I've struggled to draw anything in recent months, overcome with a malaise I couldn't kick. Nothing creative was coming out of me and my previous comic project stalled.
So I'm no longer going to fight the malaise. I'm going to embrace my despair and draw comics about that despair.
If you're not of a political bent or you lean to the American right, this probably isn't the comic for you.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
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.
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Sorry to read you've been down Schlock,
do whatever you need to ... art / fret / scream.
... also ... do take care of yourself.
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