Headcatch

March 7, 2013 § Leave a comment

Morning! (Well, sorta. I’m way behind a lot of you). I’m looking for an alternative venue for the comics, as they appear in the posts pretty small.

If you need the “full effect” just click the comic–and it ought to get bigger. Bear with me, once I find a better hosting venue, I hope it won’t be as much work for you.

In the meantime:

Since a lot of you guys are in the wonders/throes of calving today’s: calving5 “Headcatch”.  =)

Headcatch…

February 6, 2013 § 6 Comments

Couple things…

I’m having WAY too much fun drawing Scout comics. It’s seriously ridiculous. I’ve got a sketchbook filled with about a gazillion different things that I think is funny that Scout, does, could do, or I imagine him doing.

The response has been nothing but great. Every one is very supportive, and I really feed off of that. The energy, the laughs, anything. It’s so positive, and a lot of fun.

Couple things though: I want to be able to feature “Headcatch” and post new ones without inundating subscribers mailboxes with Cowdog Blog spam. Any ideas?

Also…I realize my artistic ability has a way to go. Part of me drawing new comics every week is crafting that ability, and working on my skills.

You’re not going to be getting any Stan Lee type comic stuff in your inbox, but at the very least, rest assured: I’m working to improve my ability.

One thing that I see a lot of in agriculture blogs/news/tweets/Facebook pages is a lot of information. Information on how to better the place, better your crop rotation, grazing, blah, blah, blah.

I’m not “blah,blah,blah”ing the serious stuff that we all have, need, and want to know. I’m blah,blah,blahing the fact that despite my best intentions, I can’t be working the place 24 hours a day.

I’m not disparaging, or discrediting those sources of good, sound information. I’m just trying to find my niche in the Agriculture blogosphere, and provide a brief respite for you folks that are hard at it, and just want a break. Thus: Headcatch.

One of my ideas–and trust me–I’ve had a lot of shi$#y ideas, is that my comic purely focuses on rural folks way of life. I don’t want to lose touch with where I feel I belong, and where the vast majority of my audience comes from. Rural places. Ag folks. People that put their backs into their work, that’s how they feed their families’, and a lot of other folks’ families as well.

Perhaps that got a bit mission statement like–but–that’s at the root of the ideas I have, and the desire I have to improve my drawing skills, and the jokes I come up with.

This is a very fledgling endeavor, and I’m happy to have you folks along for the ride.

Do me a favor. Email. Tweet. Comment. Tell me what sucks. Tell me what works.

My ultimate goal is to have a “Headcatch” comic taped to someone’s shop wall.

Then–I’ll know I’ve made it with the Ag crowd.

Thanks.

calvingheadcatch1

Headcatch

January 31, 2013 § Leave a comment

headcatch15

Headcatch

January 30, 2013 § 2 Comments

headcatch10

Headcatch

January 29, 2013 § 2 Comments

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Drum Roll…

January 24, 2013 § 3 Comments

Well. Here it is.

A good three weeks of scribbling, erasing, more erasing, lots more erasing–I think I have something I’m ready to show the world…

Clearly…I’m not going to win any art awards.

But–and this applies to more than just art: Take your Mother-In-Law’s advice.

As an accomplished artist, she was more than gracious during the In-Law’s recent visit to Hawaii. She answered my questions,  looked at my sketchbooks, and offered some really good advice.

You should probably check out her art here–because once you see mine–you cannot unsee it.

One bit of her coaching, was that at some point you just have to stop tinkering, and let it go.

So…here goes.

Another life lesson: Listen to your wife. This was her favorite comic so far…so it got the most work.

Without further ado, I present to you:

“Headcatch” The Adventures of Ty and Scout, comic edition.

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Growing Down

December 27, 2012 § 4 Comments

20121227-121932.jpgEvery year…I get this rash of creative energy that if it doesn’t come out–manifests itself in some goofy form. Often for evil, but I probably get that from Scout.

I can’t really predict when, and how this burst of energy comes from, but I do know that I’ve rarely capitalized, or really, really worked at it.

Without sounding too much like a New Year’s resolution–which is all the rage this century–but I’m rather sick of “playing around” with these outbursts.

It’s time to get serious about what it is I think I ought to be doing.

As a kid, I was constantly drawing, making up stories, building things that didn’t exist with Legos, and as my wife can attest to: live(d) in somewhat of a made-up universe.

Stuffed animals became alive, I gave them voices and back stories, and made my brother laugh by talking to him for hours as my characters.

In college, I took a smattering of Creative Writing courses, and was greatly encouraged by a professor I really respected, and liked. He was pretty supportive, and at times downright flattering regarding some of the things I had written for class.

Not to get too crazy with the self-awesome Fest, but this has been going on since Junior High. I’m not entirely sure at what point I decided I would be the next Great American Novelist–but I was pretty sure that was what was going to happen.

Fast forward to now: I’m older. I have nieces and a nephew. I have a lot of pages of things I’ve written that I keep moving from place to place that aren’t good enough, nor am I dedicated enough to bring them into the light of day.

All the flattery, and “talent” of those writings are all well and good–but what’s missing is my passion for it. Sure, I like to write creatively, and seriously–but it’s not really my thing. I may be good at it–but I don’t love it.

Recently, I was told by my doctor, a physical therapist, and most importantly my body: That something is a bit amiss. I’m dealing with a rather significant injury to my neck–and despite my best intentions, and wishes to return to my physical work, the crux of the matter is: If I continue to do it, I can expect the rest of my life to be uncomfortable, possibly in pain, and possibly permanently altered enough to the point that any kind of riding, or strenuous physical work would be pretty difficult.

Not cool.

I have every desire in the World to return to the ranch someday (after the GREAT HAWAII EXTRAVAGANZA ADVENTURE is over, of course) and be a contributing member. I want to ride, work cattle, build fence, and undertake whatever crazed project the Father-in-Law has come up with. I love that stuff. So, right now it doesn’t make a lot of sense to keep pushing, and possibly be nothing more than a head set upon a pretty banged up body.

I need to do something.

I’ve been drawing again–something I used to do constantly. I was never any good at it–but I loved to do it. It gave me something to look at for the characters and worlds that lived in my head. It gave me faces to the voices I came up with. (Yep, voices in my head. I just wrote that).

I’m absolutely blessed to have family and friends with young children. Children that are right in my wheel house as far as fun, and creativity. Playing with them, listening to them–it’s fascinating to watch them, and imagine myself as a kid engaged in their adventures.

The imagination is a fascinating thing–and as we grow up–and go to school, apply for colleges, have to pay bills, be responsible to a spouse, our jobs–the imagination gets pushed back. It’s less of a companion, and more of an annoyance, because when you’re supposed to be doing something with your life–you’re sometimes flying on a dragon, or talking to your pet wombat, or riding a dog.

In light of the terrible events in Newtown, CT I was furiously texting with a friend. Her husband is a military fella, and the kind of guy that is doing something with his life. Sacrificing family time to be a part of the greater good. A guy that I like to watch football with, have a beer, and respect the hell out of.

During our texting–I was frustrated and brainstorming–I was aghast at the victimization of the kids, their parents, and families. It made me mad that I am doing nothing to help “save” kids, or defend them. I was ready to sign up that day, join a police force. Doing something adult, tangible, and serious…

It’d be a significant life change, and one that isn’t necessarily in the plans my Bride and I have set out for ourselves. It was reactionary, emotionally charged, and frankly: unrealistic.

How can I be helpful to kids? Not just the real important ones in my life–but kids I don’t know, never will know, but could reach out to? Let them know that the World isn’t always a scary, evil, horrible place?

I’m not sure I have the answer figured out yet–but maybe some of the characters that have lived in my head for years is a good way to tell them. Maybe if they can lose themselves in my worlds, my stories, their imaginations will be sparked and they will have the ability to fallback on it as adults.

Now that–is something I could grow to love.

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