Comics Are Crazy Expensive

I’ve worked in the comics field on and off for years; as a dealer and seller, manager of a couple of comic book shops, and even as a sales manager for a small comic book publisher. I’ve drawn my own comics, published my own comics, written LOC that have been published in comics and comic-related publications, and even had a brief career as an online comics pundit columnist a few years ago.

I have since left the field, both as merchant as well as retailer, and have happily embraced a newish career but…I still love comics. I love the medium, but…but…I find that I’m much less interested in the nostalgic titles I enjoyed as a kid and the characters of both Marvel and DC are simply no longer being marketed to appeal to an older guy (60+) like myself.

The typical comic book these days runs, if you’re fortunate, about $2.99. More often $3.50 or $3.99. Sure, the quality of the paper is better, the production values have improved, but seriously…$3 for something like 15 minutes at best of entertainment? Much as I might miss the travails of Spider-man, Batman, I simply can’t justify spending that kind of money for a simple flimsy comic book.

Fortunately, there is an alternative with the library, remainder sales at bookstores of graphic novels or collections, or even were I to brave the tech effort, reading them pirated online. ┬áStill, I’ve become more of a book reader these days, whether from I’d bookstores or the library or even on my iPad with ebooks.

I gotta admit that I sometimes miss reading these comics, but when I drift toward this type of media, I lean towards other genres besides superhero–crime, true life, sci-fi, and Image Comics is publishing some of the best material out there, hands down.

So. I got over expensive comics. I simply don’t buy them. I do without. After having been a crazed collector from the age of 13…after nearly 50 years, I found I simply have outgrown a lot of it. Oh, not the medium itself, just the price points…and maybe even supeheroics.

And that’s crazy.


Women I See


I love women. Not only the obvious physical aspect, but all the rest of their selves which, upon reflection, makes the entire package more attractive and interesting to me. I reflect on how it seems that women often worry about their appearance, be it based on a wrong-headed notion of what our culture deems sexy or perfect, so let me say unequivocally that you are perfect the way you are.

Muffin tops? Hair that doesn’t shine? Small breasts? Puh-lease. You’re just fine. Relax.

Barkada Bakery Cafe

I’m really going to try to get my sketch mojo back with regular daily drawing. Here at Barkada Bakery and Cafe on Telegraph I had a relaxed day drinking espresso.

The tables were slices of redwood burlwood. My wife was busy surfing the web, a muscular black man in the background, and a grandma further back.


The Pain of Art

Oh, hell, its got nothing to do with being an artist or a ‘drawer’ type of person, its a combination of god knows what as I stumble toward six decades…

1) kidney stone is a real bother; and no doubt will soon need another procedure at the hospital to remove the blockage from my ureter…a ureteroscopy. Google it if you dare. Probably will have this done in a week or two.

2) with my mother’s impending transition…death…however you call it, my reaction to this has been much more physical than mental: lower back pains, cramping, and I’m really unable to walk much more than about five minutes before the discomfort pushes me to rest. I’ve got an appointment with the physical therapist to help with stretching and the like. God! If I still weighed another 30 lbs like I did last year at this time…it would be worse, I’m sure. And it’s still unclear if this is simply ancillary to the kidney stone or simply a part of my general stress reaction to my Mom’s imminent death.

3) I’ve cried very little in the past few weeks, so other than a general melange of sadness and not-
quite-depression (call ‘me the blues) I’ve manifested my Mom’s circumstances in my back.

4) when my Mom finally passes, then I enter all the new territory of actual bereavement, possible tears and emotional release…not certain why I’ve somehow held it in, but that’s me, I guess. I’d rather weep like a baby rather than feel incapacitated by muscular pain.

5) of course, rounding this out is the bit of arthritis an x-ray revealed in my lower left back. I can’t believe that it would manifest this suddenly so I’m still guessing that my stress gets held in my ‘weakest’ area. Hmm.

What does all this have to do with scribblings! Not a fucking thing.


Tribu and Lindgren Cafe Sketches

While with my wife at Lindgren and alone at Tribu, I sketched. The female at the table was at Lindgren’s. One of these women was outside Peet’s Coffee on Fourth Street as I recall (Asian with glasses) and the Afro-chick came out of my imagination after a similarly endowed woman walked in–and walked out. Her bootay inspired my drawing.




Ostensibly, the primary purpose of this blog was to motivate me to draw more, so that on some level the presence of a ‘public’ face that this blog represents, would press me to draw more. In this, it has worked quite well and in this I am well pleased (not trying to sound like Jesus there), so when I include drawings done that are less than current, I feel in part like I’m cheating a little bit.

So, again–if you (and you know who you are) see ‘old art’, feel free to call me on it.

The drawing below is mildly interesting in that it was originally done in pencil, scanned and imported to my iPad app procreate where I applied color. Fwiw I will be making more sketches in current times rather than mining the older stuff.


From The Juricich Sketchbooks

A couple of pages from drawings done over the course of the past couple of years, while I avoided/struggled with doing comics, doing simple sketching was still my capability.


And here, also from Friday night at home, my wife at the kitchen table scratching away at a Linotype etching. Me? Well, I was drawing her, naturally.