Origins: Prior to starting Blender Kitty in 2000, I generated about 375 pages of comics between 1988 and 1999. In this section I have selected a few works to show you. These works are among my favorites, but they do not represent the wide variety of material I produced during this time.
I do not dwell extensively (and hardly at all) on my earliest development in the mid-60s, but I include a very few examples of comics made in grade school on the last page.
Epic Dermis n1: Thanks to the Xeric Foundation, I was awarded a grant in 1999 that enabled me to self-publish my first collection of Epic Dermis pieces. The remainder of this page exhibits selections from that opus. (Cover pictured):
Holofernes and The Haircut: Splash page.
Epic Dermis n1: Dogs and pirates.
What the Easter Bunny Told Me
The Bed Wetter: Like Blood Nap (below), The Bed Wetter chronicles a urination dream. The power line motif may be viewed as subterfuge or as brain interference. Either way, this mechanism of white noise prevents dreams from becoming fully conscious to the sleeper. (I dare say that the depiction of a detached male member limited the number of comic book stores that carried my book.)
Blood Nap: These splash pages portray a restless night’s sleep filled with nightmares. The last page is an attempt to capture an accelerated sense of time, or decompression, at the moment the alarm clock goes off in the morning.
Abnegation: I am compelled to repudiate certain expressions of my youthful creativity, even as late as into my mid-to-late thirties. Beginning with Bible Welts, I discovered a rich vein to mine by combining my love of the language in The King James Bible with my love of puns and nonsensical wordplay. I did not, in any of these pages, intend sacrilege, malice, or mockery, as I was simply creating out of my upbringing in the Southern Baptist Church and having fun at its expense; and yet, where these indulgences are conflated with other elements, chiefly salacious material intended to shock, irreligious inferences will be made, which I regret.
Unfortunately Epic Dermis No. 1, my only published comic, falls within this period of my counter-culture evolution. Perhaps owing to autism, my sources for artistic inspiration are far and varied, and indicate predilections peculiar to myself. Very few bridges can be built between these early ideas, and there is no philosophy behind them, despite my youthful vanity at the time insisting otherwise. No—this is absudist bricolage; and to approach these assemblages with literal-mindedness in what they appear, superficially, to communicate on a given page is to assume more than was meant. I usually leave it to the reader to interpret my comics as they see fit, but I have at least one example of this book possibly encouraging a reader in his atheism. He may have been surprised to discover, after contacting me, that I was not an atheist. It is for this reason that I set the record straight on this one issue.
I do not seek to destroy these explorations because they are instructive, just as similar journeys made by other artists and thinkers are instructive to me, whether these creators’ initial rejections of an existing order were made with strident arguments or out of unreflective frivolity. It is, as T. S, Eliot characterized the journey, “returning to a place and knowing it for the first time.” In short, creation is the business of inverting values to learn their value; but this is not so odd an occurrence since prodigals regularly return to the fold after a time of rebellion, such as the example of decadent Alice Cooper becoming (or returning to) Christianity. His journey is my own.
It is rationalism to suppose, where one makes artful or clever sport of a faith, that when such a sinner repents, he is all the more convincing because he once typified the superior reasoning behind the opposition, and yet came to reject it. This is my feeble justification in sparing my early life too much censure.
My lamentation will be lamented by those who may view my earlier work as having relevance, if only because of the things I now regret; yet what I seek is forgiveness from my God and not from my critics.
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