This was a surprisingly long weekend, even though it was only two days. I had multiple stops over the two-day span, which is why.
The first stop was Copacetic Comics Company, on Dobson Street in Pittsburgh. I was worried that I would have to pay for parking (because city life), but I found a space around the corner.
A while back I had called Copacetic to ask some questions about author appearances and consignments, and somehow I forgot that Bill (the man on the phone) said the store was on the 3rd floor of the building. So I was a bit surprised to see Kaibur Coffee on the ground floor. I had to approach the building to be sure I found the right space.
Turns out – yep, I found it. So I went up the narrow blue staircase, past posters of indie bands, local theater productions, and guest lectures, and found THIS:
Continue reading “Punks, Comics, and Feminist Zine Fest Pittsburgh”
The neo-Nazi and white supremacist riots in Charlottesville, VA happened this last weekend. You cannot deny it no matter how many anti-Antifa posts you see (which, thanks to Snopes, we know those anti-Antifa posts are fabricated). You also cannot deny it no matter how many times you say “but I have a black (insert indirect personal connection here).”
Charlottesville is a culmination of many forces, some brewing over the last 60 years, some brewing over the last 8 months. But it happened, and now we are here.
It’s ok to be angry. It’s ok to be a little (or very) scared.
Do not let those emotions change who you are. You are more than anger and fear.
Fear is a luxury we cannot afford anymore.
Now is the time to take a stand and do the right things. And believe it or not, you (the United States citizen) have the ability to do something to make a difference.
Here’s a short list of things you can do: Continue reading “What You Can Do After Charlottesville”
I was trimming my mini-comics and mini-sketchbooks the other day and had the idea to turn the camera on while I did that. That way you can see a time lapse of how I prepare my mini-comics AND listen to a song I made a while ago, called “The Callback Kids.”
I used to play Taiko when I was in college, as part of the on-campus group Hayabusa Taiko. I had taken music lessons before Taiko, like guitar, flute, and clarinet, but nothing stuck with me more than Taiko.
If you like what you hear, and want to hear more Taiko-inspired songs, please let me know in the comments below.
Thanks for watching!
You. Are. Awesome.
I’m writing this open letter to unfurl some things that have been on my mind for the last week. I hope you find something in this that resonates with you and helps to keep you going.
First, things are going to get better. This will sound unbelievable, especially in this new and uncertain time where Nazis are coming out of the ash pile, Betsy DeVos is destined to ruin public education, and Trump is calling any judge who opposes his Muslim ban, essentially, an unpatriotic American. But things will get better. In some ways, things are already better. Continue reading “An Open Letter to the American People”
It started all the way back in high school.
Stick with me a second.
Throughout middle school I mostly listened to metal, so it wasn’t until high school that I began to branch out from that genre into others. High school, for instance, gave me a healthy appreciation of hip hop and alternative rock.
In high school the punk I heard was largely pop punk and whatever was popular at Hot Topic at the time – which was YellowCard, Blink 182, and Coheed & Cambria when I came on the scene.
However, I DID like the visual aesthetic of punk. One of my classmates, let’s call him Pete, was a hard core punk and drew album art for bands. Really grotesque stuff, like fat pimpled babies with extra limbs. That made me more aware of art outside of Disney and manga, that’s for sure.
I was intrigued. Eventually I hitched a ride to the Ohio Governor’s Youth Art Exhibition with one of the friends of Pete on a trip to Columbus (our work was in the first round of judging). Well he misread the directions and we ended up in Short North, the artsy district of the city. And there, we stopped at a magnificent record store, called (I shit you not) Magnolia Thunderpussy. Continue reading “How I Grew Into Punk”