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Hello, all!
I'm on an indefinite Twitter sabbatical, and about to nuke my Facebook account from orbit. Twitter, while much fun, was sapping all my interest in journaling and writing, and for little return. Facebook's just a mess of greed and privacy...issues. (The same way having a tear away boob flap is a "wardrobe malfunction.")
Twitter and Facebook were also sapping my will to create, and I'll share why so maybe it'll help someone else:
Because it made me feel like shit.
A constant feed of other people's successes, when one is struggling to get a couple books finished and out, is really disheartening. It's not the fault of the people doing well, subjecting myself to it was all my own doing. On the other hand, reading complaining about another trip to another awesome show was really getting up my ass and dying. Diamond shoes a bit tight?
I know, having been on the deadline/show/family trainwreck that it's not all fun, and venting is a part of that. But the whinging seems ungrateful. Then I have to ask myself why it bothers me so much, and is it because I'm ungrateful? Why do I care, even? That time is better spent making comics. ANY time spent worrying about other people's stuff or being envious is better spent making comics. Hell, it's better spent washing dishes or scrubbing a toilet. Thos things do affect your quality of life.
Anyway, I'm back. I'll be Tweeting again, but not like a did before. There was a lot of interesting things I could've shared here that I chose to make ephemeral.
Like how I can't hang anything without making twice as many hole as are needed.
Like how I love my new place and that the exta holes equal extra charm.
Like how you can rehabilitate nasty-looking but otherwise fine plastic kitchen tools.
Like delicious bread made from a goopy dough.
Like how I'm doing a four-page story for Marvel's Girl Comics with the last two characters you'd expect me to use, and that the editor, Jeanine Schafer, is a doll.
I'm on an indefinite Twitter sabbatical, and about to nuke my Facebook account from orbit. Twitter, while much fun, was sapping all my interest in journaling and writing, and for little return. Facebook's just a mess of greed and privacy...issues. (The same way having a tear away boob flap is a "wardrobe malfunction.")
Twitter and Facebook were also sapping my will to create, and I'll share why so maybe it'll help someone else:
Because it made me feel like shit.
A constant feed of other people's successes, when one is struggling to get a couple books finished and out, is really disheartening. It's not the fault of the people doing well, subjecting myself to it was all my own doing. On the other hand, reading complaining about another trip to another awesome show was really getting up my ass and dying. Diamond shoes a bit tight?
I know, having been on the deadline/show/family trainwreck that it's not all fun, and venting is a part of that. But the whinging seems ungrateful. Then I have to ask myself why it bothers me so much, and is it because I'm ungrateful? Why do I care, even? That time is better spent making comics. ANY time spent worrying about other people's stuff or being envious is better spent making comics. Hell, it's better spent washing dishes or scrubbing a toilet. Thos things do affect your quality of life.
Anyway, I'm back. I'll be Tweeting again, but not like a did before. There was a lot of interesting things I could've shared here that I chose to make ephemeral.
Like how I can't hang anything without making twice as many hole as are needed.
Like how I love my new place and that the exta holes equal extra charm.
Like how you can rehabilitate nasty-looking but otherwise fine plastic kitchen tools.
Like delicious bread made from a goopy dough.
Like how I'm doing a four-page story for Marvel's Girl Comics with the last two characters you'd expect me to use, and that the editor, Jeanine Schafer, is a doll.
