[dc]I[/dc] am selling my comic wares at Cherry Capital Comic Con this weekend. I am at booth/table/spot #808, near the gaming room.
Buy my stuff.
Come visit and buy a print, sketch, mini-comic, sticker, sketch card–or all of ’em.
Yo.
[dc]A[/dc]s I worked on a new batch of sketch cards the other night, Stephanie looked over my shoulder and remarked, “How is it such cute, adorable things can come out of your dark, tangled mind?”
No one has ever done this joke before.
I merely shrugged. I go with my instinct, be it a cutesy watercolor cartoon of Chewbacca or a comic strip about a mutant corn dog. I am a complicated man, and unlike Shaft¹, even my woman doesn’t understand me.
Aw jeeeez.
My two attempts selling sketch cards at shows taught me a couple of things: Cute sells, and funny sells. Since photo-realistic drawings are not in my skill wheelhouse, cute and funny it is for my sketch cards.
I know from my experience as a comic convention attendee, I’m more likely to buy something which is ‘different.’ Meaning, a cartoony watercolor Boba Fett² is more likely to get my attention over an on-model ‘serious’ piece. But, that’s me. People like what they like, so there’s no reason not to try the cute and/or funny route.
[dc]W[/dc]hat I like most about drawing and painting sketch cards is, it offers me the chance to do quick throw away gags. Many of my sketch cards act as one panel comics in this way. My latest is no exception.
It’ll sell like hot cakes. Hot cakes, Jerry.
Yes, Ico the Dolphin. Mashing up two video game characters: Ico and Ecco the Dolphin. This is how my mind works, kids. Ico is very much on my mind after playing through the entire game this past month (read all about it).
The next step is adding color using watercolor paint, such as:
A favorite.
I still have plans to sell these cards online. I created a Storenvy account, but I still need to set up my shop. My goal is to have it up before heading to Cherry Capital Comic Con next weekend (so I can say, “Yes, you can buy these online.”).
[dc]T[/dc]he ending of a video game is emotional, and Ico was no exception.
Any video game can lead to an emotional connection. Heck, I’m sure there are folks who tear up at the Pac-Man kill screen.
Pac-man kill screen. Image via Wikipedia.
You spend hours with the characters, sometimes months, it is difficult not to get attached in some way.
Get Ico for PlayStation 3. Image via Amazon.
Last week I said I didn’t feel too strong of a relationship for Ico or Yorda. That was last week. The last leg of Ico changed my mind.
Spoilers, Ahoy!
I feel I don’t need to offer up a spoiler warning for a game dating back to the early 2000s, but as someone who only learned about Ico in the past year, I suppose fair is fair.
Panic in the Fortress
Ico always offered up a sense of panic, as I said before, a sort of slow-burn, suspenseful panic—not an explosion every ten seconds, yelling bad guys panic. The empty surroundings, the high cliffs, the musical cues of the shadows intent on stealing Yorda away: it all creates a sense of silent panic and tension.
Like I said in my first post, there’s a saying in radio broadcasting: if you want the audience to pay attention, be quiet.
Because, when you start to talk again, the audience really notices.
Or in Ico‘s case, when the crap hits the fan, the audience really notices.
