GOING DEAF FOR A LIVING

I should preface this before I really dig in just to be sure i am being very clear: any perceived cynicism or over the top irony should be taken with a massive grain of salt, as indeed any or all of my writings here need to be.

It is nothing more or less than a self applied bandage over a freely bleeding heart. Art cannot be made without deep feeling, and much of what passes as the real thing these days is no more than a Hollywood zombie film, all fake blood and clever illusions. By contrast, my work is a snuff film. I'm dieing right on the page/canvas/ paper.

Ok?

Right then, San Diego. Dear God, while I was away, somebody feed the fucker a shitload of vitamins By the last day I had my doubts if I was going to get out alive. There must have been twenty people there I hadn't seen in years that I simply couldn't get to. If any of you are reading this you understand, I hope.

frankly I worked my ass off. Seriously off. I was very, very deeply touched by the shear number of people who took the time to find me and say hello, get something signed or just to shake my hand. As a "Special Guest", (whatever that means, I had no special, different or otherwise out of the ordinary treatment i could discern) off course one is obliged to host a panel, though, thinking to myself, what in gods name would any comics fan or art aficionado want to see me for? I mean, I hadn't even made a public appearance in seven years, and none in San Diego for over a decade. Granted I do have a new book out this November, (fingers crossed.) so one gathers that a convention of San Diego's shear apocalyptic magnitude would need more half assed panels than not.

I was wrong. I was loved, and appreciated, in equal measure to the love and respect I try most heartily to give each and every person that has ever put down their hard earned money to feed me, ok mostly mega corporations of which I would get a table scrap or two. But still, you know, it felt wonderful. While i was there I certainly didn't come home having inked a huge deal, or with pockets full of cash , oh no, far from it.

I am however most grateful for the response to the book and hopefully it will translate into respectable numbers bearing in mind that it is coming out through the smallest of small publishers. Canny business man that I am, I am very good at shooting myself in the foot. I suppose I would rather be appreciated than rich.

Believe me, a huge influx of cash would be more than welcome right now. If I had not bashed out the requisite convention sketches and the amazing Ryan Graff of Eidolon Fine Arts had not hand bound four extremely beautiful copies of "Boy" to sell I would not have either eaten or made it home. ( A hundred and fifty dollars for five days of airport parking and another sixty for gas to get two hundred plus miles home...at the ungodly hour of two thirty am.)

And speaking very briefly of Eidolon Fine Arts, It is distinctly possible that I may be signing with them if and when the bugs can be worked out. More on that in a future posting.

So, to sum it all up as the day begins and the sun rises as ever, San Diego has become a monstrous, cynical venue of mass exploitation and naked ego, where every one and absolutely everything has been marketed down to the lowest common denominator, it is also,if you look one of the most amazing destinations for serious and astute popular art lovers the world has ever seen. Just pack a lunch and tranks.

So , my hello's: Dave and Claire, Jim and Bebe, Shelly Bond, XmadmX, Barron Story, Jason Shawn Alexander, Shelly Wan, John Watkiss, in abstention, Lee Moyer, Sioux and the GG's, Stephen Murphy, I felt your ghost hovering, and last but not least, Death...she was a total sweetheart. And it goes without saying but I will, I simply couldn't have done it without my dear Karen. Thanks for the ideas babe.

Peace,

M.Z.

ps: photo, the lovely Gail Potoki and me own Karen, aka Fhionn.

m.z.

.

RESTING, 1, 2, 3.

Sorry for the delay. I'm just totally knackered. The transition from pop mania Apocalypse to the average household catch-up from a weeks absence is both startling and unnerving.

I have not done anything like this in many many years and frankly, I am utterly whipped.

I write this in a hurry just to quell any anxiety and to let you know that I WILL be back shortly with a posting of more substance and insight into just what it was from my perspective, good and not so good.

Until then please understand I simply need a bit more time to rest, digest, and organize the thoughts about the wonder and horror of San Diego.

Peace,

M.Z.

GOD, THE DEVIL, AND THE KNIGHT

Here comes the night.

What do I mean by that?In a minute.

I am fully aware that I have not been here for quite some time. At one point I was of the opinion that the more I was here, at least on some level, the better it was for both you gentle reader, and for me to explain the ins and outs of my creative life. Please bear in mind that I've never been one to spill my guts in a sort of electronic frenzy that seems so common these days. So, for the large part, I've refrained from what I see as a kind of orgy of self flagellation. But, trust me it hasn't been a bowl of cherries. Several months ago I came very, very close to being hospitalized for a bad reaction to anti biotics,[runs in the family.] and a newly developed ulcer. This was just literally the day before I was scheduled to appear at C2E2 in Chicago. It's taken months of rest and medication to get back some semblance of myself. Needless to say I haven't been exactly Mr. fireball in the studio.

OH, then there is "Fracture of the Universal Boy" to contend with. From my perspective, the damn thing has eaten me alive for years now. That's no exaggeration. I'm not indulging in artistic bullshit here, I meant every word I just wrote. I've barely been able to draw since I finished it.

If and until it is actually published I simply won't be the same. I can't move on and I absolutely can not go back. And thee is one thing that will utterly kill an artists work than not going forward. Believe me when I say, I am really ready to move on and explore new ideas, concepts and ways of making art. This brings me to the edge of San Diego. I WILL BE THERE. "Boy" will be for sale in November. PERIOD. Please come see me, Attend the panel where I plan to remove the "ME" on stage and "YOU" down there where I deliver witty bon mots from my ivory tower.

Frankly I don't have one. Never liked the idea. I'm just a working guy that sees the world a little differently than you. That's my job, and mostly I've been petty lucky in that I get paid to do it. Not great pay by any means but usually enough to get by. Ok, some I made the decision to not be a wage slave to a essentially mindless system that takes more than they give and makes you believe it's good for you. My cross to bear ok? I knew how hard it would be, and how risky it was, but to my mind it was a better choice than being used like an Kleenex and disposed of by the small, nasty gods of pop culture. Right here I want to publicly thank Mr. Ryan Graff and Mr. Thomas Negovan for the work, the belief and the patience to help me shepard this book home. They both are rare and wonderful men.

I ask you, now, right now, I must now actually plead with you to put your hard earned money down and buy my book. For me, it's a matter of life and death. I am not exaggerating at all. It is all that stands between me, my home and ruin. Come see me in San Diego, get something signed, buy art, talk to me about whatever is on your mind, I will listen. It is my firm, unbending belief that art is at it's best when there is Independence and integrity behind it. Not what's "hot" not what's being sold to you, but something free and possibly dangerous. It's what changes lives, minds and hearts. It has mine.

I will more than likely not be back here until it's all over, but I promise I will be back with a real rundown of the whole deal with evidence and crime scene photo's to back me up. Until that time, two things: wish me luck, as I firmly believe in the power of good will and please understand that however anonymous you feel you are, I value you and truly appreciate your support.

Peace,

M.Z.

ps: yeah, i never did explain what i meant by that opening line, or, maybe i did, eh?

m.z.

THE DEAL

I'm writing this as a sort of public service announcement and frankly to keep from writing twelve individual letters that would only say basically the same thing.

As many of you seem to know already, I will be making my first public appearance in seven years at the big Chicago convention next month. I will be hosted by the Century Guild and I'm there to promote my new release that no doubt you all are heartily sick of hearing about.

I simply want to state on the record that I will not be there to sketch and I will not be selling drawings to order. I will not be accepting commissions for head sketches or anything else.

On the other hand, I will be more than happy to sign anything of mine you care to have signed.

I simply want to meet you all and talk about the new book. There will be an exclusive sneak peek sort of book there for sale and there will be stand alone artwork for sale. All of which are non comics related, so if you are looking for a page from "The wake'...well, those pages were all sold many years ago. I personally have almost no old comics pages at all in my possession, and what I do have is not for sale...I am not sitting on a vast hoard of old Sandman pages. I have none at all, having sold them all nearly a decade ago. I hope this is not coming across as harsh, I'm not trying to be intentionally hardass about this...I just don't do Con's anymore to sell sketches, in fact i sincerely doubt I will ever be found with a drawing book in my hand at a convention or book signing again. I've been there and done that to death years ago. I honestly care about all of you out there, but the times change and I've changed with them. I simply want to relax and meet you all, and of course sign things that are either current or part of my past. Do you understand?

I hope so.

peace,

M.Z.

NEW STUFF.

I've gone and sold out my friends.

A case in point: at the Olympian publishing website you can, for a limited time purchase for your very own selves, a Fracture of the Universal Boy tee shirt. The print run on them was very low and You can, for a reasonable fee wear the very same tee shirt that two un- named British people are wearing right this minute. And we all know how fashionable British people are.

And in case you are wondering, I, me, myself makes not a dime on them. They are promotional items of exquisite rarity that deserve a good home and will help in a small, but effective way to spread the gospel of me. Go on, you know you want one. Summer will be here sooner than you think.

I'd appreciate it a lot you guys.

Peace,

M.Z.

THANK YOUSE GUYS.

A very heartfelt thanks to all of you who have written in either to express concern or to ask for a piece of commissioned work. I'm all set and have the things I need to do all lined up.
I'll be busy from a few weeks so I may not get back for a bit. Never fear, you all are never far from my mind...I've been blessed with while not millions of you, I do have a core of quantity people who give a shit. More than I deserve probably. Thankful none the less.

Now, on with the show..oh, and Karen is doing fine, considering.

Peace,

M.Z.

COME ONE, COME ALL...

Yesterday afternoon My dear Karen, "Fhionn' to many of you was in a serious automobile accident and I need to ask anyone who is interested that as of now, I am taking commissioned work to raise funds. Anything is on the table, Sandman, Death, anything. Prices are reduced from my usual thousand to eight hundred shipping in the U.S. is free. I'll be able to take the first two. Any more and I will not be able to guarantee prompt delivery. Please be advised I am out of my usual ink, but I can still do full color, quite large pieces that I assure you will be my very best.

Please write. We both thank you.

Much love to you all.

M.Z.