chocolate chip cookies tonight, and if you're very VERY lucky I will share!

The Compound Gallery
6604 San Pablo Avenue in Oakland

HOW TO GET THERE: I recommend one of three ways.
1) Take BART to Ashby. You can walk from there; head west on Woolsey, which turns into 65th, all the way over to San Pablo---it's just under a mile. If your little legs are too tired for that, there's a cab stand at Ashby BART station.
2) Take BART to 19th St. Oakland. Get on the 72 bus heading north. Get off at San Pablo and 65th.
3) Take BART to Macarthur. Get on the Emery-Go-Round, the BART shopper route (it's the only one that runs on Sundays). Take it to 65th and Powell. Walk east on 65th about six blocks to San Pablo. This is the cheapest option as the Emery-Go-Round is free, although it doesn't run that often on Sundays.

See! That wasn't so bad!
Smell ya there!

Art Show and Receptions!

You GUYS.

I just got back from hanging art at The Compound and it looks FABULOUS. Major props to Matt and Lena, the Flying Reynosos, for putting together the classiest shows in the Yay Area. Seriously, every bit of art in this gallery is exciting and gorgeous and I am just tickled. I cannot fucking wait for this show to open.

Best of? The refreshment table will be next to my art.
You can just keep on filling and refilling your little plastic wine cup without having to move your feet and break the spell.

Two receptions, cause there's too much hot fabulousness in the room for just one. The opening is Sunday, August 24, from 12-5. Then just for good measure, there's a closing on Friday September 5 from 7-10---that's a First Friday, so open gallery night in Oakland. That address again is 6604 San Pablo Ave. in Oakland.

Please come! I'll want to shake your hand.

Communication Gap

(August 16, 2008-September 8, 2008)

Opening Reception August 24, 2008 12-5pm
Musical Performance by Judgement Day, Anteatereatant, & a special guest.

When we communicate with other people we are often challenged in many ways. Differences in language, gender, and personal experience, all contribute to our diverse nature of understanding and ways of thinking. We express ourselves through a complex system of interaction. Body language, eye contact, touch, and smell are lost over the Internet, phones, and satellite signals-often resulting in communicative misunderstandings.

With so many ways to reach people in our global environment many of us feel disconnected and isolated within this web of communication gaps. Six artists have contributed work that expresses their frustration or joy in human attempts to communicate.

Closing Reception Friday, September 5th, 2008 7-10pm

ARTISTS: Angie Brown, Crystal Morey, Jake Gabel,
Nancy Bach, Patrick Renner & Amanda Jayne Kennedy

Also Showing in our Artist of the Month Gallery: Work by Amy Martin

I Lied

I forgot I needed to scan for a show. I'll be showing work at The Compound, 6604 San Pablo Ave., starting August 24. All new, some never-before-seen, and I'll have prints for sale too.

I know there will be an opening but I don't know when, so keep watching this space, mmkay?

2005 In Review

Packing to move means sorting through old sketches, notebooks, etc.... And I found this. Ha! Enjoy it kids, it's the last thing I'm scanning for the next two weeks---the scanner's getting packed tonight.

San Diego 2008 Recap

Comicon delivered. Swarms of nutjobs in costumes. Heavy dudes with ponytails. Swanky condos in the sky. Beer and bars. Fancy tiki drinks. Good, GOOD friends. Thank you San Diego Comicon for being the kooky little universe I'd like to inhabit every day.

Visuals first:



From the Tori Amos panel.




That would be Star St. Germaine.



Mike Yoshioko and Miriam Libicki. (Hey Mike! your last name!!)



Hugging giant donuts with mollycules.



Molly's Huevos



I couldn't get his face right. I was really hung over, ok.


And now the highlights:
--The fake Field's, followed by the real Field's, and good old Irish beer.
--Solo day at the beach. Warm sun, my cute bathing suit, surfers, parasailers, giant new sunglasses, reading, the German boys who laughed like crazy at the seagull shit on their towels, no one to talk to for hours. Brilliant.
--Corey Feldman's personal assistant came over to me and Molly at the table and attempted to impress us with his fame. I respond with wide-eyed oohing and aahing, which he totally buys. He tells us Corey Feldman is a whiny dork in orthopedic lifts.
--Two times I had the floor in front of me cleared by security personnel, which of course means someone totally famous is coming. First time: Doogie Howser (aka Dr. Horrible). Second time: Samuel L. Jackson. Oooh!!
--Greek yogurt and granola.
--Little girls squealing over mollycules' art, then being utterly shocked and obviously impressed at the one of Peaches giving the finger. Their daddy bought them each a postcard.
--Mike and Miriam's how-we-met story. Sigh.
--Garrett Dillahunt came by the table and I said "hey! I saw your shows! how ya doin'?" We chatted about Deadwood, how this was his first Comicon, etc. Then, I asked him if he still lived in the Bay Area. He got a really nervous look on his face and said "no."
--Ordering a horny monkey. Ook!
--Drawing next to Keith Knight at the Cartoon Art Museum table and trying to get the fat fanboy in front of us to pose like the sexy manga character he wanted drawn.
--The beautiful Tori Amos panel that I thought would be cheesy but had me almost in tears.
--The weird look Elvira gave me when I asked her to sign a photo "Thanks for letting Amy stay with you!" She did it.
--Running into Dirk Tiede, a friend I used to draw with in Chicago. Getting misty-eyed. "Remember when I first met you and I was doing my first ever page layouts?"
--The beautiful Hyatt.
--Miriam's goodbye hug.
--Brunch with Tristan. The Bill story. Blueberry french toast.
--Potential.

I'm off!!

Leaving tonight for San Diego. I'll be twittering from the convention. Except for tomorrow, when I will be NOT-twittering from the fuckin' BEACH.

--Amy

SF Zine Fest recap

Zine Fest was... well, gosh. It made me sad, I guess. Conventions usually make me very happy and excited, but this one felt like a letdown, emotionally. I'm still going through the first year of conventions I'm doing by myself after always doing them with the ex, the one who got me started in self-publishing and really pushed me to draw comics and get them out there. He was always sort of shy and a table-hider at conventions, but he was a great partner to bounce ideas off of, and always ready with praise or encouragement when I needed it. I expect the first year I'll keep thinking of what it was like last year, when he was there. Once I get past APE the memories won't be so pungent, I guess.

Yeah. Zine Fest made me sad. It made me look at the numbers of men around me who are drawing and/or reading comics that exploit women. Comics that perpetuate the male gaze. (I had a great convo with someone about this at the Fest, and I was trying to think of the right words, and it confused me for a moment when she identified the problem as "the masculine gays.") It made me look at my comics and think that the best ones I've made are ones that were written by someone else. Not true, I know (although Sea Lion and OCB will forever be classics), but it is true that writing does not come easy to me and I am never sure that I'm getting my ideas across. The drawing part comes so much more naturally. Most of the time I just want to skip ahead and start drawing already.

Toward the end of Sunday a gal was reading Florridian at my table and laughing. Then she pointed to the last two pages of the "agnes ranch" story and told me exactly what they represent. I grinned like a fool and said yes, yes yes yes yes, exactly!! I told her there is more coming (there is). It was the best moment I had at this convention, except possibly when I randomly met the woman who defended me after I lost my job last year.
That was almost a fucking year ago. Wow.
I thought when that happened it was going to wreck me, and instead it made me a million times stronger.
Same as the breakup.

Wow. Life's a funny bitch, isn't she?

T-minus two days until I leave for San Diego.
T-minus one month until I live in San Francisco. My apartment is a mess again, but it officially no longer matters, because I'm MOVING, geez.

--Amy

There She Goes

Oh, la vie, she is a fickle bitch, non? One month you're blogging about how much you love your home in Oakland. The next month, you're signing a lease for an apartment in San Francisco. That's right folks, I transfer operations across the bay in approximately one month.

Goodbye, beautiful sunsets, giant apartment, massive amounts of studio space, hardwood floors, walking to Piedmont, warm summer days.
HELLO, fog and coffee, being able to buy groceries, staying out past midnight!
HELLO SAN FRANCISCO!!

Can't Keep It In.......

I'm officially too excited not to officially announce that I will be attending Comicon in San Diego! July 24-27. I won't be selling (well not officially), but I will be there, wandering around, happy as a peach in jelly. I'll be helping out at my friend Molly's table. This year I am DEFINITELY going to the Eisners and the Masquerade. Oh hell yes.

My Adoring Public:

You'll be tickled to hear that I will be appearing at SF Zine Fest, July 19-20. It's at the San Francisco County Fair Building, which is right inside the entrance to Golden Gate Park at Ninth Ave. and Lincoln. It's gonna be an awesome show, so come out and say hi while you're at it, geez!

Yes I Study Meat Loaf

The dude, that is. Here are some studies for a comic I'm working on about the big guy.

Sketches for "Parrot's Cousin Visits"

A Red Oak Tree Grew Under Her Feet

Drawn on the bus. You can see where we went over the bumps.

More from the sketchbook...

Some of my favorite ladies!


Caro in the tub



W&P


The Socialite


The Gypsy

Heat wave

Whoa, sorry I got so cranky about whales last night, everyone. It was a lonnnng week.

The heat finally broke last night, and suddenly it was a full 30 degrees cooler than it had been the night before. It reminded me of one of my favorite Chicago memories: that last summer there, when we had that horrible week long heat wave, culminating in three or four days of 100+ degrees and humidity that sweated the posters down off our walls. M. and I were living in that crappy little apartment on Carmen, with only one air conditioner, and by day three of that heat wave that air conditioner was making no difference. To breathe was to sweat. Blinking was an exertion. But all week the weatherman kept saying "the storms are coming, the storms are coming;" thunderstorms were supposed to finish off our heat wave and turn the moisture in the air into rain. Finally one afternoon, waiting for the bus on North Avenue, I could see the black clouds rolling over. One moment there was a cool breeze---the first in ages---and the next a clap of thunder like the sound of a vessel cracking. The rain started instantly and the seven or so people waiting for the bus with me broke into cheers, applause and laughter.

Whales are sensitive

http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20080622/sc_afp/environmentwhalingiwcwhales_080622030528

*rant*
Why is everybody always yelling about how sensitive whales are? I feel like the whole world has this collective emotional boner over the idea of the largest animal on earth being extremely sensitive and fragile inside. Seriously. I would love to see a headline sometime like "Whale Destroys Town, Totally Fucks Shit Up"
Tagline: "Whales are enormous"

Where I've Been

I've been sticking closer to home lately, after deciding, on my 817th consecutive BART trip across the bay, that I was worn out and needing to spend a little more time adoring my adopted hometown.

Don't get me wrong---I'm a Chicagoan, to the core, and always will be. But I'm surprised at how much I've come to love Oakland. The two year mark is when I thought I'd be leaving the Bay area, and instead I am just getting my footing, so I am glad to be staying.

Reasons I love Oakland:
--People here are friendly and welcoming. I have all kinds of nice conversations on the bus, in lines, on bikes---people will just chat you up anywhere. Now that I take the bus every day, I know that drivers like to pull up alongside each other to shoot the shit along routes. People just love to talk here.
--It's old fashioned. Old cars are everywhere. Barber shops and burger joints. Hardly a chain restaurant to be found.
--There are palm trees.
--It's a tough place, but it has a big heart. Lots of crime, but people fight it. And say hi to each other on the street in the morning.
--The puny downtown. Aww! It's so cute!
--People are chill. There's a more relaxed feel than in San Francisco (or Chicago, for that matter). Sometimes after a long and active day in SF, I take the train back over, feel the warm sun and the breeze, and just feel pure relief.
--I love biking to the gym, or biking to my studio...
--Warm sunshine from the east in my apartment in the morning.
--Beautiful sunset from my kitchen table at night.

My Other Other Other Love

God, I could talk about feminism all day long. But since it can be hard to find another person who feels the same way,* I usually just think about it all day. Lately I have been thinking a lot about that favorite old chestnut: women and comics. Questions like, why don't more women make comics? (A: They do, you just don't notice them.) Is the comics world welcoming to women? (A: In theory, yes. In practice, no. Just like the rest of the world really.) What can I do to encourage women's interest in comics? (A: you tell me!)

My top-of-the-head, really-should-be-getting-out-of-my-pajamas-and-over-to-the-gym thoughts on the subject---all thoughts that I would like to explore in the coming weeks in this blog---are:
--women aren't represented enough in comics
--women aren't as good as men at self promotion
--women have a hard time trusting their abilities in comics

You can think of this blog entry as a thesis statement.

PS, I have more sketchbook stuff to post, I just really really hate scanning, ok??!


*Unless you happen to be BFFs with the lovely Cuffington. Which I am, lucky me!

My Other Other Love

More from the sketchbook.

My Other Love

Ever have one of those days......

So, here's what I did on Tuesday morning.

I packed up my portfolio case with all the stuff I've been working on---the six-pager, the first nine or so strips of the webcomic, plus random sketches---and all my supplies, and brought it with me to work. I do this often so I can squeeze a little drawing in at lunchtime. On this particular day I was also heading to my friend Sharon's after work for a drawing/zine-ing night. On this particular day, I thought as I rode the bus, "gosh, wouldn't it be terrible if I left my portfolio on the bus some day? What would I even DO? I'd lose everything, who knows if I would ever get it back.."

And twenty minutes later, I left my portfolio on the bus. Containing everything I've drawn since March. All the completed work on the six-pager, plus the entire script. All the un-inked webcomics. My fancy schmancy brush pen. My pencils and special comics paper. Doodles and ideas for projects I wanted to start. I didn't discover this until I was getting ready to leave work and head to Sharon's house. By that time, the customer service office for the bus company was closed, and there was fuck all I could do about my lost work until 8am.

At first, I kind of freaked. I mean, I've lost work before. Or worked forever on big projects that just never came to fruition. But this stuff was my *new direction.* A breakup comic that detailed my most tender feelings of loss for my ex, as opposed to the ones I've been posting about jaded farm animals. A webcomic that explores my childhood traumas with a joyful eye. The New Path I've been forging for myself since ending a relationship that included both comics collaboration and major love'n'hearts. Me striking bravely out on my own as a single lady.

And then I started to think, ya know, I don't really have much choice except to be kind of zen about this. I mean, I was getting my portfolio back or I wasn't, that was pretty much it, and I wasn't going to know which it was until 8am when the lost and found opened up. And maybe, this was a sign. I like to think of objectionable things as signs, rather than just stupid fucked up shit that I cannot change---it's much better. Maybe I'm supposed to see this as a reason to, as Moneet said when I ran into her on the train on the way home, "let go of some things." Which is funny because I actually had been thinking lately that my drawing since I have Struck Out On My Own has been too morose, and even I am losing interest in it.

So I bought a new sketchbook and some new pencils, and I started charting some new territory. Literally.......



Oh, and the next morning, I asked the bus driver if anyone had turned in a black zippered portfolio case. He said yes and then produced my portfolio from a magic compartment above his head. I brought him homemade cookies the next day.

Get You Some

I am now a proud businessman! though still working on the three-piece suit. And the penis. But dudes, you can like buy my stuff now via this cool site called Etsy. Click the image to the right.

Didja notice that I haven't posted about Stumptown yet? I would say it's because I am a lazy ass, but I actually HAVE been hard at work since then, on a new project. What is it? Wouldn't you like to know! (You will pretty soon!) (And, fine, I'll post about Stumptown too..)

Once Upon a Time...

omg

TOOOOTALLY almost forgot the business cards!

One More

"Rabbit in the Room" is being included in the White Rabbit Anthology, forthcoming from Fine Print Press. A preview of White Rabbit will also be on sale at Stumptown.
AND THAT'S IT!! REALLY.*


*That's never it.

The new book for Stumptown...

...is Debbie Debbie Debbie.




8x10, 12 pages, with a pink metallic cover.

And don't forget Florridian. February's child.

This weekend in Portland, OR!

Hey you!! kid!
I'll be at the Stumptown Comics Fest this weekend in beautiful Portland, Oregon. Though how I should know it's beautiful, I don't know, I have never even been there, but I am certainly looking forward to it. I'm at table 103.

The SCF is at the Lloyd Center Doubletree Hotel, at 1000 NE Multnomah in Portland. It's from 10-6 on Saturday and Sunday. Costs $6 to get in.
This is the deal of the century and if you don't get on it, you're a total ass.

I'll be selling comics, including a new mini that's debuting at SCF (!!), and some lovely-ass prints.

Hope to see you there!
--Amy

Debbie Does Portland

Debbie's done.. or at least the drawing is done. Still have to hash out a cover.
Also finished up a special edition print that I'll be selling at Stumptown.

Short weekend, and tomorrow begins a six day work week.

Just bragging

These are some pictures of the new art collective I just joined. Shared work space, a lounge, and a gallery---the brainchild of two of the most wonderful folks ever.






Jealous??

Don't be. You can join too! If you're looking for studio space in the East Bay, look 'em up.