Friction

I drew this on the porch of my old apartment. Gramps, this big hulking dog was bleeding all over the place from a war-wound he got in the dog park. And I was running around going “oh-my-god, do NOT get dog juice on my drawing!” Then gramps would shake his head and the blood was flying from his ripped ear.

Anyway, Robyn and her mom were good enough to sit for me. I’ve been trying to get this one right for a while. I had to get some real-life love and tension to put on the page. Family, you just can’t get away without being harnessed with a whole mess of baggage. I myself am going to Arizona this weekend to indulge in some inter-generational hostilities. I miss my mom and dad.

I found some notes from when I was reading Man and His Symbols:

Individuation is the process of self-realization, a natural and spontaneous process of the psyche. It can’t be taken completely in itself, because in order to mold or shape resistance is needed.

Resistance . . .
Like friction it can give you a little carpet burn or wear you down to a bloody nub.

But in the end I guess it’s the tough crap that makes you stronger. Can you tell I need a pep talk?

Oh well, I’m gonna watch some trashy tv. What’s on? I don’t care as long as there’s semi-nudity and conspicuous product placement.