Seattle Side Trip (Patreon)

Last week I spent a day with my dear friend Tominda, an old Shepherdstown pal, on what just happened to be West Virginia Day. (Both of us woke up wearing West Virginia shirts, which was completely unplanned but clearly written in the stars!)

Tominda is a tattoo artist at Super Genius Tattoo in Seattle, half a mile up the hill from the convention center where ECCC takes place in March. Since I skipped out on ECCC this year, I decided to drive up to see her while I'm so close to Seattle. 

Every time I see Tom, I leave with another tattoo; she always generously insists. This was the first time I'd ever gotten something that she designed. I'm probably going to giggle every time I look at my right arm for the rest of my life. This weird little cat-person-thing is so goofy. :3

Tom has self-published two novels - a part of a much bigger series in her head - and is working to turn the third one into a graphic novel. I knew that, and loved her for that, but I didn't anticipate the excitement we'd both get to share while gushing to each other over the stories that, so far, only live in our heads. I told her all about mine (based in a town that she knows oh-so-well), and she told me the whole tale that she's preparing to draw, complete with forty pages of (WELL-DONE!!) thumbnails. She's never done anything like this before, but already has such a grasp on storytelling. I'm so pumped that both of us will be working on, essentially, our very first creator-owned graphic novels at the same time.

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While I was in Seattle I also grabbed lunch with my friend Shane, a caricature artist I met at last year's ISCA convention. After giving me a little tour of Seattle, he invited me to come draw with a few caricature artists later that night, at a bar conveniently close to Super Genius. 

If you ever get an invitation to hang out with caricature artists, for Pete's sake DO IT. They're the best kind of people. They're fun and confrontational and they will draw EVERYONE at the table and never pull a single punch. 

This is why I adore hanging out with caricaturists. Not only are they massive nerds about drawing, there are no eggshells to walk on in this crew; every wrinkle on every face is honored. Gerald (whom I drew at the bottom of my sketch page) had never met me before, but couldn't stop loudly marveling at the "37 lines" that appear in my neck when I laugh. It reminds me of the Deaf community; there's something about being forced to look people in the eye on a regular basis that makes everyone confrontational, but also emotionally sturdy enough to receive confrontation and instead of feeling attacked, feeling unified.

I met a sweet trans gal named Felicia (bottom left sketch) while I was there, and when she sat down to join the table, I felt an instinctual sense of protection over her. I guess I tend to have a protective feeling over any woman who sits with a group of guys - how will this boys' club treat her? - but especially over someone who only recently began to identify as a woman, as was the case with Felicia. And especially when that boys' club focuses on the way people look, and when that woman is particularly prone to being sensitive about the way she looks.

It didn't take long for me to realize that not only did Felicia know these guys well (and probably well before her transition), but she was also a member of this confrontational caricature family. She knew better than I did what kind of people caricature artists are, and was one of them herself. It seemed there was no distinction between her and the other artists; she was safe, because she was with her crew.

What's the word for "no one is safe" while at the same time, everyone is safe? I wish the whole world could feel as at-ease as a person who's embraced by a group of caricature artists.