The last few days have been almost insultingly flat in terms of desire and ability to ‘make stuff’. I’ve eked out a couple of posts about tv and so on, but each time I’ve sat down to draw a comic of any kind, I’ve either rebounded from the chair like it was electrocuted or gradually slumped until my forlorn head was resting on the keyboard, defeated.

Which makes me ask my brain and general psyche: what the hell, man? I haven’t really come up with a solution, either. Berating myself hasn’t been all that effective, though it can be grimly satisfying. The whole “just leave it alone and it will come” (like the anti-Field of Dreams or something) is also proving rather ineffective.

It’s not for lack of ideas, either – I have a pretty reasonable sized backlog of subjects for drawings or comics, just not the ability to draw them, it seems. At base, my current block seems to relate to a burning hatred of my abilities with a pen/tablet – that classic problem of not being able to draw something the way you want it to look. Could there be a more impotent rage? I think not.

It’s worse, too, when you’ve regressed, as I have, to the point of not even knowing how you want it to look. Then it’s just all rage all the time.

8 July 2010
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