Cats in the Kitchen

It felt good pouring the time I did into that top panel. I think I’m getting the hang of drawing the main street. Except there’s no people. We’ll assume it just stopped raining.

On a youth trip, one of my friends got some glass embedded in his foot while walking in a lake. As the only person with a first aid kit, I took it upon myself to get the wound cleaned, first pulling out the bits of glass with a pair of tweezers and flushing it out with alcohol. The cut had left a half-inch strip of skin hanging  off the side of his toe, and I tried to convince him to let me cut it off. (I had no training or knowledge whatsoever. I just hate dangly bits of dead skin, and tend to rip them off of my own wounds) His look of sheer panic as I held the superscissors, trying to convince him it was a good idea is permanently etched into the visual cortex of my brain. At the time though, I honestly thought it was the best thing for him, and my brain didn’t register how afraid he was.

Anyway, this isn’t the case for Midnight. She is very much aware how afraid Alan is…

Seaking of fear, here’s a pretty little comic about death that’s just starting out and needs some love: Helvetica. So far a recently deceased boy has been dragged around the land of the dead by the welcoming comity, getting new clothes and an apartment. It’s all very colourful and energetic, it feels a bit like Tiny Kitten Teeth, except with skeletons, and, y’know, coherency…