Uncertainty
I submitted a pitch to Pulping’s subsequent issue after its first, Comics on Comics, debuted last year. At the launch of their first anthology, I saw friends and other artists I looked up to share their work on the medium I had admired since high school. The comics community of Toronto is something I still find myself on the fringes of, peering in like an excited kid at the zoo. I love comics, despite the process of creating them being daunting and vacillating, no matter how many times I do it. But when the call went out for their second issue, I knew I had to push myself to apply, even if I didn’t know how I’d follow through.
I proposed a concept for the edition’s theme of “reality” to reflect the common and crushing weight of existential dread with living in the world. I kind of low-balled myself, only offering two pages. I doubted my ability to express how I felt about the world at large and my own problems, but it turns out I’m a yapper and had a lot to say on the matter. I ended up focusing on my fears about coming into my own, becoming an adult, or whatever that means.
At the time I made this comic, I was staring down the end of my six-year-long art school career, panicking about post-grad life and catastrophizing about my personal relationships. It all felt so overwhelming, and I felt alone. I’d talk to myself, my partner, and, evidently, my dog about thinking my life was crumbling around me. I could see the person that I was rapidly changing in front of me, and the obscurity of who that would turn into scared the shit out of me. The thing is, that kind of decay is usually necessary for something new to grow from it. That uncertainty is where this comic developed.
The fear of what comes after is all too common for the pursuer of an art degree. A month out from my graduate exhibition, I was severely crashing out regarding my future. I was a nervous wreck and unable to ground myself in the reality I was facing and the great experiences that could come with it. Naturally, I felt the best voice of reason in this matter was my dog. The life of an animal seems luxurious in the ways that they lack human worries. I’m so jealous of the fact that they don’t need to know what a credit score or taxes are. And while the challenges of being an adult in the world are something I can’t simply shut my eyes to, there are still things in my control that can make these problems more manageable. Enter the humble dog, who is unabashed about asking for care, attention, rest, or play. That’s really all I’m trying to say here. You can’t change the world, or even your life, in one day, and dwelling on that is futile. Sometimes, all you can do is keep yourself afloat, and the big stuff will happen anyway.
