The death of my father has thrown me into a nostalgic mood. I’m remembering things I hadn’t thought of for years and years…if ever. Even before his passing I was on the track to starting a sort of autobio journal comic and now I don’t think I can stop myself from doing it.
Back in the 90s in particular there was something of a glut of autobio comics. Sort of. It was only a glut if you don’t like them or if you believe there is some kind of limit to how many life stories can be told. I enjoy reading them. They’re honest and real and I feel connected to other people by learning how they think, what they think, and what they’ve experienced. So I’ll probably start sharing my own thoughts and memories in pictures and panels and word balloons very soon.
I have no huge plans for this. Hell knows I already have more than enough projects on my desk and not nearly enough raw energy to see them done with anything resembling speed. But I do what I do and it’s all I can do. Kind of like Popeye. So I’ll do this in honor of my father and in order to sort through these old, dusty memories of bygone places, past times, and lost worlds. Maybe I can reveal things about the world that some folks never knew in the same way others have revealed things to me.
We all have stories to tell. I’m a story teller.