We interrupt your regularly scheduled Storm Sunday to bring you this news-breaking, world-shaking, life-changing edition of STORM Sunday. This multi-post edition signals a shift in consciousness (as well as the shift key) for all things stormantic. Thank you for your patronage! Dear Reader,
I wish to share some of my experiences from this past weekend before the echoes of memory grow distant. Blissfully, WonderCon ultimately lived up to its name, providing me with admiration for many a comic book creator, amazement at the work they do, and awe that I got the chance to interact with both of the aforementioned. My mind boggles at the number and variety of people that I was blessed to interact with on many different meaningful levels. I’ll do my best to recount the highlights of what was the most spectacular weekend in at least the last year (coincidentally, this is a year to date from last year’s WonderCon, my first convention I’ve ever attended).
However, I simply must present you with a little history, some background if you will, on why this weekend was so seminal for me. You see, I have been working Special Events at the Isotope for a full year now and I have to give a lot of credit to James Sime for asking me this question one night while we were enjoying ginger and cilantro vodka drinks at The Orbit Room:
“Why aren’t you making comics?”
It was this simple question that gave me flashbacks to my childhood, when I drew my own stories. It made me reexamine the times throughout my life where I diminished the importance of my art and allowed myself to believe that I was supposed to pursue a more societally accepted profession. That I had ingested the propoganda that writings novels or screenplays were a higher artform than sequential art. That I had forgotten the joy I embodied when I gave in to my storyteller nature. That my soul needed me to honor this path that I had strayed from as a teenager.
One simple question.
That question planted a seed. That seed brought forth this fruit:
I’m proud to say that in the last year I’ve been able to reclaim the power I gave away surrounding my perception of the stories I need to tell and the medium in which I must tell them. Princess Witch Boy is the culmination of my graduate theses from 2005 – 2007. My MA and MFA theses explored gothic and trauma themed memoir as well as my life long obsession with the heroic, the magickal and the fantastical (When I speak of magick here, I am referring to the divine. The realm of imagination is undiluted fantasy. These two realms merge to create the landscape required for the hero’s journey for which Joseph Campbell is so well known). For the first time since achieving my Master’s, I understand the story that I must tell. Comics are the only medium that can do justice to my goal of integrating and presenting the magickal and mundane worlds that I dance between.
It’s not a lot to go on, I admit, but I don’t want to give too much away yet. It’s important that you dwell in your own way on the idea of what a “fantasy memoir” might entail. It’s crucial that you bring your own understanding of what is considered “real” and “make believe” to the narrative. It is my intention to create space for an exploration of that elusive quality that we call “truth.”
The sigil on the right hand side of this image is The Eye of The STORM, a magickal symbol I created when I distilled the perception of my personal essence into art. It is a potent spell, drawing upon ancient Egyptian iconography (The Eye of Ra/Horus and the ankh), witchcraft (The pentacle), and nature (The lightning bolt) for power. Its history will be made more evident over time.
Many people at WonderCon asked me about how much work I’ve completed for Princess Witch Boy and I told them, as I now tell you, dear reader, that creating these flyers was a kind of an elaborate mind game. I have written many stories that will be a part of this comic. I have many sketches, drawings and thumbnails to supplement this writing. However, the sequential art still needs birthing. My next step is to create a mini comic that will tell one specific piece of the overall story, one of the threads that exists within the overarching narrative. It is my intention to have this mini completed for San Diego Comic Con. I will post updates on here regarding my progress. I am making my goal public as to create a heightened sense of culpability on my part to getting my art completed. I need the deadlines, you see, as I am one of those folks who works well under pressure, in full view of my community. Your anticipation is the impetus for my action.
So, many thanks to James for the initial push. His love for the medium compels him to initiate others to make their art a reality. He is a catalyst for creativity. This is one of the many reasons I admire him and am honored to be his friend. Yes, it is true that James is also my boss, but the friendship was gained long before the employment, and I would not work for him if I did not believe in his sincerity and dedication to what he believes in. The Isotope is a testament to the scope and tenacity of his vision. It is a blessing and a privilege to be a part of it.
Next: I reminisce about the Tiki Tour and the 100 Bullets party, reflect upon my first comic convention cosplay experience, and recommend a slew of amazing creators and comics organizations to enrich your life! Yes, yes, I know it’s a tad strange to have a multi-part post that spans more than one day be named after Sunday, but if I don’t wind this post up right now, I’m going to fall asleep on my keyboard!