Jellybeans

Buckle up, folks--this one’s kind of corny.

Today marks a month since New Year’s Day, which is when I actually intended to write this post. (Given the subject of this post, I think the lengthy delay may actually be a good thing.)

As a society, New Year’s Day is when we begin the resolutions we made a day earlier. This year will be the one we finally lose that weight, get in shape, write the novel, take the trip, give up whatever. And, as a society, we generally stick with those resolutions for a solid three or four days before (quietly) packing it in and starting to think about next year. (It’s a cliche, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.)

So I’m not a fan of resolutions.

But:

I really like goals.

(I am aware that I’m playing with semantics, but then, I’m always up for semantics.)

A year and a month ago, I made it my goal to draw every day for a year, and I’m still going. A few months into 2017, I made it my goal to start work on my webcomic. In June, when I officially started work on it, I set a goal of 20 completed pages by the time school started. I exceeded that goal by a couple of pages.

Look: These are all things I had been meaning to do for years, but never got to in any meaningful way. There was always something that needed doing (or that I chose to spend my time on instead). And then, as insane as this sounds, I saw a video on YouTube.

Here, watch this. It’s short. You have time. (A warning: I find this video tremendously beautiful and inspiring. My students largely find it depressing. Your mileage may vary.)

Sometime in December 2016, I saw that video, and it made me think about the time I was spending on scrolling through various apps on my phone, or watching the same TV episodes over and over.

As I tell my students when we watch the video, there are certain non-negotiables in life. We have to go to school, or to work. We have to pay bills. If we don’t do these things, our lives probably become pretty tough.

There are other things that are negotiable, but are (I think) too important to give up. We need to spend time with friends and family; we need to play with the dog; we need to take time out to play games, read books, watch movies, etc. If we don’t do these things, our lives lose a lot of their meaning.

The key is to look at the things that we’re choosing to do, but not getting joy or meaning or value out of, and to replace them with the things we always meant to do.

I’ll end with the writing prompt I give my students after the video. You don’t have to write anything down, unless you want to. You don’t have to tell anyone about your goal, unless you want to. But please: set a goal. My life hasn’t changed in very many concrete ways in the past year--same job, same family, same house--but my level of satisfaction with my life has risen dramatically. Give yourself that chance.

Some possible things to consider:

  • What do you want to spend more of your time on?

  • What do you want to spend less of your time on?

  • What do you want to get better at?

  • What’s something you’ve always wanted to try, but haven’t yet?

(See you next week!)

#sandwichbagart : Returning to Art

In 2014, my daughter was in the 3rd grade, and not always a fan of school. Out of a desire to make the middle of her day a little brighter (and no doubt inspired by the occasional Buzzfeed article on a similar thing), I started drawing little Star Wars-themed pictures on the plastic bags I used to pack her sandwiches. (We love Star Wars in my house.)

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Harold’s Origins

I’ve been drawing Harold regularly since early 2015. It’s strange to think that it’s only been a couple of years—it feels like he’s been living in my head for way longer than that.

The image below is the first picture I ever drew of Harold (and the Monster, though I think he changed way more). This image popped into my head while I was out running, and I went straight home and put it on paper. I remember it really clearly, because it was one of the rare occasions when I managed to draw exactly what I had seen in my head. (This happens pretty regularly now, which is gratifying. I guess spending an hour or more on art every day for a year makes a difference!)

The first Harold drawing, from the spring of 2015.

The first Harold drawing, from the spring of 2015.

A lot of the current incarnation of Harold is there in the first sketch—Monster, bunny, kitchen appliance, check—though it would all go through numerous designs and redesigns between then and when I started drawing this comic in June 2017.

Here are some sketches I did as Harold continued to develop (and well before I knew his story).

Note that coffee was always a part of Harold’s character. This is something he and I have in common.

Note that coffee was always a part of Harold’s character. This is something he and I have in common.

At the time, I was frustrated that I couldn’t get Harold to look like he did in that early image. Eventually I decided that I liked this more expressive version of the character better anyway.

Harold, again with coffee. Actually, the original opening of the story was a multi-panel montage of a sleepy Harold making a French press of coffee. So...I may have a problem.

Harold, again with coffee. Actually, the original opening of the story was a multi-panel montage of a sleepy Harold making a French press of coffee. So...I may have a problem.

Getting a little closer to the final Harold. Regarding his feet: I eventually decided that only Harold’s head would be rabbit.

Getting a little closer to the final Harold. Regarding his feet: I eventually decided that only Harold’s head would be rabbit.

To be clear, Harold’s not me. 

There are some semi-autobiographical notes in there, for sure:

I worked for several years as a barista, and still sometimes think how nice it would be to run a coffee shop. In that way, Harold is sort of an alternate-universe version of myself.

I have been known to overreact to things, much like Harold, though I think you’ll find that his temper outdoes mine by a fair bit.

My wife’s nickname for me is “Bunny,” stemming from an occasion when I didn’t hear her calling “Honey?”, but responded immediately to “Bunny?”

For the record, Harold’s name isn’t a (deliberate) pun. I actually didn’t notice the Hare-old thing until someone pointed it out to me, which is both embarrassing and shocking, if you know my love of bad puns. Harold is named for Harold Crick, Will Ferrell’s character in Stranger Than Fiction. I adore the film, and saw a connection between the two characters, both of whom struggle to understand the completely bizarre situation in which they find themselves. If you haven’t seen it, go do that immediately—it’s great.

Anyway, that’s where Harold came from—a random flash of inspiration, followed by about two years of working to make sense of it. I’m thrilled to finally share Harold’s story with you, and I hope you’ll keep coming back for more!

If you have questions, or suggestions for future blog posts, leave them in the comments below, and I’ll get to them as soon as I can.

Thanks for reading!

Ok, here’s one last early Harold sketch. I rejected this design because it looks way too much like one of the Tiny Toons characters.

Ok, here’s one last early Harold sketch. I rejected this design because it looks way too much like one of the Tiny Toons characters.