Thanks, Sofia. I haven't been back to AZ in at least 15 years and I know the desert is probably a lot smaller now. I first left in 1979 and didn't return until the mid-'80s and things had grown (sprawled) and changed so massively even back then that I can't imagine how different it is now. I still have family and friends who live there who love it, so the strip is just a personal observation -- a memory of impressions from that time and may say more about me and my personal demons than the actual desert. Felt good to "get it off my chest" when I drew it, though!
Hey RahneFan -- I'm pretty sure that vibrant blue watercolor is Ultramarine. I usually mix the colors all up (I've been using the same three watercolor trays for 20 years so everything gets mixed together eventually!) But I think that may be Ultramarine straight out of the tube. Maybe some Cerulean mixed in at the bottom of the sky and some grays or browns mixed in at the top.
The light in these paintings is truly supernatural, super-real. Horizons, headlights, stars, road signs, and hallways all glow with a whisper from another, impending reality hinted at by the narrator. Especially in the desert, the night time sky sets the tone for all that you can see or imagine. While reading this story, I remembered numerous films depicting vulnerable drivers in the desert, a suspenseful, gloomy reverie by association. Your paintings made me think how color can be frightening and how rarely that experience is found in comix. Please, frighten me more with color!
I grew up in Omaha, and western Nebraska is pretty desolate and unforgiving. Then there were the two hours I spent driving I-90 in Minnesota and almost went mad...
You capture the loneliness of driving highways at night, with nothing to pass the time but a radio and your imagination.
The night can get dark, and somehow it makes you more vulnerable.
i loved it. i was born in tucson and went to high school in phoenix, so i'm very familiar with being in the desert. maybe too alone in the desert.
ReplyDeleteI know no desert. But that was great. What on Earth did you use to make that beautiful vivid blue? Especially in the last panel.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing this!
Thanks, Sofia. I haven't been back to AZ in at least 15 years and I know the desert is probably a lot smaller now. I first left in 1979 and didn't return until the mid-'80s and things had grown (sprawled) and changed so massively even back then that I can't imagine how different it is now. I still have family and friends who live there who love it, so the strip is just a personal observation -- a memory of impressions from that time and may say more about me and my personal demons than the actual desert. Felt good to "get it off my chest" when I drew it, though!
ReplyDeleteHey RahneFan -- I'm pretty sure that vibrant blue watercolor is Ultramarine. I usually mix the colors all up (I've been using the same three watercolor trays for 20 years so everything gets mixed together eventually!) But I think that may be Ultramarine straight out of the tube. Maybe some Cerulean mixed in at the bottom of the sky and some grays or browns mixed in at the top.
ReplyDeleteThanks for asking!
The light in these paintings is truly supernatural, super-real. Horizons, headlights, stars, road signs, and hallways all glow with a whisper from another, impending reality hinted at by the narrator. Especially in the desert, the night time sky sets the tone for all that you can see or imagine. While reading this story, I remembered numerous films depicting vulnerable drivers in the desert, a suspenseful, gloomy reverie by association. Your paintings made me think how color can be frightening and how rarely that experience is found in comix. Please, frighten me more with color!
ReplyDeleteThank you for the extremely kind words. I really appreciate it!
ReplyDeleteI get a weird response to cool graphics. I could just cut out and eat that skyline. It's really something.
ReplyDeleteThanks!
I grew up in Omaha, and western Nebraska is pretty desolate and unforgiving. Then there were the two hours I spent driving I-90 in Minnesota and almost went mad...
ReplyDeleteYou capture the loneliness of driving highways at night, with nothing to pass the time but a radio and your imagination.
The night can get dark, and somehow it makes you more vulnerable.
Great imagery. Love that inky dark in the alleyway!
ReplyDeleteSo, the desert beckons to you. You fell for it. But you got out alive, eh? Not like that fellow in Delphine #4. The siren got him!!