health

MSP Fallcon 2019

Posted in health, work on October 13th, 2019 by Jin Wicked – Comments Off on MSP Fallcon 2019

The leaves on the trees around my home are all turning crimson, orange, and gold in their most jarring and short-lived transition of the year — summer into fall. Unlike the gradual, sleepy-slow unfurling of spring after the winter’s melt, fall explodes into colours which are gone almost as suddenly as they appear. We have already had our first light dusting of snow. The radiators bubble and whistle, as the daylight hours grow ever-shorter. Winter is coming.

Stephen and I made an appearance together for LionCon in Saint Cloud, MN. It suffered from unfortunately dismal attendance, due to location and multiple venue changes, but as a result I got some forced rest. The drive up and hotel were comfortable, and it was great to see my new booth layout with the pipe and drape. The evening weather was perfect for walking downtown.

Jin Wicked at LionCon

The headaches I was frequently suffering over the summer have mostly gone away since getting my new glasses. (The frames I am wearing in the picture below were purchased when I lived in Minnesota back in 2000 — I had them re-lensed.) My vision had indeed become a bit worse, which is a real problem with the volumes of drawing, reading small texts and screens, and otherwise over-working my eyes that I do relentlessly. I am probably actively worsening my vision by doing these things, but it is an inevitable hazard of the job(s).

Jin Wicked at MSP Fallcon 2019

All of my accounting and book-keeping is finally, completely, totally up-to-date and fixed. All necessary documents have been amended and filed. Everything possible that can be automated is now automated. Such a shadow was lifted by finally overcoming that task. I will have 2019’s filings ready in January!

Earlier this summer, I was also starting to suffer persistent back pain from my day job, a very common occurrence in care-giving. It took about two or three weeks of conscious and deliberate effort to retrain myself to squat instead of bending at the waist or twisting, but I have seen dramatic results. I basically get paid to do dozens of body-weight squats per day! My core and legs have noticeably strengthened, as transfers have become easier. Especially-so for bodies my size or slightly larger. Perhaps some day I shall achieve my dreams of comforting the sick and dying, while being strong enough to crush a man’s skull between my thighs. I mean… a watermelon. Crush a watermelon.

Jin Wicked at MSP Fallcon 2019

We had a wonderful MSP Fallcon this year! The convention started with a cold and rainy morning, but traffic rallied around noon, and stayed strong right up until close. The energy was good, and I made enough money to take some of the sting out my large LionCon loss. Special thanks to my friend Michael, who helped with photography! I was able to get the photos uploaded and tagged (for as many as I could!) on Facebook by the following Monday night.

I have been privileged this year to assist with the promotional materials and T-shirt layouts for the convention. Alongside the other contributing designers, I would like to bring a more unified appearance and voice to the convention. I was able to assist with the website for this fall show as well, and am looking forward to making further improvements over the winter for spring. I hope to expand the convention’s footprint across the Internet and social media. Over the course of setup and during the show, I spent a few hours collecting cards and getting to know my fellow creators a little better. I LOVED the eagerness from everyone, excited to share with me what they enjoy most about tabling at the show! Their communication and feedback is essential to promoting the individual creators and the show as a whole. A rising tide lifts all boats.

I am so grateful for the opportunity to give back to this show which has given so much to me, and which has become like my family and adoptive home.

I am also grateful for the opportunity to grow my leadership skills.

Jin Wicked at MSP Fallcon 2019

Mark, Root, and I have also been working more regularly on the COMIC BROS Podcast we record together, including a newly-revamped logo and illustrative episode teasers. I am especially proud of Mark and Root’s efforts in Houston, where they have organized a “Drink and Draw” meetup, become regulars at local shows, and engaged in other community activities. Root has been doing a remarkable job with the COMIC BROS Instagram feed, Facebook page, and blog. Mark has done great interview work! Also on Twitter and Youtube.

I talk some about my evolving personal goals in this month’s episode.

For the next three weeks, I will be working on sketch cards in preparation for Grand Rapids Comic-Con, my final show of the season. After I return, I will be taking a break from conventions until MSP Springcon 2020 next May, to focus on producing my next two books, certification for HHA/CNA, and my volunteer work. This was a year that has been about outwardly-facing energies for me, and personal battles, which I will write more about over time. Now that I feel like I have reached a situation of authenticity and stability, I am ready to turn my attention inward and move on to the next phase in my development.

Please consider supporting my Patreon if you are not already.

On Fear, Vol 2

Posted in general, health, politics on October 12th, 2019 by Jin Wicked – Comments Off on On Fear, Vol 2

“The cynics may be the loudest voices – but I promise you, they will accomplish the least.” – Barack Obama

This was originally written in my reflective early-morning hours as a Facebook post, but I wanted to preserve it here as an addendum to my previous post about fear. One of the fears I have struggled most with is feeling silenced — by intimidation and fear of criticism. This is not limited strictly to politics, but to negative experiences and traumas I have had as well. The inability to discuss many things I have been going through has been psychologically devastating for me, as a person whose main avenue of expression and understanding my world is through my artwork and comics. Victim-blaming is still pervasive even among “enlightened” and “woke” people. In several cases my traumas, and efforts to mentally reconcile doing “the right thing” while understanding what happened to me, have not only been minimized and invalidated, but actually turned into a running joke and/or used an as excuse to abuse me further.

Until recently, I have been flailing around in this no-man’s-land of denial, self-blame, being told how I feel and how I remember things is not correct, being told who I am, being told what is wrong with me — you get the idea.

I have also surpressed a lot of anger out of a desire to be “nice” and “good” and “liked” when I had real, legitimate reasons to be upset. Unfortunately for those who have attempted to gaslight me (and for me gaslighting myself), in the process of learning healthy conflict and building a loving relationship with Steve, I now have a much better-calibrated gauge for recognizing abuse.

I don’t like thinking of myself as a victim. This has been a process.

The irony is realizing the things you thought you wanted, were never worth it in the first place, and only looked appealing through the warped perspectives of the past. Authenticity sets you free. Onward and upward…


“There are a lot of politics in the Lunch Break archive.

It was something I used to be very passionate about. I grew up in a right-wing household. I listened to Rush Limbaugh until the early 2000s. It wasn’t until I left Texas, and started spending time in Canada and with people from other countries, that I started to question the things I had always believed.

I got a lot of angry and hateful feedback for my criticisms of the Bush administration and evangelical Christianity. But most of the things I was ‘over-reacting’ about back then have become noticeably, undeniably worse and/or more extreme. I do feel a little bit, just a little bit, vindicated here.

I don’t hate religion. I’m an atheist that somewhat regularly goes to Catholic Mass. I try to live by certain values I admire — love your neighbour, turning the other cheek, helping those less fortunate. Things Christians give a lot of really vocal lip service to — but precious few actually walk the walk.

I was a delegate for President Obama’s campaign in the 2008 primary fight against Hillary Clinton. I don’t really have strong feelings about Hillary, but I am not much a fan of political dynasties, either. That was a bitter fight.

Obama turned out to be not much better than Bush, if at least better-spoken and more Presidential. I suppose I am a disillusioned Millennial.

I’ve stayed away from politics for a long time — mainly because I was going through too much of my own shit, and just too tired to argue anymore.

Sometimes it is so tempting to give in to nihilism and hedonism.

But the ‘right’ path is rarely the ‘easy path.’ And the ‘status quo’ is also rarely the right path, being easy — it’s much easier, and less scary, to fight change rather than embrace it. It is much easier to lie to ourselves about the dangers of greenhouse gases and environmental pollution, than to endure the inconvenience and disruption of systemic change.

It much easier to lie to ourselves that the poor and downtrodden did something to deserve their bad fortune, even though the whole game is rigged to funnel ever-more wealth to the top. You literally cannot win.

Decades of trickle-down economics; the gas-lighting of the working class.

Centuries of racism, sexism, xenophobia, social wedge issues, and union-busting to keep the working class busy fighting each other.

But the ability to be apathetic towards politics is, itself, a privilege.

So this teenager, this young woman, Greta, comes — and she speaks before the world with a great deal of passion about something she believes in. She wants all of the things that I have been told, since childhood, are unquestioningly good — a clean, healthy planet for future generations. Unpolluted water to drink. Clear air to breathe. Sustainability.

And I would be lying if, when I watched her speak, I didn’t see some of myself — a young, idealistic person full of life, before the darkness and depression dragged me under. She has not yet cracked. She is stronger than I was. She has endured far more nastiness than I ever have.

And I also see something I have long been unwilling to acknowledge — the depths to which people will go to preserve their comfortable lies and inertia. The ugliness. The level of hatred, of venom, of dismissiveness, of mockery — for someone who, whether you like it or not, whether you agree with her or not — is trying to make a positive difference in the world.

And then I saw all of the adults who told me to sit down, shut up, stay in my place — a little differently. I saw all of the people who have tried to silence me through the same methods used on her — a little differently.

I saw through the loathing. I saw the fear.

When you realize the people you were afraid of — were actually afraid of you all along — of change, of something inside you, of something they avoid in themselves, of something you represent. I think that’s when you really discover your internal seat of power. The enemy is always fear.

Fear of failure. Fear of exposure. Fear of the other. Fear of judgement. Fear of vulnerability. Fear of pain. Fear of loss. Fear of change.

I don’t have a good answer, beyond encouraging everyone to leave their comfort zone, and do the inner work to sit with and confront their fears.

It has taken me almost forty years to finally stand up for myself.

It has taken me almost forty years to stand up to fear.

2008-02-19 Barack Obama

2008-03-03 Barack Obama

On Fear

Posted in general, health on September 12th, 2019 by Jin Wicked – Comments Off on On Fear

“Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live.” – Dorothy Thompson

Since returning from San Diego Comic-Con, I have been deeply into one of my more inward-looking phases. I am working on a much longer written piece, to accompany an illustraton I have been slowly inking. I also have been focused on cleaning up the minor accumulation of “mess” in my office since earlier this year, and picked up where I left off last fall correcting my book-keeping.

My book-keeping is/was the last major obstacle standing in my way — while I am not really afraid of it, it had snowballed into quite an intimidating problem. The difference after being on ADHD medication for half of a year is incredible. This overwhelming task that has been dogging me for years, which I had put off time and time again due to honestly being unable to handle it — Sunday, I said, “It’s time!” sat down, and bulldozed most of it within a few hours.

I really do not think it is possible to adequately explain to someone, who has not experienced it — how life-changing it is to do what you want to do, when you want to do it. To not be slave to your own thoughts and distractions like a puppet on a string, or constantly at battle with your own impulses.

In the spring of 2018, on one of my regular trips to the Goodwill, I found this jacket printed with butterflies. “This is important,” I thought, like the mashed-potato-guy in Close Encounters. I have had a mild phobia of butterflies since I was a child, which is obviously ridiculous — what better reason then, to place myself into an uncomfortable predicament for your amusement? So, my friend Jon Heller and I set out to the Minnesota State Fair butterfly house, where I spent about half an hour among mostly Blue morpho butterflies.

I was chuffed at the number of compliments about my video-editing.

I love to sing. I have always loved to sing. When I was in grade school, I was considered “gifted” — breezed through classes, could draw, studied multiple musical instruments. When you say someone has a “thing” — so-and-so likes basketball, so-and-so loves to ride horses, so-and-so excels at math — I had a lot of “things.” My younger siblings had many fewer “things” than I did, one of them being singing. This entitled my family to belittle my efforts at singing, openly and frequently enough, that eventually I developed a paralyzing fear of doing it at all. Singing became relegated to the safety of my vehicle, and a few suspect audio recordings on cassettes or shared from behind a computer screen. Thus it was something of a Big Deal when I managed to first record a video of myself singing in 2016. It would take two more years, in late 2018, before I became daring enough to belt it out. And it would take another year after that, and one aborted attempt, before I participated in karaoke.

And it took me more than an hour before I finally stepped up.

I share this not because I believe it is good, but because it does not have to be. This is not about the simple act of singing, but about having the courage to follow your heart’s joy and be true to yourself, even in the face of fear and potential judgement. I believe that embracing one’s faults and imperfections is essential to the growth process. It is a core component of happiness, and of human wholeness. If you are “never wrong,” you will never be right.

Some people make fun of me for my videos, but that is okay.

“I am one of the only people I know,” I told my therapist, “who regularly puts themselves into situations where I know I will have to confront my fears and weaknesses.” “I think there is an admirable quality to that,” she replied.

There are, of course, people I have feared at times in my life, beginning with my parents. I think, on reflection, that an unconscious desire to confront and resolve those fears was part of what drove me to revisit the relationships of my past starting in 2014. I needed answers from the people who have hurt me. I needed to understand why. But once you have stepped through this Matrix and can see the fear and insecurity at the root of hurtful behaviours, it becomes almost impossible to not have compassion, even when compassion is probably undeserved. Perhaps especially when it is undeserved.

The world is changing and we need now, more than ever, to become greater than fear; to rise above fear, and make a conscious effort to understand each other. If we cannot work together, then there is no hope for the future.

I encourage you to step a little outside your comfort zone today.

On Empathy

Posted in health on June 23rd, 2019 by Jin Wicked – Comments Off on On Empathy

People that get to know me usually learn quickly that I loathe most television and movies. A strong component of this, until recently, has been the ADHD. I struggle to sit through a movie in the theatre when I cannot get up and walk around, pause it, or do something else simultaneously. It might also explain why I generally have an easier time watching cartoons and movies designed for children, with their shorter runtimes and faster-paced editing. Shows with repetitive music and laugh tracks also make me feel overstimulated.

Some recent experiences have caused me to take a deeper look at this.

When I emerged from my zombie-like depression in 2014, one of the issues I was consciously working on was empathy. I felt at that time I suffered from a lack of empathy; however, thanks to my therapist and the MMPI test, I better understand that I am/was burdened by egocentrism. Egocentrism, plainly put, means that it is difficult to distinguish the self from others and to view things from another person’s perspective. I think most people are egocentric to one degree or another. It becomes an issue when it interferes with your ability to function, or to maintain healthy boundaries within relationships.

I have lived a very isolated life, having few meaningful friendships or people I could trust to be myself with or honestly confide in, especially in my formative years. My parents violated my trust irreparably. Friendships with women have suffered due to lack of common interests, often, and male friendships tend to eventually deteriorate due to sexual attraction or romantic feelings. So other than my limited exposure to fiction, I spend a lot of time in my own head.

Now, I have been sort-of passively watching the series Mad Men on Netflix for the past few weeks, on one of my monitors behind my drawing tablet while I work. I am not going to spoiler a show that ended in 2015, so bail now if you must. There is a scene near the beginning of the show where Joan, the office manager, is pushed onto Don Draper’s office floor and raped by her fiancé. In a later scene, she is coerced into having sex with a potential client for the ad agency in exchange for his car company’s business. Though neither scene is filmed in graphic detail, there is enough footage book-ending both acts that your mind is able to imagine the rest. Both of these scenes left me crying and nearly shaking with rage. It was after that I began to notice how emotionally-drained and exhausted these dramas made me, and I realized that the other part of not enjoying them was too much empathy with the characters.

For similar reasons, I cannot tolerate cringe-shows like The Office, where I am supposed to laugh at someone embarrassing or humiliating themselves.

My current job requires compassion and empathy daily, and has even offered me a unique window to compare my interactions with those of my coworkers. It is easy to distinguish those for whom care is “just a job” versus those who actually care about the residents. And through my observations I have seen that, other than sometimes missing social cues, I am relatively normal.

It has been painful to observe people I have known be repeatedly abused by their partner, or engage in self-destructive and self-defeating behaviour. Here I have had to learn to maintain better boundaries, or simply walk away.

And in other instances, because I cared more about not upsetting someone, or put someone else’s happiness before my own, I have endured behaviours that made me profoundly uncomfortable, or left me feeling used and violated. I have allowed other (equally, or more dysfunctional) people to tell me what is “wrong” with me when I reacted poorly, or even reasonably, to abusive or unhealthy behaviours. The further distance I am from these relationships, the more clearly I can see their toxicity; not just my own, but from the other side. I have been burdened and weighed down by a mind-breaking amount of guilt and shame that was never really mine to begin with. And for the most part, I have bitten my tongue, due to fears of retaliation or retribution. I have been fighting this dissonance between my reality as I perceive it, and what I have been told or manipulated into believing my reality “is” or “should” be.

I am wise to this trickery, and it will not work on me anymore.

I have made significant progress in recognizing and eliminating my own toxic behaviours. The quality of my close relationships has improved immensely.

Through building professional relationships with colleagues I respect, positive feedback, and constructive criticism from unbiased sources, I have gradually repaired the damage dealt to my self-confidence. I am good and have value. My work is good and has value. No one can take that away from me.

I am getting better and doing better every day.

The Road to Self-Actualization

Posted in audio, health, work on May 22nd, 2019 by Jin Wicked – Comments Off on The Road to Self-Actualization

[ Listen to this post. ↗ ]

“The key to Maslow’s writings is understanding that there are no quick routes to self-actualization: rather it is predicated on the individual having their lower deficiency needs met. Once a person has moved through feeling and believing that they are deficient, they naturally seek to grow into who they are, i.e. self-actualization. Elsewhere, however, Maslow (2011) and Carl Rogers (1980) both suggested necessary attitudes and/or attributes that need to be inside an individual as a pre-requisite for self-actualization. Among these are a real wish to be themselves, to be fully human, to fulfill themselves, and to be completely alive, as well as a willingness to risk being vulnerable and to uncover more “painful” aspects in order to learn about/grow through and integrate these parts of themselves (this has parallels with Jung’s slightly similar concept of individuation).” – from Self-actualization, Wikipedia

Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs

It is May 22nd. It has been cool, rainy, and silent except for the low drone of my computer fans and steady stream of passing cars outside. The breakneck pacing of the previous six months has come to a sudden halt with the end of MSP Springcon. I slept almost twelve hours Monday night. In between bursts of writing, I have been sluggishly counting books and unpacking merchandise in the solitude of my office. I have been gnawing on leftover steak.

My mind wanders to my parents often, this time of year. It was almost exactly three years ago that my estranged father committed suicide. He refused any help, and never recovered from my mother’s death. He entered a relationship with a woman two years my junior — a waitress at the restaurant where the three of us often ate before my mother became too sick and weak to go out. I disapproved, and that was the last straw that estranged us. She bounced between my father and her husband in/out of prison. She took advantage of my father. He spent nearly every penny he had trying to keep her happy, until he was in massive debt. He should have had a comfortable retirement. After his death, my siblings discovered that my father had rented an apartment in his name for her, her child, and her husband, because he did not want her to be homeless. For all my father’s faults, selfishness was never one of them.

Like my father, I sometimes try too hard to help those I should not.

Toward the end of 2018, due to some threats I no longer felt physically safe or secure at my day job. Out of an abundance of caution for both myself and my coworkers, I left my work as a custom picture framer which I had known and loved for twenty years, and sought to begin a new career. Based on my experience caring for my mother, I was quickly hired on at a facility as a Home Health Aide. It turned out to be a fairly serendipitous turn of events, as other than trouble with scheduling — I was not able to get any additional time off for convention season prep or Springcon, which meant a lot of shift-trading, over-time, and very, very long weeks — I enjoy the job, and leaving retail has been refreshing. The job has also, I feel, been very good for me — helping to pull me out of my own inner world to focus on others’ needs, learning to ask the right questions and use nonverbal cues to assess those needs, gaining a new perspective of what is really important in life, and exposing me to a wide variety of histories and experiences through my residents. I fancy joking that, “I wipe asses during the week, and sign autographs on the weekend!”

One evening, I was attempting to care for a late-stage dementia patient who is frequently combative, refuses medication, is resistant to his cares, is often violent, and largely non-verbal (the things he says make no sense or are not words). However, he is responsive to music. While attempting to assist him, I began singing O Danny Boy. He grew still, then silent, and by the close of the song was singing along with me. He then allowed me to admin his medication and help him. We shared a moment together. For him, it would be rapidly lost to the ravages of his disease — but for me, I will not soon forget.

My days are filled with hugs and small tender interludes — a warm “Hello!” to someone excited to hear their name, listening to proud tales of children and grandchildren, remembering how someone prefers their coffee, small favours not on my worksheet, the thankfulness whenever I can spare a few minutes to chat, appreciative families. Songs during showers, where no one cares if a melody is carried imperfectly or a voice cracks. Holding a hand. Offering words of comfort. Health and youth take so much for granted — even bending down to pick up an item from the floor can be life-threatening if a fall occurs.

Not to paint too rosy a picture, my days also frequently include mild physical or verbal assault or abuse, and casual racism. Sexual harassment and sexist abuse from male dementia patients seem to be extremely common. They do not really prepare you for this during the interviews and training classes.

I have been told I am good at working with dementia patients for someone that has not being doing this sort of thing for very long. Perhaps it is because I can inhabit their worlds almost as easily as I can inhabit my own. Perhaps it is because they rely so heavily on body language to communicate, and mine is unusually exaggerated and expressive. Perhaps it is because I have in me a well of patience that I never fully recognized or knowingly tapped into. The repetitions and odd requests that irritate many of the other aides just do not really register with me. Maybe that will change months or years from now.

Anger is something of a last resort emotion for me. Before I become angry, I usually have to exhaust an ocean of excuses and rationalizations about why I should not be. The only part of my MMPI results that genuinely surprised me was my therapist’s recommendation for assertiveness training. I have never put much thought into the degree to which I learned to suppress my anger, desires, and needs growing up. I lived in a very much “my father’s way or the highway” household. I can see now how my inability to accept my anger as a valid emotion has undermined me. My relationship with Stephen is unique in that it is the first where I felt safe enough to “fight” — that is, we disagree, things might get a bit heated, then they are eventually resolved. My aversion to conflict has lead me into mostly-dominant or mostly-submissive roles.

During the process of getting divorced, I was briefly in a relationship where I allowed my budding confidence, enthusiasm, emerging identity, and sense of self-worth to be gradually ground into a pulp over months of controlling rules and demands, moving goalposts, being made to doubt myself constantly, and attempting to please the unpleasable. This is where the title of my new book, Queen of Assholes, originates from. When a new partner begins calling you an asshole after barely a month, any individual with a healthy self-esteem would be out the door. I did not have that, and did not do that. It has taken years of flopping around like a fish, trying to reconcile my admiration with personal experience, grasping to understand why I was treated that way and “fix” my mistakes, and conciously building relationships with secure and well-adjusted individuals who genuinely care about me to help me discover my own worth. My (mostly female) coworkers have been invaluable in this process of helping me learn what kind of treatment I should not accept. And I am under the care of an impartial and competent therapist to help me remain true to myself.

That relationship broke me in exactly the ways I needed to be broken.

More will come into focus as Queen of Assholes unfolds.

This weekend was the MCBA MSP Springcon comic convention. Since arriving in Saint Paul, the convention has not only helped to give my career its second wind, but in many ways, it and its volunteers have become the family I never felt I had. The fall before I came onto the scene, the main personality running the convention, Nick Postiglione, passed away unexpectedly. He was greatly loved by all accounts, and this left not only a gigantic hole in people’s hearts, but also in the leadership of the convention. Three volunteers were selected to take his place, and in the years following Nick’s death in 2014, everyone has developed their roles to move together as a team. I began volunteering in the spring of 2016, as soon as I learned about the volunteer activities. As time went on, I showed to participate in every volunteer activity where I was allowed, except during the convention itself. I am there when the tables and tablecloths go up. I am there until the last corner of the Grandstand is swept, and the doors are rolled closed on the loaded truck. Last summer, I obtained permission to start up an Instagram account for the convention, and with the help of friend-photographers, I work almost daily to promote fellow creators and engage with the convention’s audience across all of its social media.

I do these things because I choose, rather than to criticize the convention or its management, to be an active and positive force toward helping it not just grow, but thrive as the landscape changes moving forward. The convention does not exist to be a feather in my hat or “boost my ego,” I exist to serve it. The convention does not owe me anything more or less than the free T-shirt I am promised as a volunteer. If I am granted a featured artist placement, or a free table at which to sell my books, and meals to eat, that is a gift — and for what I am given, I will be grateful. There are more creators wishing to table than available spaces, it is run completely by volunteers, and this convention is the most generous I have ever seen. I am committed to its success.

(Fellow creators, feel free to reach out to me!)

Steve has been a volunteer for the convention for over twenty years, himself, and it feels like this is the first show where we have really gelled together as a team — between volunteer work, my booth, and his small comics and toys business. Comics and conventions are my life. Sharing that is important.

All that being said, I had an excellent show this year. My table remained busy nearly the entire weekend, and we sold between 30-40 books plus a healthy amount of merchandise. My lovely assistant Jessica decided she would rather take original artwork and books in lieu of what I usually pay for the weekend, so my net for the show was about the same even though I sent some of my business upstairs to the Charity Art Auction. And my auctioned piece received the third highest bid, raising $225 to be split between the Hero Initiative and Comic Book Legal Defense Fund. I donated to the Garage Sale myself.

This week I am taking a bit of personal time for rest, and inking the Deadwood piece I started. After that I will be shifting into comics production. I would like to have a Have Tablet, Will Scribble book ready for this fall, and the intro issue of Queen of Assholes ready for next spring. Both of those will be primarily new material, but now that I am getting proper help, I believe I can do it.