After the year of wow
Earlier today I was talking with a friend about how today is the end of the financial year -- the year is halfway over! -- and how I felt a little guilty, a little disheartened, because I'd had so many projects and ideas and plans on my 2014 to-do list, and I felt I hadn't made headway on a lot of them. (I've been feeling particularly terrible about art, I confess; so many things I want to do, and it's been so hard just gathering up every single scrap of energy I have for a few hours of painting and inking and scribing. I haven't done half as much as I want to do for Patreon, I'm several comics and nice art scraps short, etc etc...) And then we fell to talking about what he called "the year of WoW" (which, of course, I first thought was just the year of wow, and was all, "huh, the year of amazingness?") -- that one year you lose to drastic change, where you can't seem to produce anything or work on any of your personal projects because so much of your energy has gone into simply keeping your head above water. (In my friend's wife's case, she dove straight into World of Warcraft whenever she wasn't at work, which is where the term comes from.) I realize now 2013 was that year for me. This 2014 I'm doing things again -- small things, but still things that matter to me -- and though it's very frustrating at times not being able to do everything I want to... hey, I just emerged from my year of (not)WoW, my year of wow, the year where I fought for a new life after my world had been broken open. So it's a good reminder to have, and one I think I should turn to often, whenever I feel that I'm not doing enough, not trying hard enough, falling shamefully short. There are years when all one can do is deal with the aftershocks of cataclysm. And that's okay. We break. We recover. We rise. We rise. We rise. We're in the midst of a cold dark winter right now. So I'm fighting back with color. This is a detail from a massive piece I'm doing. Give me movement, give me vibrant, reckless color!