Read issues 1-3 of Scrambled Circuits, over 90 pages of comics, free: http:/
Making a pass through some mostly final art work along with the script, changing dialog and other stuff as dylans fantastic art inspires me to do so. Primus let's his Mother play a board game he made himself in secret.
The day started at 4am. Comic writing -> dayjob -> freelance client 1-> freelance client 2 -> oh god coffees on the way home.
I want to become rich so I can live in a small apartment by myself surrounded by doggies and writing comics all day. Whatever money I don't need for bills I'll use to fund other people's movies and comics and music endeavors.
I've been up since 3:30am drawing panels on sheets of paper, swiveling in my chair to stare at a printed page of dialog, and then on one of the sheets cross something out while making a noise of frustration. At some point in the last hour since I first started doing my laundry (Before my early work shift) a nameless, veiled figure approached my apartment door and left me a wonderful gift of groceries. This being did not knock or make any noise. It floated just above the ground, arms outstretched, while its bountiful haul of food and beverages mysteriously followed behind it. Or maybe it was a drone or something, I don't know, but it sure as heck beats walking 45 minutes each way to the grocery store.
(Originally from 08/28/15)