Thanks to everyone at Project Fibonacci and Artistree for their continued support!
We would like to congratulate @frankpage on his 5,000th @btsquirrel comic strip! Full STEAM ahead! pic.twitter.com/T9dFOKucts
— Project Fibonacci (@ProFibonacci) June 12, 2017
This is me… from the beginning of my senior year in high school to this morning. There are a few gaps in the series – 1993, 1994, 1996, 1997, 1998 and oddly 2002 are missing. I could probably fill those gaps with something if I looked hard, but what you see are the “official” portraits of those years. Time flies… click on the image to see a bigger version.
This doesn’t mean anything to the text… I just love this flower from our sunflower garden.
It all starts with one person.
The bigger something gets, the more help you need. The more help you need, the less you see.
The moon landings relied on the innovative minds and sacrifices of half a million people. Neil, Buzz, Pete, Alan, Alan, Ed, Dave, Jim, John, Charlie, Gene and Jack couldn’t take their strolls without help. The great thing is… they themselves were the first to admit that.
There’s so much that I dig about comics. So much. I’ve waxed poetic time and time again about the reasons. But “THE” reason, the one biggie, didn’t really hit me until this morning. Well, this reason has hit me before… but it hit me hard today… like, hard enough to leave a mark hard.
It’s all me.
Good, bad whatever… it’s all me. No one else sets my panels up. No one else lines my boards. No one else writes it. No one else draws or inks it. No one else scans or posts it. It’s all me. It’s a collaboration of one.
Solo work is increasingly rare these days. Duh, it still exists… but there are definitely more collaborations than not. I’m not just referring to cartooning either. Take a look around if you don’t believe me.
Life in the middle. I don’t feel it. Well, I take that back… sometimes I feel it. When I get up in the morning: the stiffness of the night takes a bit more of the morning to work out than it once had. When I look in the mirror: I’m seeing more of my forehead and less of my hair… and the hair I do see is slightly peppered with salt.
I tend to think about life way more… which is saying a lot considering I do that all the time anyway… I think about my family more… and see that priorities, proclivities, intentions, inclinations and perspectives have shifted to such a degree that… I’m just a different person. I’ve always thought about tomorrow, it’s just now there’s less tomorrow to think about.
I’ve lived long enough to see patterns and cycles complete and come back again. I’ve lived long enough to see that I am now the generation younger generations look to. Living is now attached to a responsibility I never had before. I really don’t want that responsibility, but as my mother always said, “Tough sh-t, you have to deal with it.”
As a kid, I remember grown-ups being so… grown up. I see that they were as old then as I am now. Why don’t I act like them? I don’t feel it at all.
I tend to look at the sky and clouds more. I try and jam more feeling and thoughts into my brain. Extra memories for the days I can’t make as many. I worry. I obsess. The problem with constantly thinking about tomorrow is that you neglect today. I’m working on that too.
The notion that we are all “works in progress” is more apparent to me than it ever was. We’re not perfect out of the box.
The tone of the strip is changing to reflect this part of the life cycle. It wasn’t from design, it’s just organic. I can’t help it… it goes where it goes. It’d be foolish to even try and write from the perspective of the 26-year-old who began this journey. It wouldn’t work. It is what it is: a little stiffer, more mature with a dash of experience and bitterness.
I welcome you to the dawning (and drawing) of Frank’s middle age.