Hi everybody! Just wanted to share a quick preview for Steel City Serenade Issue #1. The cover! Read issue zero right here on my site, and be sure to stop by Mark Pracht’s blog and let him know what you think of the writing!
September 26, 2010
September 13, 2010
Spanning the Imagination Gap
It is one of the great observable truths of the human condition that we struggle constantly to align our internal world to the external world or align the external world to our internal world. We push and pull on these things, wiggle and squirm, build up and burn down, often with disastrous consequences, largely because, I think, these two ideas have very little to do with each other. Which is not to say that the external world invalidates our internal world, or that the way things work in our head trump the mechanics of the world around us. This is simply to point out the discrepancy, to focus, for a moment, our thoughts on space between our eyeballs and brains. As far as the external world is concerned, in that space sits clusters of finely tuned, highly evolved optical nerves, capable of interpreting chaotically confusing photonic blasts into signals that tell us things like distance, shape, color, and a myriad of other more complex ideas. In my internal world, however, that small distance between the physical intersection of the world and my body and my actual brain, the seat of my thought, houses the most human attribute of all. Imagination.
I was listening to an episode of Radio Lab recently, in which Robert and Jad do a brief thought exercise. Simply put, Robert asks Jad to imagine a canary, but to color it purple, give it a red racing stripe and polka dots. He then points out that, though Jad has successfully conjured a mental image, no such creature exists. No animal matching that description lives anywhere in the cosmos, to the best of our knowledge. But we can imagine that it might. And therein, I think, lies the secret to humanities great successes on Earth, and to the suffering we find it so easy to experience in life. We can imagine many beautiful things, take them apart and look at their imaginary pieces, put them back together and make them run, and none of this time, energy, feeling, or joy corresponds to anything outside of our own heads. Therein, for me, lies the desire to be an artist. To find some way to communicate those things, bring those visions to life. To close the Gap of Imagination a little. I now think of myself as an artist. It has become an internal definition that I use when that inevitable question of, “Who or what is Zach?” comes up.
“Oh, he’s an artist living in such and such…”
And to be clear, defining myself as an artist is obviously not a complete definition. Being an artist doesn’t successfully describe many things about me, like how or what I eat, my bathroom habits, the way I lay in bed, or the kinds of breakfast cereal I might prefer. It does not successfully describe my relationship with my fiance or my parents. But it is efficient. It’s a mission statement. It’s an internal measurement, like a life thermometer, and it has a certain number of external values that go with it.
This is where the frustrations that Chris Oatley mentions in his latest blog post, Desire vs. Frustration, come in. What happens when your internal definition, though admittedly shorthand, isn’t supported by your external circumstances? This is what leads me to say things like, “I do such and such during the day, but I’m really an artist/illustrator/comic creator.”
And then, I am led to ask the question, “But is that true? Am I REALLY REALLY an artist/illustrator/comic creator? My circumstances don’t match my description of myself.”
And there’s the rub. I’m looking down the road at the American economy, at the things I’ve committed to get out of life that nothing to do with being an artist, and recognize the very real possibility that the external world may never align itself to my internal world. That feeling sits inside me with the firm belief that I sure as shit will not compromise my internal world to match the external world. So where does that leave me?
In the very same set of shoes as thousands of others, I suspect. Millions. Well, billions, technically. With that supremely human ability to see things that aren’t there, to believe things that aren’t true, in the strictest sense.
I have, as do billions of others, that oft debated human capacity, choice. I’m not really interested in getting into the subject of free will just at the moment, because the important part, to me, is feeling ownership of your behavior, whatever causes your behavior. And I think you’d be hard pressed to say truthfully something other than that, whether or not we actually make choices, life certainly feels like we make choices.
My choice concerns the realization that the main difference between my internal world and the external world, for me, doesn’t lie in other peoples behaviors or the mechanics of the universe, but, in fact, lies in how I behave. So, I choose to behave differently. I choose to evolve. I choose to alter not my internal world nor the external world, but the Gap of Imagination.
This weekend I did it by choosing to attempt to draw and paint something I’ve never done before. I want some environmental art in my portfolio. I want experience with limited color palettes. I want to get better at perspective. There’s a ton of great reference and research, blogs and books out there for all of these things. But none of them do you any good if you don’t try it.
This is my main lesson from this painting, the one that has slowly sunk in after the past several days. I think it was good NOT to put in the research, just to take what I know and go for it, all out. Because now I have this (not very good) painting. But the thing that this (not very good) painting IS very good at is showing me where to put in my research, how to make it really count. It’s really good at showing me, in an image, in a succinct story, what I know and what I don’t. Some very helpful critiques from friends and collaborators have really highlighted where I should spend some time learning.
Looking at the image below, the values in the background are WAY to similar. I need to spend some time studying atmospheric perspective. It’s important to note that it works differently at night than during the day. The composition is wonky, thrown off by the hard line down the middle, created by using two point perspective too simply. It was a good experiment with the limited color palette and the perspective, but you can’t let a limited color palette limit your value palette, and you can’t let perspective be more important than composition. Both good lessons for me. Also, it’s messy. I clearly have to learn a lot/shore up my process in regards to producing digital things quickly. There’s a lot of ways Photoshop can help you move faster, and I need to learn a few of them.
Anyway, if you have additional insights or critiques, I more than welcome them and really appreciate you taking the time to look.
All this is to say, though, just do it. There will likely never be a time when your internal world and external world line up perfectly and create a life full of ease and happiness for you. People are just inherently too creative for that. But the thing that’s malleable, that fits into that Gap of Imagination, is you. Yourself. Your person and persona.
History, I think, if you could know it all, would look like a millipede, each leg one of millions of aborted futures, and the body not a straight line of progress, but a segmented, undulating series of curvatures, the average of which is progress, though not through any logical forward motion. And history, like a millipede, stinks when you squish it. I say these things to remind myself that history is messy, success is the realm of future, and being an artist is just part of now. And the only opportunity you’ll ever really have to start bending and stretching and spanning the gap is now.
August 26, 2010
What’s his name?
So, drew this guy earlier tonight as a reincarnation of an old character. Only, I don’t like his old name any more. What do you all think? What’s his name?
Here are the suggestions so far from a few of you fine folks out there!
Gonzalexx – Bastion, Interloper
BobLearned – Savant
Rene van Belzen – Systm
Rlmay3 – Synapse
JamieGambell – Sneaqer, The Red Cross
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August 23, 2010
Snippet of Comics Goodness
Just wanted to share a quick image featuring some of my characters from my graphic novel, welcoming folks home. I like to imagine they burst through my wall every day after work and make me draw them.
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August 18, 2010
New piece of fanart
My buddy Kevin Cross is working on a truly spectacular comic idea called Monsters Are GO! Over at the A&S Supreme forums, the challenge this month was to do a bit of fanart for MOG. Below is my piece.
July 20, 2010
SDCC, Monologues, The Traveler’s Tale, and Extremely Mini Minis
A news update from the world of Zach! This post will be a bit scattered, so bear with me. I’ll be at San Diego Comic Con this week, and I’m super thrilled about it. I will try to document my thoughts and impressions to share here with anyone who’s interested in reading.
I did the first theatrical thing I’ve done in ages last night, which was write a series of monologues for my fiance. I thought I’d share one of my more favorite ones here, and see what you all thought of it:
Real Estate Queen
I’ve, um, done a little hunting on my own, and I don’t want to tell you your business because you clearly know it, and why else would I be coming to you? But I really think this should be pretty easy to find. I’ve seen a bunch of listings that would be PERFECT, I know it, and I’m not asking for that much. Some amenities, sure, but not the moon, y’know? In my dream, it’s something small, cozy. Enough square footage for me and a roommate, who I’ll be renting to. A vintage two bedroom in a nice neighborhood. Not ritzy, but just nice, y’know? Somewhere with a grocery store and a neighborhood bar, kids playing. Trees on the street, a little sunshine in the place at just the right time of day. And I don’t mind a fixer-upper, either. I’m pretty handy, I can do the work. Oh, gosh, if I could have just one special thing about the place it’d be a balcony. Somewhere to stand with the breeze and watch the street. Maybe grow a few vegetables. (sighs) And exposed brick. It’s just so… classy, y’know? And it’s GOT to have a killer kitchen and dining area, because I host A LOT of parties. I’m very social. Everything in this town has bay windows, so I’m sure I don’t even need to mention those, but I will just in case. I’d really love a high ceiling because I’ve got very particular tastes in lighting fixtures, and of course I can change those out (snaps) SO easy. And, are you listening to me, EXPOSED BRICK. Yeah, it has to have exposed brick, and I don’t care what that does to the price. I’ll just get another roommate if I have to, I know plenty of people who never want to leave my parties, and I can just tell one or two of them they don’t have to! Gee, do you think I could afford a three bedroom? Or a small single family home? Something with just a bit of yard I can tend? Oh, a YARD. This is the most important thing anyone has ever said to you, real estate man, so LISTEN UP. I don’t care if it’s a derelict squatter’s tenement growing like a plantar’s wart on the dirt crusted HEEL of this city, if it has yard and it’s in my price range, I want it. I will have it. YOU will find it for me and I will BUY it, as long as it has a BALCONY. I’m a simple lady, and I know what I want, so what you need to tell me is do you think you’re the agent for me? [beat.] Are you choking?
In comics news, I’ve finally started doing thumbnails for The Traveler’s Tale, that beast of a 5 graphic novel series that is my true artistic passion and goal in life. It feels REALLY good. I’ll be sharing parts of my outline, thumnails, and art here on this blog. To kick things off, though, I’ll start with some character designs I’ve done for the project:
Again, I’d love to hear your thoughts on these. Anyway, lastly, but certainly not least, there’s been a challenge to create mini comics on one sheet of paper going on over at the Art & Story Supreme forums. There’s been two rounds so far, and I’ve produced two comics! You can download them, print them out, fold them up, and have your very own Zach Bosteel comic. Which I have done several times, because it makes me feel super neat. Check ‘em out:
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June 22, 2010
Artistic Pit Stop
This is a new idea that my fiance put into my brain. Or, not a new idea, but a new (and I feel more accurate) way of describing an old idea. Everybody says things like, “Keep learning! You’re always a student! You’re never done studying!” I’ve always understood that statement, in the abstract. “I should endeavor to keep experiencing new things, to remain humble, to realize that I am on a journey in which the road travelled is more important that the series of destinations,” I thought.
But “travelling down the road” is actually a dangerous analogy for me. These past couple months I’ve done a lot of travelling (both literally and figuratively) to meet artists, see artwork, and in a large part to feel like a professional. I met a lot of fantastic people who I like very much, and who I wanted to like me. To consider me a peer. And I looked at their work, both in terms of volume and quality, and was struck by what a long way I have to go in terms of skill and production until I consider myself their peer, regardless of what they think of me.
I don’t regret meeting people at all. I had a blast. I’d do it over again. But I feel like I’ve just put in a lot of time developing a career full of contacts and friends that I’m not actually good enough to have. I need to study more. Take in work. Fix problems with my artistic efforts. Mold them into something I’m happier with. I need to keep learning new things.
And the dangerous/frustrating thing about thinking of an artistic career as a journey is that if you’re not doing that travelling it feels like your’e not going anywhere, and if you’re not going anywhere it’s hard to think that you’re actually on that journey, isn’t it?
What I have recently realized that people mean (or what I think they mean) when they challenge you to be a perpetual student is NOT “be ready to learn at any time” but INSTEAD “actively learn.” You must make artistic pit stops along this journey. You must take the time to stop the car by not worrying about others’ work and thoughts of you for awhile, you must change out your tires by updating portfolios and improving techniques, you must refuel by seeking new sources of inspiration. Just like in driving, there will be situations on the road that you cannot predict. Sometimes you will have to choose between two bad things.
It’s your responsibility to yourself to arm yourself with the skills and knowledge that will help you navigate those difficult situations. Offer yourself every advantage you can.
And maybe most importantly, find a decent pit crew. You need people you can trust to be honest with you. You need someone to let you know when it’s time to come in, change things out. When you’ve gone farther with what you have than it should get you. Remember that a true collaborator will challenge you to be better rather than depend upon you to be good.
And have fun. Keep yourself in shape and then enjoy the benefits when the road and sky open up before you and all you can see, near or far, is the horizon.
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February 24, 2010
Insights Into Script Analysis from an Actor/Writer
In a recent post called “Life, Challenges, Rewards,” I blogged about my personal history, my journey down the road of life and into the realm of illustration to this point. I mentioned a theatrical background. A very kind reader took the time to comment (much appreciated, all of you!), and mentioned that I would use the skills I had learned as a theatrical in a thousand ways I could not predict. That rings very true every day. But that comment also got me thinking about how I use my skills in ways that I already recognize.
How do I apply my background to the work that I enjoy doing? Well, there are a lot of answers to that, and I will probably explore them all in various blog posts. But the one I was struck by today is tied to a project I’ve been working on. Inspired by the likes of Paul Caggegi of the Process Diary, Chris Oatley of Chris Oatley dot com, Jerzy Drozd and Mark Rudolph of Art & Story, Kevin Cross and Josh Kemble of Big Illustraion Party Time, and Thomas James of Escape from Illustration Island, I’m going to do my best to share the process of this project here. To throw open the doors on my imagination, and provide what insights I can offer based on my background. I hope people like it. I hope they find it useful.
Before I go any further, I want to give a quick shout out to the fellas over at the Graphic Novelist Network, an online critique group of comic artists who want to grow. I know we’ve only been going for like a week a now, but I’m really excited to share this project particularly with you guys and see where it takes me. Thanks for inviting me to be a part of the group! So, onwards.
The Project:
I’m working on what will be a series of five (count ‘em!) graphic novels. The project, as a whole, is called The Traveler’s Tale.
The Stage:
I’m outlining my ideas for this massive series right now. I’m taking a top down approach, starting with a theme and a character, and drilling down into story specifics.
How My Background Applies:
As I was constructing this outline, I found I was naturally breaking things into threes.
EX: Book 1
1. Major Event 1
2. Major Event 2
3. Major Event 3
And then further breaking each Major Event into three Events, which were broken into three Sub-Events. After a brief examination of WHY I was using this rule of threes, I stumbled across something from my theatrical background. As an actor, script analysis is a very important skill. You have to take a work that was written and imagined by someone else, and break it into its component parts, really dig in, to discover all the information that you can about your character. You have to deconstruct the story, find beginning, middle, and end. And then find the beginning, middle and end of the beginning, middle, and end.
It’s a simple enough rule of script analysis. Every scene should be essential to the story. Every scene has a little climax that pushes events forward. As an actor, you have to find these climaxes that the playwright puts in, pinpoint them, so that when you’re building the scene on stage out of a bunch of different people doing different things, you’re all still working together to tell the story. As a writer, I’m discovering that much the same thing is true. I have to discover the points of climax in the story, that little bit that makes every scene essential.
A technique of trying to identify this on the micro-level that I learned in college (and worked well for me, I thought), was called Trigger/Heap. In a well written story, every action should have a direct result, and that result is in fact another action that has a result, and so on and so forth, inevitably towards the climax of the story. The name comes from this idea. “The story begins with character 1 pulling the trigger of a gun, firing a shot into character 2″ > which leads to > “Character 2 falls down dead, in a heap.” Trigger/Heap. But you can draw it out. “Character 2 falls down dead in a heap.” > leads to > “Character 3 runs out of the room screaming.” >leads to> “Character 1 chases character 3 with the gun.” I don’t mean to seem pedantic. I realize that this idea is really intuitive. I think that’s why it works. Putting names to the idea, though, can really help you use it deliberately.
Now, if I were you (and count your lucky stars that I’m not, because you’re great, and I’m probably not as cool), I would say, “Wait, a second, random pedantic internet guy. You were talking about naturally breaking things into threes, and now you’re talking about an analysis thingy that is broken into twos. What do these have to do with each other?”
Now, if I were me (and I’m reasonably sure that I usually am), I would say, ” I’m glad you asked! You see, Trigger/Heap is an analysis tool for actors, to help help them identify actions and consequences in a script, which are the parts that the playwright provides. It is an actor’s job to provide/imagine the third part. I’m sure you’ve all heard jokes about difficult actors asking exasperated directors, ‘What’s my motivation?’ And there’s the third ingredient! Motivation, Action, Consequence.” I would then take a slightly wheezy, energetic breath, because I would be overly excited. Then I’d say, “Please don’t tell me I’m pedantic. I would rather not know.”
So in terms of the outline mentioned above, drilling down to the scene by scene level in threes, the construction that I was semi-consciously using could also be described as follows.
EX: Book 1
1. Motivating Major Event (what kicks off your whole story?)
2. Active Major Event (what do your characters do with this impetus?)
3. Consequential Major Event (what happens because of what your characters do?)
Now, this is a technique that I can’t say I owe to any one book or inspiration. I don’t say this to praise my own intellect for cobbling it together. I’m saying I HAVE NO IDEA IF IT WILL WORK. Feel free to critique the idea or process. I’m way into dialogues. I’m also sort of offering a disclaimer. If you’ve read these very ideas elsewhere, better worded, let me know. Credit should be given where credit is due. If you have any reading suggestions for me, or if you’re interested in the theatrical texts that I’m pulling some of my ideas from, let me know that too.
I will post again soon with a report on my progress and an actual sample of an outline constructed in this manner. Expect to see more about The Traveler’s Tale soon.
February 23, 2010
Hulking Out
An exploration of my favorite comic book character and why he sets my imagination on fire.
WARNING: In good conscience, readers, I cannot let you continue on without confessing what I’m sure you’ve surmised. I am a comic book nerd. Raised in the American comic book tradition. Much to the chagrin of independent creators everywhere, I love superheroes. Now, I don’t really read the big two very much anymore, but when I point to the stories, characters, artists, and writers who inspired me as a kid, I find I unerringly refer to those that worked on and came from superhero comics.
So, with that out of the way, those of you who are not interested in superheroes of any kind or what I have to say about them have moved on to another corner of the Internet, I’m sure (the whole thing is corners, I suspect), and those of you that remain suffer from at least some affection or direct ire for the genre.
Some quick superhero philosophy. The genre does a couple things well that has hooked children for generations. Chiefly, the key to anybody being a superhero is that they are empowered. Where others are weak, they are strong. Where others are afraid, they are fearless. When any human in their right mind would want to stick their head in the sand and try to ignore the oncoming wave of oblivion, they stand, and (usually) win. What’s not to love? They are a projection of what we wish we could be. Faced with the most difficult situations we can imagine, they have the courage and strength make the right decisions.
I think, on the flip-side of being individually empowered, our poor superheroes are also prone to being propagandized as models of behavior or villainized as fascist expressions of masculine dominance. And I can’t really disagree. The thing about being empowered enough to make your own rules is that you would have to believe you know better than everyone else when making decisions that directly affect them. So naturally, readers and writers cast one of two lights on that idea. Either the characters DO know better, and so represent a way that we, the consumers, are supposed to behave, or the characters DON’T know better, and represent a fallacy of thought that we, the consumers, should avoid. I’m not trying to pass a value judgment on either school of thought. I think entertaining stories arise from each idea.
My deep and abiding love for my favorite comic book character, though, springs from the idea that he breaks this rule, due to his nature. In case you hadn’t guessed by the title, my favorite character is the Hulk. Now, I will not attempt to argue that the Hulk has been flawlessly written and utilized in his 60 some-odd years of comic book existence. But in concept, I believe he acknowledges both of the ideas above that make superheroes something to aspire to and something to fear.
Hulk is the strongest there is. Physically. And the more you try to prove that he’s not the strongest there is, guess what? The stronger he gets. Hulk is the ultimate expression of being able to change the world around you to suit yourself. Who can forcibly stop the Hulk from getting what he wants? Nobody. You just have to calm him down. I would like to believe that my anger and outrage at the state of the world had such a power to change it. That murder and kidnappings, earthquakes and starvation, climate change and environmental corruption could be halted simply by the power of my anger. It’s not the case, but therein lies one reason I love the Big Green Guy.
But I also know that I don’t know everything, and if I did have the power to change the world, even if I was trying to make it better for everybody, I wouldn’t necessarily succeed. Hulk, in concept, acknowledges this. His desires are simple, generally non-combative feelings centering around wanting to be left alone or to help some individual he cares for. But his efforts are equally likely to lay waste to beneficial things as they are to be beneficial. In the face of such power, who’s mind wouldn’t seem like an infant’s? Even the smartest person would have trouble predicting the consequences of his or her own actions when they could be so catastrophically huge. Here the Hulk serves as a humbling reminder, to me, that the greatest power in the world does not absolve us of responsibility to each other, and disregarding the welfare of others even briefly can turn you into a monster.
And then there’s the human aspect of the Hulk. Not physically strong, but highly intelligent and highly socially responsible. Bruce Banner pits every ounce of his control against that urge to change things out of anger, to act rashly. Because he does not want to see anyone get hurt. I think, or rather I hope, that it is a statistically rare person among us who can really think about physical harm coming to somebody else and sincerely wish it upon them. Who can think that they would like (and I mean LIKE) to be the cause of someone else’s pain, broken bones, maiming, disease or death. I know that the thought of really being responsible for things like that turns my stomach. And Bruce Banner can unleash the ultimate human force for change at any time, but the thought of those consequences is enough to encourage him to fight to restrain it until the most necessary of moments.
And which one of them is right? Which one of them is necessary? They both are, to me. I think the story telling bears this out. It’s a favorite of writers to make the Hulk a necessary solution to a problem, even though Banner is sort of the model human (intelligent, generous, societally conscious, self-sacrifing). They are both necessary, both right, depending upon the circumstance
I find this concept so compelling. This idea of Man vs. Monster, Intelligence vs. Strength, Society vs. Independence. But what I especially love about the Hulk is that there isn’t really a right answer. Just an interesting question.
February 20, 2010
The Fourth Immortal, Pg. 3
Just finished page three of my comic, the Fourth Immortal! Soon, I will probably stop putting these pages in a blog post, and start updating a gallery of Fourth Immortal Pages or something. Anyway, all feedback is welcome. 
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UP! Fair
