Most of you have GOT to be tired of this by now. Be brave, this is the last of it.

So, apparently Katie still reads this journal every single day obsessively, since generally the few times I've said anything bad about her she makes a huge shitstorm about it on my LJ and then on Facebook within a few hours.

I had been writing in the mind that no one except the people on my f-list actually read it, because writing with the idea that your "enemies" read your content is generally a pretty egotistical thing to assume, and I sort of wanted to beleive that Katie really didn't care anymore and had learned her lesson the last couple of times.

But now apparently she's seething and screaming over on Facebook, and Beth made it pretty clear (along with Dori, jesus, like she spent more than a week actually hanging out with me once freshman year of highschool) and possibly Mike K. that they hate my guts and want me to DIAF.

Over a single fucking sentence. That no one forced her to read, that she shouldn't have been reading, because she should know by now that I'm never going to have anything good to say about her.

The fact is, her art is fun to make fun of sometimes. It happens. I try to refrain from it, but sometimes it slips out.

All my life my peers and family instilled me with a drive to be the best I could be, to constantly strive to improve, and to never be satisfied with less than my best. Do I enjoy making art? I love it with every fiber of my being. I become lost in what I do. I love the conversation that happens between mind and paper. I love learning ways to refine and expand my repertoire of medium and technique.

I just figured that talking about that sort of thing bores everyone to death. And I'd much rather just let the dedication I put into my career as an illustrator speak for itself.

Katie on the other hand seems to want nothing more than to take the easy route to everything and to indulge herself without ever going out of her comfort zone. Art to her is anything that makes you happy and proud of yourself, and that copying someone else is work is easy.

Actually, it's incredibly difficult to do successfully. And I don't copy other artist's work because I want a portfolio just like their's in the end; I copy to gain their confidence in mark making and see how they came to the artistic conclusions they did; to dissect the decisions they made when they decided THIS color for THAT color, THIS composition for THAT one.

And there's always the fact that Katie can ONLY do what she does. And not very well. Her art isn't a choice, her lack of skill and observation has forced her to be extremely limited in her expression. So her work looks half baked and lazy. There's nothing to be proud of about that, yet she is extremely proud of her work.

Can we take a moment to realize that this is my journal and not an entry in some textbook, and therefore is simply my personal opinion? I recognize that this is a subjective argument. But I also know that my views are broadly reflected by most of my colleagues at MICA and even in other private art schools. Which is an elitist institution that Katie isn't a part of, so maybe part of this is a bitter rebellion against my entire establishment. MICA students are known, or so my teachers tell me, by the professional world to be obsessed with perfection and putting the most time and energy they can into their work. That sort of dedication and devotion to high craftsmanship attracts people because it's hard to come by fresh out of college.

To a MICA student, doing simply what you enjoy gets you no-where fast. Because if you don't shut up your constant internal monologue of how important your happiness is, you never learn that your initial ideas are trite and poorly constructed (and ultimately no one else cares about them). In essence, you remain an amateur all throughout college. What a fucking waste. You must open yourself up to criticism and revision, two things Katie cannot tolerate ever ever ever. Admitting that you have everything to learn from your teachers is the only way to get better.

And getting better is important to me. Not because I crave outside approval so much, but because getting better means I can do something no one else can, getting better means I can say what I have to say in more media, in more universal terms, in a more beautiful way. I went to MICA to get better. And I'm doing just that, and I love it. And finally, because I didn't get lazy and complacent with easy praise, my hard work is paying off.

Do you know what being professional, getting paid to illustrate, means to me? It means sharing my vision with a broader audience, it means having the funds to do what I love to the highest degree possible. Of course I am excited about what happened at Comic-con. Do you think Mignola would have ever been able to write and draw Hellboy had he been breaking his back on a construction job? No. Instead, Dark Horse pays him so that he can live a life conducive to making the work that I love. That is worthwhile to me, and anyone who thinks I'm selling myself has no business going to college for art in the first place.

I'm the happiest I've ever been at MICA, and that overshadows the fact that almost everyone I know from Highschool now thinks I'm a bitch. It takes *nothing* to get into the towson art program and become a star. And it takes nothing to hate someone and feel threatened by their opinions.

I find Katie pathetic for a lot of reasons. She endlessly criticises me for being offensive, completely forgetting all the incredibly hurtful things she has said and done to me throughout our friendship. Everyone finds her adorable and just so squishy and a beautiful snowflake, so when she blames everything on me they swallow it hook line and sinker; how can I be anything but a horrible satanic bitch by comparison? I think she is crazy and retarded and weak and selfish in her dealings with people, especially the people she has sex with. She's manipulative and over-sensitive, and romanticizes her destructive behavior so that she can bore everyone else with her misfortunes. I have always disliked her in some small part, but after years of putting up with her insane manic depressive swings and slavish obsessions, I find myself releived to be out of that nightmare and surrounded by people like me. People who are stable and loaded with plenty of common sense and a lack of patience for those who have none. For people who take their growth as an artist seriously.

I am a firm beleiver that if you say you can't do something, you never will. And that's the only thing, finally, that determines whether you can or can't do something. That beleif has helped me accomplish so many things. And sometimes I get tired of people who settle for the easy road.

I firmly beleive that I will be sucessful, that my work will be recognized and that I am worth something as an artist. I beleive that I will continually grow and that I will never be satisfied with doing simply what I know is popular. My teachers have faith in me. Some of the biggest names in alternative comics have faith in me. I am good enough and hard working enough that my teachers are willing to help me get an internship with one of the most respected names in american illustration today. Make no mistake, I'm pretty shocked. I will always find my work flawwed and full of trite little artistic holes. If I thought my work was perfect then Katie would have every right to snub me. In truth I think my work is flawwed while others tell me I'm ready to do this for a living, while Katie thinks her work is perfect simply because she enjoys making it, and at least I know my teachers rolled their eyes at it freshman year. All of that just makes me want to work harder and become even better than anyone expects me to be. I embrace that responsibility, knowing full well that the next two years hold many painful lessons to get to that point.

....so, in the midst of all this, when Katie uploads her blobby wrinkled watercolors and calls them dinosaurs, and then refuses to hear anything but praise for their genius, I have to laugh and make fun of her a little bit. You would think I was allowed to do that on my own goddamned LJ. She should know by now that reading my LJ will not make her happy, and she's only fooling herself when she says that she just "skims it once every six months to see how I'm doing." Please.

So, I'm going to violate my own rules for her sake. She needs an intervention, and I need my privacy. I'm the only one here strong enough to make this decision, as experience with the endless five year Joe affair proves. So, no more LJ for her. This journal is going to be friends only from now on. But you will forgive me someday, because I have instead the BEST image to hang on the locked door for you to stare at through bitter tears.

Wow, that was quick. Katie, looks like either you've got a loyal fan willing to create a sock-puppet LJ just to harrass me on my own, or....you've created a sock puppet LJ just to harass me on my own.

You're going to have to make more accounts, because that one was bannanated from commenting and your art still really really really blows chunks out of a monkey's ass. Do you want me to get more specific and cite examples, pulling reference and making diagrams, or are you going to stop reading my LJ once and for all and spend that time actually learning how to draw?

Anyways.

Jose's crit was pretty good. I drew a poodle evolving into a xenomorph. These new nibs I bought----HOLY SHIT. I could probably solve world hunger with these nibs. His criticisms were more just the text placement, and he wants me to overlap the animals. Besides that everyone really liked the creatures themselves.

Oh. And I want to make this.

Maybe it's just that it's a core class, but I've never seen Jose be such a hardass. Last class I felt like it was just me, but today he was torching anyone who was out of line even a little. Poor Taylor isn't too happy about it.

Somebody in class has videos of James Jean explaining his process on the computer, they were class specific and you can't find them on the net. This felt like a good opportunity to ask Jose about that. I feel like a lot of people outside the illustration world still don't know who he is, so if you guys haven't checked him out already, do so. It's the only way you'll see why this is so important. So, after class I discretely asked Jose if he honestly thought an internship with James Jean this summer was actually possible for me, and it wasn't some kind of joke that I should waste my time with. In all seriousness he was like, "Obviously I can't promise anything, but it's totally possible for you. Talk to me in Febuary and just keep doing what you are doing in class. You shouldn't worry about it."

You mean I don't have to sacrifice 70 virgins and 40 bulls to the goat god Astarte for this to happen? Maybe I will just in case....

During crit I did a really cute drawing of Hitomi that I'll have to post on celineloupillustration.net for the blog section. Sketchblog, sketchblog, sketchblog, how I wish I had more time for one.

Rachel Salomon really liked my midterm sketches, and she's warming up to me I think. She keeps praising my dedication to this class and is really confident that I'll come up with something really awesome for the midterm series.

Work today was physically extremely painful, but rewarding. I basked in the luscious scapes of amano, but actually I'm already getting a little tired of him. Which is very good---this lends to an objective take on his methods and a comfortable wedge between plagarism and inspiration. There are so many things I want to try, such as acrylic ink and the instant transfer technique Shannon showed us how to do. I want to go NUTS with this midterm.

Packing tonight and making dinner hopefully now that the kitchen is at long last clean. Oh, and I need to email Emma as she's been very sick. Can't wait for a day spent with mom tomorow.

Oh btw, our new landlords have MAINE COON KITTENS!!!!!!!!!

Long time no see, LJ.

This week has been insane, just like the week before it. I've been having terrifying grisly nightmares every single night, as is the usual habit of mine whenever the stress levels get out of control. My acne was also through the fucking roof this week; I looked like shiiiiiit. Today I looked better though. I'm really thankful it's the end of the week, which means I get to pack my shit up and MOVE THE FUCK OUT OF THIS GOD FORSAKEN APARTMENT.

Tomorow mom and I (and Jordan?) will go to IKEA and some thrift stores to get a mattress and some furniture.

My midterms went very well, and to celebrate I got pretty much everything that Amano has for sale on Amazon. Five huge art books for $65. The first one came today. I'll be studying the hell out of all of them. I am determined to process his techniques through my own and master what he does until it becomes second nature. That's kind of what I do with all the artists who inspire me. I absorb them and absorb them until I've taken everything that speaks to me and make it my own and throw away the rest. It's a bit like creating your own slang. I try to focus on a shitload of artists though so that my work doesn't start looking like any one person's. I'm sure I'll get people saying a lot of nasty things about plagarism, but I think it was the best lesson I learned sophomore year. Pay attention to the masters. Play their game until you can beat them at it. Because they are sucessful and you are a no-life lowly student; you don't have the right to a style yet. The only rights you have are to absorb, learn, process, and produce. It's very Descartian.

By comparison, it still BOGGLES MY MIND that Katie N. still blows hardcore whenever she posts anything to DA. WHY?!! WHY!!! HOW CAN SHE NOT HAVE IMPROVED EVEN A LITTLE BIT?! Srsly, what the fuck does it take to go to college and actually get worse from where you were in highschool?

Ugh. I'll have more to say on this later, and many other things. However now I need to go to work, and afterwards I'll be stuffing my things into cardboard boxes to be taken to the new house tomorow.

What a strange surreal day it has been.

Woke up early this morning to go to the Small Press Expo in Bethesda. Stayed up until two last night working very hard on my assignments and also tearing through the apartment trying to find my favorite jacket to wear to the convention the next day. Never found it. Jordan left last night around 10:20 after a very boring last minute round of sex, the first time in a week and a half. I was very excited to begin with, but Jordan shrugged off my advances and I ended up feeling very turned off and kindof hurt. Five minutes later he lies down on the couch with me and asks me if I want to have sex, since he was suddenly in the mood now and gave very good reasons why we should (he'd be gone the whole weekend, essentially, which was exactly what I had in mind the *first* time we had this discussion). I could tell he felt guilty and kindof confused about his own behavior, and he was trying to make it up to me, so I agreed but by then the magic was killed and so I was barely interested. It speaks volumes about the quality of the physical therapy I was in last year, because now I can relax enough to have completely pain-free sex with a little help from friends K and Y without being even a little turned on (you know that scene in Amelie? Yeah, ok). Afterwards as Jordan was getting ready to leave, he apologized for being so weird and said he didn't know why he did these things, and that maybe it was a control thing. He shrugged off the idea pretty much as soon as he brought it up, but I'd have to agree with him. Sarah has been saying that control is one of the biggest motivators for the both of us for pretty much as long as I've been seeing her. We've both had pretty fucked up childhoods and an excessive need to feel on top of things is how we make ourselves feel safe. Jordan seems to always want me to be the one making the sexual advances, (because when you're passive, you don't have to take any responsibility ever for what happens, and Jordan is a very passive guy) except I'm making them pretty much all the time and he rarely responds (because who the fuck knows why, excpet he gets to feel like he has something I want and in control of the situation). Absolutely this is a control thing, whether he's concious of it or not. It's very confusing, and it always reminds me of our time in highschool together where he was an enormous prick to me.

Looking back on it, I really shouldn't have had sex with him last night. I wasn't interested and it only bred resentment in me, and I feel like whatever bullshit is behind his behavior, I just reinforced it.

We're actually very happy together when we're NOT trying to bullshit our way around the bedroom---sex has honestly become a guessing game that I am just too exhausted to play at this point. I get to cuddle with him at night when we finally decide we've worked hard enough that day, and cuddling is free and safe.

So, SPX. I got in free, yay, and passed by Top Shelf and Chris Staros recognized me from Comicon. So that was pretty cool. Eventually I found Jillian Tamaki, and her cousin who worked with her on "Skim". The tamakis were super nice, and Jilian asked to look at my portfolio before I got the chance to bring it up. She's good friends with Jose and teaches junior illustration students up at Parsons in NYC. Jilian gave very good advice, which can be basically boiled down to "you should not be so worried about your career right now, you have all of senior year to think about that. Right now you need to channel all that ambitious engergy you obviously have into pumping out 20 sketches a day and producing a ton of work, so that you can really take advantage of 'you time' that is your junior year. You need to spend this year finding your voice and your method, what works for you and what doesn't, and transforming your work from student level to professional level by the end of the year." She liked my softer drawings, the kind where I'm painting and then drawing on top, and my limited color pallette (this seems to be a unanimous thing everyone says about my work). Apparently a lot of her Junior year students have absolutely no color sense or imagination when it comes to creating a pallete. That sort of thing always seems really weird to me, since I feel like you can develop a pretty good idea for color just by looking at the work of people who already do, like looking at magazines and that sort of thing. She also said not to bother to pay to get into any anthology that doesn't get reviewed and juried, because if all you have to do to get in is pay a fee, what good is that when joe schmoe puts his 300 dollars down next to yours with his shitty portfolio? Better to submit your work senior year (or really whenever you can afford it) to American Illustrators and CA (communication arts), which she juries for.

I bought Skim and a few other works for 35 dollars, and then she gave me another book for free and we traded cards and she told me to email her.

After wandering around and buying a few more comics to try out I realized I was passing Carla Speed McNeil's table and she called out to me. I was so happy to see her. She introduced me to I think it was Mike Carrey, who worked on Sandman for a few years and did The Furies. He was super shy. Carla is so much fun to talk to and she thinks we'll have a lot of unexpectedly similar things to find out about each other. She told us this great story about a house that was recently condemned on her block, really hilarious and scary stuff. The summer seems definetly on for us, I can't wait.

Heather found me, along with her boyfriend Luke.We took a break on one of the couches and we saw Brian Ralph, who really liked my finished homework I showed him for tuesday. Then Emma came around, looking awesome as usual and she showed me the business cards she printed out. They looked *really* good; I think it's awesome that I'm not the only one now who's using these opportunities to network. Way to go, Emma!

Luke doesn't eat much but I was starving so Heather left Luke at the con and walked me to the McDonalds. On the way I told her about Alain Corbel, who sat behind me on the way here in Evan's car. For those of you who don't go to MICA, Alain is a french illustrator who speaks three languages and is very nice, but can't teach his way out of a paper bag and has the highest drop rate of anybody in the department. I try to be nice to him because i feel guilty for dropping Studio Remix last year, and sometimes I get the feeling that he hates being in america, so I try to speak french with him whenever I see him. There was a point in the car where the conversation kindof died down, and the girl in the back seat was like,

"Alain, you've been pretty quiet so far. What's up?"

"I don't mind, I am watching the truck."

Me: "What truck?"

"You know, the big yellow one. The big yellow truck." (we are on the turnpike and I swear to god there are only convertibles and buicks in sight all around us)

"Uhhh..."

Alain: "Yes. I have a friend, she does photography, and sometimes she tries to capture the cars, but not with the camera, she does this-" at this point he was reaching out between the seats and making grabbing motions with his hand, right next to my head "-but sometimes you cannot see them, and they make lines, but not with the camera, just with your hand..." And as he continues the girl in the back seat was trying to make sense of it, so she says,

"Oh, you mean like when you see someone you don't like far away and you try to squish their head with your fingers?"

"Yes. And then you put ketchup on it in photoshop."


After eating my fill of chicken nuggets I read Skim on my way home in the car. The combination of McDonald's and reading in the car (though Tamaki's work is soooo pretty) made me really sick, so they dropped me off on Eutaw and I stumbled into bed. Only to get called twice, first by Taylor and then by Mom, each about half way through trying to go back to sleep. I'm sure I made no sense on the phone. I slept until nine pm and I'm still exhausted; I feel really out of it. I had horrible nightmares about the new apartment. I dreamed that the grandmother of our landlords living below us kept calling me, asking me to hold a seance or a ritual or something to allow the spirit of her dead son to inhabit our apartment. At first she was nice about it when I told her no way in hell, but after a few days she became angry and threatening, and one time after hanging up the phone I realized I was alone in the apartment and the air felt very heavy. I turned around and saw, framed in a very dark doorway, a spirit like something out of fatal frame floating there, complete with the Francis Bacon face. I freaked out and started to scream, but I couldn't move and the spirit started to claw at my face, forcing its way into my mouth. It was horrible and so real, and worse, my scream seemed to go on forever and twist into this inhuman scratchy gutteral death rattle.

I woke up shortly afterwards. I felt like shit and didn't move for a while. I'm never eating McDonald's again.

I've been reading "Stranger Things Happen" for Jose's class, since if I don't he'll publicly humiliate me. I have to read about two stories a day to finish the book by thursday. I'm also reading Arabian Nights for inspiration for my midterm. I want so badly to feel good about this book but my enthusiasm for it is often and repeatedly destroyed every time I read, " and the husband, having listened to the good advice of his friends, beat his wife unconcious until she became submissive and knew her place then, and there was great rejoicing from their friends and family and the happy couple lived happily for a hundred years more." Carla and I had a fun discussion about this; apparently there is quite a lack of varied heroines coming from persian/islamic culture, while there is in fact an abundance of awesome female heroes in Indian folklore, where the wives are clever and resourceful and manage to fix everything before their husbands even wake up, and in the morning put their saris back over their heads and pretend like it was all his doing *kiss kiss kiss*. In Russia, the heroines don't even make a pretense with their husbands; they are tall and strong and they get shit done while their sickly boyfriends cower in a corner. So I may have to do quite a lot of varied reading. Currently switching back and forth from Arabian Nights (as misogynistic as it is, it is incredible literature for its time) and Vasilissa the Beautiful. I might also have to look into some hindu myths. There is a point in the story of Vasilissa where a rider dressed all in red gallops past her on a red horse, and as he passes her it becomes night. It's such a bizarre surreal image, I've fallen in love with it a bit. There are also white and black riders, also bringing their own part of the day and night with them.

Anyways, I'm going to heat up some left overs and get a drink. I need to do a lot of work tonight since I slept all day.

I WANT THEM AND I CAN'T HAVE THEM.

...or at least, not until Sock dreams decides to sell them in their online shop. For now it's a store only item, until they've caught up with all the other new designs coming in.

BUT SOME DAY.

That's what I was doing all of monday. And make no mistake, as night fell I was consistently scowling between shots.

This week has been such a shitty week, work wise---I've been working every single fucking waking minute and that's just playing catch up. OH GOD. The reality of all the stuff I have to do just catches up to me once every half hour and I spontaneously begin to sweat buckets.

Rachel's class was pretty cool though. She gave us an informal lecture, basically, on the business of illustration. And I am heaving a giant sigh of relief. Because I have faith in my work now---my portfolio isn't ready to show to clients quite yet, but it fucking will be in six months to a year, depending on my assignments and how much time I can devote to personal projects. I know I can make it, I know I can get myself to where I need to be. And after that, it is just a question of promotion. And while it's boring and tedious and time consuming, there is absolutely no secret magical skill involved in doing it. According to Rachel Salomon, if you want to be illustrating books and editorials (which I do, at least immediately after graduation) you go to Barnes and Noble and write down the name of the art producer of every single magazine and publishing company you can find. You are not done until you have AT LEAST 1500 to 2000 addresses. If you can afford, you pay Adlist 500 dollars and they give you that list all typed up with no searching on your part.

Then it is a question of making a promotional postcard with your website and info on it, and sending 2000 of these out once every three months. If you're good, like most MICA students should be by the time they graduate, you should be hearing from someone within a few months. Honestly, persistence is the best thing to have on your side. A good example of this would be Beau Sam, one of my colleagues. He is not that good, but he managed to land himself an internship with the art department of Vogue in New York last month because he is good enough and he showed them that he had the drive and ambition needed.

TBH, I'll probably start doing this long before graduation and probably long before I personally think my stuff is good enough. I want to get in the habit and I'd rather start building a list slowly and get my name out there, rather than do it all at once and have to wait for people to hear about me.

I definetly wont be doing so before my MKW mid-terms. I have to submit about 30 drawings by next wednesday for my theme; I'd like to do a couple of paintings (three, probably) on stretched canvas dealing with folklore and mythology. I need to go home and find my book of Russian mythology, and I'd like to do it in a very updated golden-age style (what else is new?) but with the emphasis on updated....maybe James Jean meets Dulac or something. It is a ton of work to do, and I know Jordan wanted to move out this weekend but he's going to be gone friday and saturday (because he has no limits with his family, or so Sarah says) and I have to go to the Small Press Expo saturday. I really don't see it happening. However, tonight is going to be a homework night. I plan on getting the bulk of next week's studio assignments completed tonight. That way I can focus on everything else over the weekend and over the next week.

I checked out a crapton of books to help with inspiration as well, including three books on victorian illustration, a book on the current illustration world, a book on themes in japanese art, and Maus I and II.

I can't actually remember the last time I had sex with Jordan. Shit. I'll probably want to do that tonight, as conditions are perfect and I'd like to be able to say "There, I had sex at least once this week with my live-in boyfriend." We are both so exhausted. And Jordan has low blood pressure, which means mornings are impossible. I don't mind so much---I'm grateful just to have him to cuddle up to at night and I'm just not at all interested in it during the day.

Not much to report. Swamped with work and muscling through midterms. It seems awfully early for them, but whaaaatever. Today I was able to get a lot of information on the various illustration and sequential art contests that are going on right now, plus I got some headway done on the Red Cygnet Press contest. There's one contest going on right now that is asking for a graphic novel submission, up to 30 pages. It would be *extremely* good publicity for me. Thing is I have no idea what I could do as a subject :(. Stories generally come to me without warning or explanation. Reaper was, of all things, born out of an Enya song. Actually seems like a lot of my ideas come from music. But I really have to work at Narrative, if I want a story to develop in a relatively short amount of time. This magazine is actually a fiction magazine, but without any preference for fantasy or edgy avant garde stuff. I can't see any past winners either. I couldn't do 30 pages in a month, obviously. 10 would probably be my max, I think. Arrrgh, I don't knoooow. Obviously this requires a lot of thought, and these days to tell you the truth I don't have much time to just sit down and idly think. My days are extremely structured and goal oriented, which is lovely most of the time since I'm in a constant state of production, but sometimes that can be too stressfull to allow myself to mull over things effectively.

In an effort to increase my productivity and the amount of time I have, I'm going to try and not read my f-list too much, so I might be scarce on the commenting.

Sports racers, if you've ever wanted to see me truly in action but were afraid to ask, now here's your chance---monday I was going to get lots of things done but instead I was the subject of a music video for Jordan's film project. Filming started at 2 pm. and finished a little after midnight, shot all out-doors. By about 11:30 I wanted to shove a baby through someone's chest, but I'm very excited to see how it turns out. I'm wearing ridiculously cupcakey clothing and have magical powers, and the only special effects used was time-lapse recording. The song was one I discovered earlier that day at the last minute over on Coilhouse, taken from the soundtrack of Amelie and made fifty times cooler by an up an comming finnish band. As we speak Jordan is in the editing room peicing the little three minute bastard together, downing red bulls and sleeping on four computer chairs pushed together only to wake up for class at 9 am. So, I am alone tonight, left to outline my Histrionics essay for tomorow and catch up on MKW homework.

Oh, and watch cockatoo videos:



*Edit:

further investigation has revealed: cockatoos speaking japanese: comedy gold.

And by the way, I've been meaning to ask, can anyone recommend to me some good sources of japanese historical fiction? Pre-Edo period, prefferably. I am almost totally unread in this genre and would love to discover any good fiction on the subject.

Victory is sweet.

Today we arrived at the con and Jordan threw money at me to go buy Guy Davis' sketchbooks that sold out yesterday. I found his table and waved 40 dollars at him, but Guy just smiled at me and said, "They're on the house, just send me a copy of your first published peice."

Oh God.

Rushed over to Carla's table and bought up the rest of "Finder", then found Jose at the top floor. When I arrived everybody kind of stopped talking and looked at me. Jose told me quietly, "Congradulations; all those people you talked to yesterday? They were talking about you when we all got together last night. They really like you and they *remember* you."

Then a few freshmen said, "Is it true Mignola showed your work to his editor all this other stuff?" And I was like, "Yeah, who told you about that?" "Uh, well, it's kindof been in the air above our heads for a while now." Then Zack showed up and was like, "Yeah, I came home last night and told everybody they were stupid for not going to the con and then I told them what happened with you, and everybody kind of crapped their pants." So, the few people he told about it told all their friends about it. Not that it was a secret---I'm way too excited about it to keep my mouth shut. But I don't want people to think I think I'm better than everybody else because of this. I firmly beleive that most of my colleagues in the department would have had the same results I did. I just seem to be the only one prepared to harass Jose until he tells me how to win at life. No body else brought their portfolios, much less business cards. This only happened to me because I made my work available to these people.

As proof that this is working, the hits on celineloupillustration.net skyrocketed from 0 to 23 today. >.> which sucks balls, because I happen to have nothing up there. I need to study for my midterm in History Mind and Conciousness tomorow, I need to haul ass on all the homework I put off to do this convention, and I need to pack all my shit up and move into the new apartment next weekend as we just signed the lease on it tonight. When am I going to have the time to upload my portfolio to my site? /bitchmoan

The talk with Bernie Wrightson was nice, and afterwards I met up with Heather and Jordan and some of his friends. We had lunch and talked about the new star trek movie (Young spock! OMG!). Then we went down to the dealer's room and I made a point of finding everyone I talked to yesterday and thanking them for taking the time to talk to me and give me advice. Which I think was a smart move; right? I'm hoping it'll help people remember who I am (and that I'm a grateful person in general). Scott Allie was there again and he told me to get his contact information from Jose, and that he would me to send him my work over the next two years, I am guessing to give me more detailed advice on improving my story telling skills. At some point we lost Jordan and we were looking for him, when suddenly Guy Davis, Mike Mignola, and that guy who writes BPRD walked right by and recognized me, and chatted me up for a few minutes like I'd just started working at Dark Horse. Both Heather and I froze and I tried to appear as nice and casual as possible, and as soon as they were gone I turned to Heather and she was gasping like some poor aquatic animal stranded on the shore. "You read their nametags, right?" Yes, yes she did.

We also spotted an artist drawing in a giant sketchbook full of Edward Scissorhands drawings this guy had taken around to all the tables. Some of the sketches were gorgeous, especially one I had Heather photograph. Made me seriously think about turning HWQtF into a webcomic.



We found Jordan on my way to the David Mack table and I stopped to say hello and thank David for all the free comics yesterday. I also verified his contact info, as there was some confusion there. David signed and gave Heather and Jordan some more free issues of his work, and we thanked him and left. A few feet away we were stopped by some guy who talked directly to me and was like, "Do you know the controversy about David Mack?" I thought, oh christ, here we go... and was like, yeah, I know about the tracing. I tried to remain neutral about it, but after the guy was done bitching about how offensive it was to him as an artist and this other bullshit, he left and I was like, "What an asshole."

Yes, the use of tracing and heavy reliance on photo ref. is kindof pathetic. But David obviously knows how to draw. He's just lazy. And unfortunately, every time I talk to him he might as well be signing checks to an orphanage and kissing a baby, he's so nice. He's an amazing story teller and it just makes you look like a douchebag if you're loitering around his table waiting for fans to come a safe distance away before pouncing on them with all this shit talk. Jordan said that it was like telling a kid that santa doesn't exist. Maybe we like the illusion.

Then we left, but not before making asses of ourselves for Heather.



Came home, took a nap, went to the new apartment. They're leaving the giant sewing table *squee!* so I get to have BOTH an art table and a sewing table! Awesome. Chris' wife is also letting me borrow her giant art deco vanity and her full-size art deco bed. If Jordan's mattress fits, we're set on that. My only worry is that a double might be too small for two people, I know Jordan hated sleeping in my bed in arnold and I think that was a double. Oh well, we can't bitch about free stuff. Signed the lease and went out to sushi hana to celebrate everything.

I've never felt so excited about my career before. I feel like my determination is paying off finally, and I know that I haven't even been working at 100 percent of my abilities. Imagine if I applied myself even more, what I could pull off in terms of artistic growth. I also think that this weekend hopefully showed Jose that I can be trusted and I do deserve his help, and maybe he will take getting an internship with James Jean (I finally said it; that was what I was shitting lava-kittens over a few entries back) much more seriously and with a lot more confidence. Jose sticks his neck out when he gets his students internships with his friends, and it's embarassing if the students dont measure up to Jose's praise.

Still, it's a little surreal. At the begining of the summer I only vaguely knew about Mignola and his work, and now not only have I fallen in love with Hellboy but the creator is taking *my* work to his editor. How does that even happen? In the span of three months, from reading the comic to getting my work praised by the creator. Somehow my universe makes a little less sense. Now I'm talking to Mignola and getting expensive sketchbook portfolios for free from Guy Davis and David Mack is personally going to foreward anything I send him to his editors, and Scott Allie is giving me his contact information. At the begining of the summer I felt like shit and thought my art would never ever get noticed and that I would fail at everything I tried to do, but somehow I tried to reassure myself that once junior year started something good would happen. Well, I guess this is it. I don't think I could have ever anticipated a break-through like this though.

*sigh* anyways, I'd better hit the books.

Much has happened. But all things are overshadowed by sweeping victory in one's chosen feild.

That is, I went to Comicon today.

I spent about an hour or so in line, feeling nervous as hell, hoping to god I wouldn't piss off these gods of the industry. I carefully dressed down, arming myself against dissapointment with an austere black frock coat and slim fit black pants. I had been up until two in the morning previously finishing the last touches on my book-end paintings, printing peices, and getting my business cards to match my website information. There was a crisis with the domain names, and I had to reprint them all to say celineloupillustration.net instead of dot com.

Finally I was in. I decided to visit my best chance, Carla Speed McNeil first. What an awesome way to start a day of networking. Carla lives about half an hour away at most, and looks and speaks exactly like Liv. Jose told me my best chance would be with her. She's hella into steampunk and uses markers to colaor her works, but because of her limited pallette she pulls it off. So, the portfolio crit went well. She is very impressed with both my digital skills and my watercolor skills, and was very open to the idea of hiring me as an intern for the summer. She says that if I will teach her how to use digital and watercolor, then she will let me observe the process of creating her comics and help me network. We exchanged cards and she gave me a free copy of a volume in her series, "Finder". Her work is beautiful and I think I will learn a lot about storytelling from her.

Actually, throughout the entire con people uniformly responded with "WOW!" whenever they opened up my portfolio. I got the distinct impression that no one was expecting work like mine, but that they were all really impressed with it. Most people said I should be teaching THEM how to draw and paint, and that is coming from big name professionals (even Guy Davis said that----holy SHIT). Many of them said that I was already at the professional level and ready to print, and that if this was what I am doing now then I would be incredible by graduation.

I stopped by Dave Kellet's table to pick up a copy, at long last, of "How to Make Webcomics" which has gotten a lot of great reviews. I figured it was a good investment since half the people I spoke to urged me to start making webcomics ASAP. Kellet and his table buddies also had a jaw-drop moment over my portfolio, and at this point I was feeling like the whole thing was really surreal. I came here expecting to be brushed off and ignored, or at worse laughed at. Instead, I found myself talking to MIKE MIGNOLA and hearing him tell me how gorgeous my peices were. Then suddenly Mignola asked me if he could take my portfolio to his editor, Scott Allie of Dark Horse. I handed it to him, wondering if I was really just having a psychotic episode. Suddenly Mignola was gone, my portfolio with him, leaving about 20 fans with their copies of Hellboy and BPRD confused and irritated. Five minutes later Mignola was back, telling me that Scott wanted to see me later.

What.



WHAT.


Guy Davis congradulated me and I got to tell him how his work was on of the fundamental influences that made me want to make comics when I was 12. I saw him a few more times as the lines dried up. We exchanged cards and he told me if he knew of anyone looking for an intern he would let me know, and that if I had any questions about the business I should email him.

Then I talked to David Mack. Who is just as nice as everyone says he is, even if he DOES trace. It seems like my world opened up to these people every time I mentioned that I was a students of Jose's. Then the look of dread vanished from their faces and there was the expectation that if we were both friends of Jose's, surely my work was to be taken seriously. David Mack was extremely impressed with my work and told me to send him updates and that he would love to foreward my work to his editors. Then he signed and gave me SIX ISSUES of Kabuki for free.

I talked to Jeff Lemire over at top shelf, who loved my work as well and told me to talk to HIS editor. Then he gave me one of his books, "Tales from the Farm" for free. His editor, Chris Staros, told me to polish up my story telling and start pumping out short peices to give to editors like him. Make sure to make the books really gorgeous, like a silk screen cover and stuff, so that an editor wont be tempted to throw it away.

Finally I talked to Scott Allie, the editor of Dark Horse comics and the power behind Mignola's Hellboy and Umbrella Academy. He looked again through my portfolio and told me to contact him sometime post-grad if I was still interested in comics. He gave me tips on polishing up my stuff and that my illustrative technique was perfect but that for comics I was still new and so I should keep pushing myself to practice.

Filip Sablik of Top Cow (witchblade, it seems) really liked my stuff and told me I should definetly come to Los Angeles to intern at Top Cow.

I paid for only one book today, yet I came home with a satchel full of comics and pockets full of other people's business cards. (I wonder if its not just because of my portfolio----is it because I'm a girl as well?)

I know what I need to do now.

* Set up the website so that people actually have something to look at.

* Outline and execute as many short comics as I can and later bundle them into one book, to be printed and distributed at next year's comic-con. (contact Chris Staros and maybe send him packages of these)

* Set up a slightly longer (but not too long) story to become a web-comic.

* Contact Carla about interning with her this summer.

*Keep in touch with David Mack and Guy Davis.

I think I need to make sure that I am producing a somewhat steady stream of material so that people can see how fucking FAST I can work and how I can evolve. I need to learn the art of story telling with sequential images.

This is perfect.

Holeeee crap, so much has happened. List time: the only proper response.

* Jordan and I had a rare evening out to the paper moon diner so Jordan could discuss his film project with his partner, Grey (awesome name). Grey brought his girlfriend, Kaley, who is a speech pathologist doing her post-grad at Loyola. I was dressed for warmth and style, but I just felt a little outrageous that night so the outfit consisted of a giant black velvet skirt, the tight buckled collared leather jacket that fits me like a second skin, giant hoop earings, black leather newsboy, and thigh-high black leather stilleto winklepickers. Those boots, by the way, I have never worn out of the house till that night, and my god they are comfortable! I could totally do a full day of class in those boots, and I have never before been able to wear stilletoes without dying. I looked kindof scary and castrating but Kaley didn't bat an eye. In return I was the good socialite and made awesome conversation.

"So Kaley, have you read anything good lately?"

"Well, I've really gotten into this series, it's written for a much younger age group but it just sucked me in..."

"Does it start with 'Twi' and end in 'light'?"

"How did you know!!"

Bowtie pasta with marinara, garlic bread, and a cesare salad. Mmm.

* Uuuuuuh, we're breaking the lease on the apartment and moving into a better place. Much better. As of today. Star Management told us, after we were done asking them to come here and change the lightbulbs for the millionth time, that our rent in fact is 675 a month not including utilities, and that they have misplaced our tennant information sheet but that it doesn't matter as they have a no-subletting policy and that it should have been Sheldon's policy as well.

Ohkaaaay. Well, since Will and Laura told us the rent was 600 a month, and since we're not even supposed to BE here, and since this apartment is really shitty and not up to code, why not find a bigger, better apartment for the same amount that we can stay in until I graduate college?

We did just that. Today. A quick look at the MICA forum revealed this:

APARTMENT IN EUTAW PLACE BROWNSTONE, massive 1,500 square ft apt. (the entire third floor) in owner-occupied home in the prettiest/safest - 2400 block in Reservoir Hill. Water view from front bay window (Druid Lake). Hardwood floors, stained glass, high ceilings, fireplace mantels, Victorian grandeur!

Huge bathroom with clawfoot tub. Spacious, light-filled front room could be an art studio. Cats are ok. Prefer nonsmoker - but if smoker, no smoking allowed in the house(there is a back balcony). Tenant history/refs/security deposit required. $800/month includes all utilities.


Mom came over and we discussed the situation. Mom was the one who had the idea to just break the lease; I just happened to be on a whim looking at what was available for the spring semester. We called the guy up and he told us it was fine to come look at the place right then. So we all got in the car and drove up eutaw (it's a little ways past North Avenue). Jordan has pictures which he will give me sometime tonight to upload, but I can say that I was pretty much instantly sold.

The building has three floors and was built in 1895. The family who owns the building use the first two floors. They have two children: I got to meet their five year old girl, Zelda. She is awesome and weird and spent much of the time crawling after us on the floor beneath a giant black towel, pretending to be a footstool if we looked in her direction. The apartment was filled floor to ceiling with books and antiques and Klimt, Tadema, Watteau, and Mucha reproductions, along with dozens of antique photographs and ladies' advertisements. The place was gorgeous. Apparently the wife (whom I have not met yet) was very interested that I was an illustration major; Chris mentioned something about wanting a babysitter slash art-teacher for Zelda. Yes please. These people are in love with victorian architecture and restoration, and their taste in art mirrors my own almost exactly. The chance to live above them for the next two years is one I can't pass up.

The apartment itself is ridiculously spacious. The kitchen will be able to accomodate a dining room table so that we won't be eating on a couch anymore. We have a balcony just outside the kitchen although it's in pretty bad shape. The bathroom is bigger than my kitchen here. There's a living room and a bedroom with bay windows, and spacious hallways. All the rooms on the floor have windows, and some of them indeed do have stained glass. It's not furnished so we'll have to buy a couple of book-cases, a table and chairs to eat at, possibly a couch, and definetly a bed. We'll also have to stock the kitchen with dishes and cutlery.

I'm just not sure how the hell I am supposed to pack up all my belongings and move into this place before Oct. 1st and keep up with all my school work. I'll also have to start riding my scooter to class. It's just a little scary to think about. Goading me on is the thought of steady internet access, space, privacy, and the chance to live in the same place in peace and quiet until I graduate.

Okay, pictures.

( Pump, pump, pump that area )

It's actually really cute. Normally Jordan is the type who is very clean minded, but now he is very concerned about how this move will affect our sex life. With young children living below us, we don't want to come home to any surprise traumatized little girls holding my strap-on with trembling hands. Security is important. We're hoping noise won't be a problem---at this point I'm pretty sure anyone passing our current apartment at certain times of the day has gotten an earful :( Damn these window units! The best though is Jordan's bed-shopping. He's very very concerned with finding an Ikea bed that has stable supports able to withstand strong rocking motions.

* Earlier that day I went to several yard sales. The whole of park avenue was having one, it was really awesome. I got a bunch of baby toys for Bibi to destroy, a publisher's market for children's illustration (awesome), the sequel to Bridget Jone's Diary, a bright blue knitted cap with fun pink buttons (see above pictures for a glimpse) a sheer pink lacy shirt, and a pair of amazing flats for 6 bucks.

* After seeing the new apartment we came home and I worked on my character development homework. It turned out REALLY well. I need to recharge my camera and upload it to DA, but I think this is really going to be a hit.

* Today I went to class. Dr. Vecchio talked about Thomas Aquinas. I'm not really sure what V's beleifs are, but jesus Aquinas was a bastard. I can't beleive the catholic church is all about his theories! All of these ways to "prove" the existence of God is such bullshit and I'm suddenly seeing where Daniel got a lot of fodder for his moral high-horse to eat. Aquinas was probably a closeted homosexual, given his hatred of women, saying that women cannot emulate christ fully as Jesus was a man and therefore men are superior both intellectually and spiritually. I don't care if Jesus was the son of god. He also has a mom, who was, yes, a WOMAN, and christ would not have been born in the first place were it not for her. No matter how superior men like Aquinas think they are, they still would be nothing more than a tiny anonymous sperm in their father's testicles were it not for their mothers bearing them to life.

Without the embarassingly self-loathing homosexual undertones, these heirarchies of existence bore the hell out of me. Then again, insecure men often can't think outside of heirarchical terms, they are so concerned with where they "measure up" compared to everything else.

God is not at the top of the tower and plants at the bottom. There is no tower, and nearest I can tell, God is more like a net than a tower, and we are like beads strung on the strands. We are droplets of water on the web that is God, and on a subatomic level, we exist without boundaries from this web. We are like tiny bacteria living in the colon of a great animal, beleiving ourselves to be far more important than we actually are, and yet without our existence the great animal we are a part of ceases to exist in the same way. That makes more sense to *me*. My idea is probably totally off the mark, but I know there are definetly wrong theories about god, and Aquinas seems as likely as saying that God is really just a bearded old guy hiding whenever a plane passes by. I don't claim to be a great observer of human beings, but from what I have seen we are possibly the most out of harmony and therefore the *lowest* on the "heirarchy". Animals and plants generally do exactly what they are supposed to do; they are very good at fulfilling their functions. What could be more simple and perfect than a tree in its vegetative state? Why do we insist that we are higher life-forms than plants and animals? We are as close to god in our 'goodness' as a virus is. We struggle far more than plants and animals because we are self aware and powerful, but generally we live very unbalanced lives. How does this make us the nobler species?

* After class I did some errands with Mom. Jordan doesn't seem to understand the idea of wanting to do something mundane with a family member just for the sake of spending time with them. *rolls eyes* As it turns out, Mom hasn't been feeling very happy and actually goes through periods of pretty extreme depression and low-self esteem. I want her to talk to Sarah and see if she can see either her or another trusted doctor. Since my great-grandmother the parottas have been improving in terms of neuroticism and anxiety, we've come a long way, but in general I've always thought of my mom being a little worse off than I was. I really want her to feel better. She cheered up over spring rolls and politics; she explained to me how we are on the brink of a stock market crash comparable to the one in 1929. All the conservatives are panicking, and the dems are saying "you base an economy on conservative ideals, sooner or later the fed is going to have to bail you out and you get what you've been most afraid of all this time: socialism!!!" Obviously this totally changes the goals on either side of the aisle; universal health care won't happen. The secretary of the treasury gave a private conference on the situation to congress, basically saying "We are fucked no matter how we respond to this crisis. But we still need to figure out a way to get a little less fucked." Mom is convinced that we are facing a huge depression that will really get under way in the next couple of weeks as the domino effect spreads and the giant mortage brokers collapse one by one.

* We bought a full motorcycle helmet and chain. I was wearing a fifties pink dress and pink and grey stripey socks with flats.....I'm not sure I could have felt more awkward in the motorcycle dealership. We then went back to my parent's house and I tried practicing on the moped a bit. Well, as soon as I kicked up the stand the bike fell over and I had to pull it back up off the ground. Then I got cornered at the end of the driveway and the plumber who was working outside had to help me pick it up and turn it around. I don't know if I can honestly drive this thing if I can't lift the back end! Agh, it was pretty embarassing. Dad says there's a trick to it that he'll teach me, but he's so busy I don't know when it'll happen.

* bah. Chris says he wants an extra hundred a month for the apartment since jordan will be there. That means an extra 50 a month for him. The rent will go back to 800 once he leaves for LA of course. Since my parents are going to be furnishing the house they're hoping he'll be willing to pay the money; I left a message on his phone. He comes back in like an hour or two so we can talk about it then.

And that's kindof it. I need to first get my ATCs ready to ship, since they're due in a week, and then I need to figure out what I'm going to bring in to show brian tomorow so I can get his input for the comic*con portfolio. Then I'll maybe do my bug painting for media kitchen.