Inspirational Animals, Part Two

I've spent the past few years taking care of the two pit bulls in "Inspirational Animals, Part One". Now, I no longer see them at all; my ex-boyfriend now cares for them full time. I learned that sometimes, in order to move on (and if you're dealing with someone who can't be reasonable or understanding when it comes to joint-custody of pets), you have to do the heart-breaking thing and give up ownership of your wonderful animals.

I miss those dogs, so much that it still brings me to tears. They appear in my dreams often. It is difficult for me to look at photos of them, although i have many. Some sort of cloud of guilt hangs over me; I feel as though I've abandoned them or done them wrong. I just feel very strong connections with my pets, and form bonds that I definitely don't have with humans.

I have many theories on this matter, and it is a strong theme in my drawings of animals. It probably has something to do with my high level of anxiety and difficulties in social situations, but I'm not here to unload all that on the general public. Maybe someday I'll publish some literature regarding these feelings. Or I'll just keep drawing about it.

However, the universe has presented me with an animal to help me with my loss. My fiancé Michael has a wonderful pup named Spartacus who has accepted me as his adopted dog mom. He is very different from my former pups, Bronson and Hollis, and he is starting to appear in my drawings. He has been so helpful.

Kensington Sighted in the Mouth of a Shark

I made this drawing for my friend/roommate Mike Shark, a man who swims with the other (figurative) sharks of Philadelphia. I was overwhelmed by how many different universes I could make appear in the shark's mouth-- it is so big, so vast, with so much real estate. I settled on a scene of the intersection of Front and Norris Sts., close to the El. I figured it was like a snapshot of where we live, and how also, at any moment, Mike Shark himself could bare his shark teeth at the creatures swimming around Kensington, and swiftly shred them into pieces.

Psychedelic Camping Memories.

As I was sketching this out at our campsite at Hickory Run, I really started to think about Charles Burns and his drawings in Black Hole. To this day, I think that book really influenced the way I draw now, and also the way an illustrator can turn a simple scene of a tent between two trees into something foreboding and somewhat extraterrestrial. Or spooky, at least.