where I'm at
Mar. 13th, 2026 07:42 pmJust decided I wanted to update my influence list, o lucky reader!
Here are my current all-time Top Ten Cartoonists. Today's list is geared toward those whose work I not only enjoy and appreciate, but whose work speaks to and inspires my own current work. So they're more about where my cartooning head is at right now — therefore, some old major idols and influences don't appear, or appear differently ranked:
Enjoy and/or dig!
Here are my current all-time Top Ten Cartoonists. Today's list is geared toward those whose work I not only enjoy and appreciate, but whose work speaks to and inspires my own current work. So they're more about where my cartooning head is at right now — therefore, some old major idols and influences don't appear, or appear differently ranked:
- Bill Watterson
- Dik Browne
- Alex Toth
- Lee Holley
- Hank Ketcham
- George Lichty
- Mort Walker
- Frank Robbins
- Jaime Hernandez
- Leonard Starr
- Jon McNaught
- Thom
- Anthony Auffret
- Vera Brosgol
- Pascal Girard
- Seth
- Julien Neel
- Brian Crane
- Tonči Zonjić
- Tauhid Bondia
Enjoy and/or dig!
My 14th gouache is a Bohemian waxwing — I was quite taken by the incredibly vivid reds and yellows in the wings and tail, they were fun. 8 x 10, watercolour paper mounted on cardboard: a surface I found in Dollar Tree and have since stocked up on. I find it a very handy work surface for gouache.

My 63rd acrylic is a seasonal Golden Lab. Got organic greens by mixing yellow and black: a trick I picked up a while back and still get a kick out of. 10 x 10, canvas.


My 63rd acrylic is a seasonal Golden Lab. Got organic greens by mixing yellow and black: a trick I picked up a while back and still get a kick out of. 10 x 10, canvas.

geeky treasure
Dec. 9th, 2025 06:09 pmComic-strip historian-geeks will appreciate this treasure I stumbled across today, in a thrift store, for less than CAN$2: a book collection [which appears to be a first printing, 1945] of the comic strip Male Call by Milton Caniff . Non-historian-geeks will need to be informed that Caniff is like the Shakespeare and Rembrandt of comics — one of the greatest and most important cartoonists in the history of the medium.
And the sweetest bonus of all: autographed.



My 62nd acrylic is a further exploration of a limited palette I discovered while working on a previous abstract. I got quite excited working with those colours (and their respective values). I really like how they look and work together, so I have stocked up on those paints and hope to do a lot of different things with them in future.
No Idea: 1962
Aug. 29th, 2025 03:51 pm
My 58th acrylic is sorta my 55th because I did the underdrawing for it back in January, then left it untouched til now. An attempt to let Expressionism [and maybe Fauvism] inform my approach a bit more than usual.
( the story behind it )
Dishman turns 40!
Aug. 4th, 2025 07:57 amThe first issue of The Mundane Adventures of Dishman was released in August 1985.

Since then, it has had a modest and very spotty publication history, and yet is still remembered in an obscure corner of comics readership. Big thank you to everyone who has been on his side all this time!

Since then, it has had a modest and very spotty publication history, and yet is still remembered in an obscure corner of comics readership. Big thank you to everyone who has been on his side all this time!
I was recently talking with Barbara about a local artist [acrylic painter] I have met and conversed with a few times... and how I always find it flattering but odd when I realize that said artist talks with me [and about me] as if I am a peer. Barbara says that I am one and should certainly see myself that way, but I have trouble with this. Then she got talking about whether I realize that I am a good artist, and that my art is good.
Afterward I thought about it for a while, and realized that I do think that my work is generally Good Enough®, but I don't think of it as Good®. Since then, I've been struggling to define for myself just what the difference is, between good enough and good.
Finally I settled on something like this: if I look at a piece of mine, and I don't see things that I wish I had done differently, or parts that aren't quite what I would like.... if the flaws are not glaring, but are acceptable instead, then I can say the work is good.** Then I got thinking about which pieces of mine I can say that about.
I came up with four. Out of sixty years of arting.
Not sure where I'm going with this, I still need to mull over and hash out. Wondering if other people make a similar distinction between good-enough work and good work. I just wanted to get this down while I thought of it.
** and is this how I judge whether other people's work is good? Not sure that I do. Yet more sutff to mull over....
Afterward I thought about it for a while, and realized that I do think that my work is generally Good Enough®, but I don't think of it as Good®. Since then, I've been struggling to define for myself just what the difference is, between good enough and good.
Finally I settled on something like this: if I look at a piece of mine, and I don't see things that I wish I had done differently, or parts that aren't quite what I would like.... if the flaws are not glaring, but are acceptable instead, then I can say the work is good.** Then I got thinking about which pieces of mine I can say that about.
I came up with four. Out of sixty years of arting.
Not sure where I'm going with this, I still need to mull over and hash out. Wondering if other people make a similar distinction between good-enough work and good work. I just wanted to get this down while I thought of it.
** and is this how I judge whether other people's work is good? Not sure that I do. Yet more sutff to mull over....

As a part of training my eye and hand for a new upcoming project, I've been drawing studies of Lee Holley's Ponytail panels from the early 60s. And I find myself learning [yet again] the lesson that comes from pretty much any 20th-century cartoonist: while the drawing may appear and feel pretty simple, it is deceptively simple. There is always a lot more intricate work involved than that. Always an inspiring eye-opener for me.
I am calling this my eleventh gouache painting, even though technically that isn't correct: this was done on a 4-by-6 canvas board and all my other gouaches were on paper, and the paint calls itself acrylic paint rather than gouache. Bear with me while I explain:

This was my first time trying Deco Earth brand “reclaimed acrylic” paint — claims to be more opaque and more matte finish than regular acrylic. The opaque is maybe a bit true, but the matte finish is way true. It's a lot like working with acrylic gouache IMHO — hence my labelling it such. Handles nice and I look forward to working with it again. (Even though the range of pigments available to work with leaves a little to be desired, I think.)

This was my first time trying Deco Earth brand “reclaimed acrylic” paint — claims to be more opaque and more matte finish than regular acrylic. The opaque is maybe a bit true, but the matte finish is way true. It's a lot like working with acrylic gouache IMHO — hence my labelling it such. Handles nice and I look forward to working with it again. (Even though the range of pigments available to work with leaves a little to be desired, I think.)

My 56th acrylic is, once again, a visual that mysteriously popped into my head and stayed there. (As usually happens with any abstract that I feel moved to pursue to completion.) There's something about this colour palette that seems to connect with me, seeing as I used this same one last year. I can see me using these colours to sub for the white/gray/black palette I'm accustomed to working with in my cartooning, and doing value studies that way. (I even have a vague idea for the next one...)
A few times now I've mentioned the graphic novel I'm working on this past year or so. [And, if it gets out of hand, it may get too long for me to get it done while I'm still here.] Anyhoo:
Today I got thinking, "Am I being ridiculous to work on something like this when the world seems to be falling apart around me? I mean, for the first time in my life, I am looking at the very real chance that my country may disappear and be swallowed up by a neighbour... causing untold stress and disruption and chaos. And then, being able to draw a comic will become the last thing on my agenda. Society may disintegrate beneath my feet, and I'm still just plugging away at my comic book like all is well??"
I've thought that a few times lately, but when it happened today, I thought something else: "Yes, there is a chance this could happen. But, if I'm being brutally honest with myself, there's a far better chance that I could have a heart attack or stroke at any moment, and I won't be able to finish my novel then, either. But this has always been true, and I didn't let it stop me from trying. So maybe I similarly shouldn't let the state of the world stop me."
Today I feel like I understand a bit better what the Beats meant in the Fifties when they said, "When The Bomb drops, it will find us painting and writing poems."




