Secret Still

Let me share something with you: I don’t own a TV. I’ll wait until you recover from shock. Better? Ok. What I do have is a computer, which these days equates to a TV in most cases, meaning that I still watch TV. The thing is, I don’t like to. I don’t have a TV, because I don’t want to spend all my time watching one. What do I do instead? I read books. Books are the TV of the mind, and I read them like crazy, especially comics because they provide the added layer of great art. So, with an impending week long break coming up for the holidays, do you think that I’m anticipating catching up on all the shows I’ve missed? I’ll tell you, I am not. But what I do have is a nice stack of comics to read both digital and analog, and a dog to sit on my feet while I do so. If you can tell me of a better way to relax, I will probably sock your face in because you’re a liar. And sitting like a gem at the top of my comics stack is the work of Luke Pearson, mostly because I haven’t gotten the chance to read a lot of his comics, but also because his work is fucking top notch. His style is variable but always beautiful, his subjects interesting, and there is a dandy balance of wit and pathos. You can bet your ass that one of his comics is worth at least one episode of Lost, even if the comic occupies less time. So, in the coming weeks when you find yourself bored to tears while waiting on your drunk family members to stop fighting, pull up a few of Pearson’s comics and engage your mind. It’s that or stare at Dick Clark’s dessicated android corpse.

Luke Pearson

Thanks once again to Drawn! for helping me find more comics to read instead of doing the job I get paid for. I think the amount of not working compared to the amount of working that I do has finally passed the point of getting fired. I needed the time off anyway, lots of comics to catch up on. And thanks to Nedroid for being the comic that combines everything I love about Calvin and Hobbes with everything that makes my brain taste like colors about Exploding Dog.

Nedroid

I spent the better part of high school getting high in an empty greenhouse and then subsequently hunched over my desk drawing lots of stick figure comics during classes. Ninja battles, theories about the future, illustrations for stories I was reading, you name it and I probably illustrated it somewhere between 2nd and 5th period. My friend and I would even have duels trying to one-up each other in a giant, ongoing collaborative battle. Lone swordsman gets defeated by ninjas, ninjas by cast of Braveheart, cast of Braveheart by God, God by Nietzsche, and on and on. Looking over the work of Dresden Codak, I should’ve stuck with it. There is clearly a place for the weird, funny, incredible images the mind comes up with when left to its own devices, and Dresden Codak is the king of that place. He just really gets me.

Dresden Codak

Thank you, Lilli Carré, your illustrations were exactly what I needed today. Made everything better.

Lilli Carré

Jordan Gray seems like one of those guys that wakes up in the middle of the night with a fantastic idea, and then doesn’t go back to sleep for the next few days while working on it. That’s how I think of Spike Jonze, too. There are a lot of people with great ideas for projects, but only so many who absolutely have to see them made. Jordan definitely has the great ideas, just take a stroll through his portfolio and that will be clear. But he clearly has the follow-through. How else could he have made a feature film? Or a badass comic? Or such great type choices? If we’re separating the men from the boys here, Jordan’s chest hair is curling out of his flannel shirt. I’ve really got to stop making my metaphors sound so homoerotic.

Jordan Gray

I know absolutely nothing about this comic, except that it’s fantastic and weird and blew my mind down my spine and out my behind. The Japanese just keep being better than everyone else at things. Head nod to Matt for showing me the comic in the first place. You’re a giant poose*, Matt, but you keep me entertained.

*moose pussy

Abstraction

One of the most important things you learn as a writer is when to shut the hell up. Now is that time. There is nothing that I can say about Connon Willumsen’s comics that is equivalent to their goodness. Mums the word.

Connor Willumsen

I love that image. Welcome to Secret Still, Kim Herbst. Long may you rule.

Kim Herbst

Most badass comics creator Scott Morse has a nice little project going on right now called Dawn of the Gearheads. It’s a short, three panels per page comic that he slapped together over the course of a week on scrap board. When I say slapped together, I don’t mean like that chair that you tried to make for your grandfather’s birthday at the last minute, the one with only three longs, none of which were the same length. Morse has created a gritty adventure comic with only the most basic tools and a strong will. Get your glimpse now, because once the serial postings are done, he’s taking the whole thing down for later sales in the real world. You remember the real world, right? It’s that scary place that’s waiting when you turn away from your monitor.

Dawn of the Gearheads found via Drawn!

With my general obsession over the linework of Chris Ware and Daniel Clowes, it’s odd that I’ve never mentioned Adrian Tomine here before. He can easily be placed alongside those two giants in the halls of crisp, clean, and amazing lines. His style is a little more like Clowes, in that it tends to be more realistic, but Tomine’s compositions are usually more complicated, like Ware’s, and makes my eyes bug out till they water. If you’ve read the New Yorker, chances are good that you’ve seen his work at least once, because he’s been their cover artist more times than I’ve passed out drunk on the floor. Trust me, it’s a lot. But familiar or not, there’s no doubt that you’ll respect and idolize his talent. You know you want to respect and idolize it. Give in to those desires.

Adrian Tomine