Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Looking through my notes and doodles, I found a parade participant I mean to do and didn't. Something for the RMA, an ostensible watchdog, but with perhaps two legs.
So not a million miles away from this:
As a sometime amateur actor, I eventually learned to take compliments. If not gracefully, then without becoming vaguely disgruntled. Part of the problem is that from the inside it's hard to tell exactly what people are complimenting.
So I'm pleased about all the positive feedback on the parade thing, some of which was in real life. Thank you.
Hopefully I'll have more opportunities to work out how to deal with the 'your best yet' thing, because that's like, y'know, pressure...
Apparently one lesson is I should always include leeks. To use the parlance, it sounds like I owe a few people a new keyboard.
As it happens, I would have been hugely disgruntled if I didn't get some love for that one (I actually said as much out loud as I was near finishing). I'm aware - or at least I hope this is what it is - I've reach the point where I'm sufficiently established that I need to do something particularly good (or timely, or impressive) to get feedback. On the bright side, that means the average excitement of getting praise remains about constant.
(Also basically why I turned on comments on this blog.)
The reason I wanted linky love for this one in particular was it was an awful lot of work. Possibly not as masterworks go, but still enough to draw polite implications from workmates that perhaps I should be doing something else during a busy week.
I had it mostly mapped out before the election (I reasoned it would be at least as piquant if team Key didn't win), actually started election afternoon and kept working, very much on and off, until the Monday week follow, when it was fortunately relevant (like many others I was taken aback at how quickly the whole government-forming thing went).
Hopefully the difficulty doesn't show too much. In David Low's autobiography he says that at one time he would spend three days on a cartoon: two days of effort and one removing the appearance of effort (I suspect he was drawing more lines than he did later in his career). Not actually drawing stuff no doubt helps me with the appearance-of-work thing. That said I am doing more of drawing - and I think my general work has improved - since I got my graphics tablet.
This might also be a good time to talk about my relationship with copyright, but - for all that predictions in blogging are perilous - I'll save that for later. Hopefully you'll hear more about David Low before the summer is out too.
Ah, yes, that would be sprezzatura, Messer Giovanni della Casa - no relation - came up with it in the Book of the Courtier (first half of the sixteenth century, yo). The art of feigning effortlessness.
And since we've reached the point of metacompliments, I might as well tell you that I think your work is great. You're one of the precious few custodians of the lost arts of satire, and I would respectfully beg you to forgo work deadlines and irritate workmates more and more if that's what it takes. We live in dark times when allegory and puns are considered crass. We need more Hoods in our 'hoods. Yo.
And leek-related humour - there's never too much of that.
Low had only a brief flirtation with formal training so the word sprezzatura would probably be foreign to him in every sense, but, yes, that's the kind of thing.
He actually has some things to say about some of the cartoonists he grew up seeing, who freed up the medium but gave shallow imitators the idea that the only qualification for being a cartoonist was not being able to draw.
Also, your work is great.