Tag Archives: frank thorne

Mara Page 7

Standard


As Mara goes deeper and deeper down into her own self, her own struggles, and her understanding of her world, I guess it’s about time to go deeper about where her world, and in fact, mine, came from.

It was a long time ago, I picked up a copy of Warren’s “1984,” an uncommonly good issue, but two things really stood out, Frank Thorne’s “Ghita,” and Jose Gonzalez’s “Herma.” I was a really young artist when I found this, and this single magazine, probably as much as seeing the Hobbit in 4th grade, then later Star Wars, influenced me in a truly life changing way, it game me an artistic vision. When I saw those two masterpieces of exploitation and fantasy comics… I KNEW exactly what I wanted to do.

Needless to say, it seemed a miracle to me years later when I was headed to Frank Thorne’s studio to finally meet and talk with one of the artists who changed my life. Example below is scanned right from that ragged old copy of “1984.”

I managed to set up a meeting with Frank thanks to my fearless pursuit of mentorship. Fantagraphics had sent him some Mara to look at before they decided to pick up the series, and Frank sent back a bunch of notes and even some overlays in which he drew over my drawings to show me where I had gone wrong. These overlays were revelatory, but so was the fact that Fantagraphics had forgotten to black out Frank’s address and phone number, so, I called him. Immediately he let me know that any time I was in Jersey, I could stop by. Immediately I began planning a drive from Ohio to New Jersey, and through a raging blizzard, made my way to Frank Thorne’s studio… life and art changing event.

No less influential, and you’ll see this as you look at a lot of these images where Mara is descending stairs, was Jose Gonzalez’s exquisite “Herma,” though I never met Gonzalez, his work has had a profound influence over me, and below, again, is a scan from that very same ragged copy of “1984.” And if you look at the past couple pages, and pages to come, you’ll see the influence of his backgrounds in my work.

Oddly, as I have begun the inking process, I have been slowly draining those influences from the work and allowing my style to dominate… this I had not seen coming, but I am pleased at last to be happy enough with my own style to be allowing it to overcome the love of my influences.

If you love what you are seeing, please note that I am creating these pages with a return of NOTHING, so I am seeking patrons. Monthly patronage would really help this project come along, and my patrons get all manner of cool exclusives: https://www.patreon.com/barefootjustine

In Defense Of Eros & Fantasy (parts 1 & 2)

Standard

Here they are, by student request, parts 1 and 2 of my lecture on the value of erotic, exploitive and fantastic images. In a culture where R. Crumb is seen as a threat to “safe space,” it’s time to start speaking up. Below are my thoughts on eroticism, covering everything from the mystical to the Exploitation Cinema, comics, quotes all a lot of thoughts.

No, they don’t make movies for us anymore, the sorts of fantasies I love have fallen out of favor, but I’m going to keep them going, and do a little talking, too.

If you want to support my own erotic work, check this out: https://www.patreon.com/barefootjustine

Thanking the Masters

Standard

It’s Thanksgiving, a day I really don’t give much thought to. I always enjoyed it, the feast and all, but it was never a day that inspired me to feel gratitude. I try and feel gratitude for someone or something every day and at every opportunity, and I try and put words to it as often as possible. Even most of my meditations before Shiva, Ganesh and Durga are more often than not merely me projecting gratitude towards them. I grew up in a Christian tradition where I was taught that God was, for all practical purposes, dead, retired, no longer all that evident; so now, as a practicing Hindu (of the Western variety), I have been shocked at how much more involved the Deities have been in my life… and for how much more immediately I feel grateful.

Today, for Thanksgiving, Joe and I went out for lunch… I had no other plans or invites, which was fine by me, I would rather eat with one than with 12 anyhow. I know how to behave around 1, I’m clueless around 12… so I hide and plan my escape… whereas with 1 I can relax and be content. We went to Boston Market, as I knew they’d have a decent Thanksgiving spread, and not only was the spread decent, but the employees were kind and joyful. I hope and assume they were pleased to be there getting time-and-a-half pay… they were awful smiley about something. I was thankful for the food, the pleasantness of the experience, and the lack of pressure and stress I would have felt in Ohio with my family. The whole experience was simply good and easy.

After that my only other plan was to meet with a student, who, like many of our students, are somewhat displaced here, like I, far from what was once “home” and family. As I was heading out I was bellyaching a little inside… wondering why I was going off to the school (SAW) to meet with a student on Thanksgiving day. Who the heck else is doing that on Thanksgiving? Well, the joyful souls at Boston Market were doing that… but again, I assume they were getting time-and-a-half.

What was I doing?

Well, I know what I was doing. It came to me as I was about to leave my house and get into my car. My thoughts went first to Saraswati (Goddess of arts and Knowledge–among other things), and I thanked her, and I decided to drop all my bellyaching thoughts, realizing that it was my duty–and not in a dreadful way, either… it is simply my duty to draw and teach, and more importantly to pass along all I know. It is a duty of the highest order, one that must be fulfilled in gratitude, especially on Thanksgiving.

And I realized why else I was going: to pay thanks to my teachers, to the many artists who befriended me, who tolerated me, who got me through, who gave far more to me than I had any right to expect. I was going to pass along all they had passed to me, and that is a divine duty, one worthy of Saraswati, Thanksgiving, and my time. As I set my mind on Saraswati, my duty, and gratitude, I realized how happy I was, how content, and how brilliantly the sun was shining. I was bowing in gratitude before my teachers, my Masters, my gurus, as I drove to meet my student. I was going on Thanksgiving to thank them… thank you…

P. Craig Russell – for being the first, for tolerating my ignorance and youth, and for teaching me to get over myself, to love Disney, and for showing me through example the power of grace and elegance,

Val Mayerik – for the obscene amount of time you devoted to me, to my development, for teaching me to kick ass with hands and fists, and for being my father when I had none,

Dan Adkins – for learning from Wally Wood, for passing it along to Craig and Val, and then for showing me that you could spend the rest of your life in love with the brush, and for the stories… dear God… those Dan Adkins stories,

Jim Steranko – for the most profound and chillingly insightful portfolio reviews ever,

Frank Thorne – for being a God when I needed one, for the warm glow of your charming wife, for revealing the secrets of your work, and for the warmth of your home when I so needed you,

John Workman – for the gentle knowledge and compassionate enthusiasm for the things that really matter in art and comics,

Tom Hart – for showing me that teaching is as grand a life purpose as the making of art, for patience, and for seeing how much I had to offer in a world that has so often overlooked and dismissed me,

Jeffrey Catherine Jones – for so much more than I could put to words, for teaching me the Yin Yang value of white as well as black, for allowing me to trust my work, for showing me the path I needed to follow, and mostly for treating me like an equal,

Jean Rollin – for a love of Sadeian decadence, and for that amazing weekend in New York, I will treasure forever having known a legend such as you, rest in peace, you and dear Jeffrey both.

And to my students… thanks for giving me the chance to keep alive the lessons these Masters taught me. Thank you, in a world that values little of the past, less of tradition, and far far too much of modernity; thank you for letting this old broad rant and fill you with a love of craft and discipline, for the chance to argue that sacrifice and discipline matter, for letting me swim upstream with the message that artistic limitations and ignorance are not to be embraced as stylistic victories. Carry it on into the future, no matter how much the rest of the world of comics and art slips and stumbles into the sewage of the post-modernist cult of self-expression… thanks for carrying at least a little of what matters with you. You can have as much of it as you like, even on Thanksgiving day.