Tuesday, February 15, 2011


I have spent my entire life looking at art and can recognize artists from their distinct linework, the way they ink, they way they color, but I'm sure no one would care if I told them that Doug Manhke was one of the best artists I have ever seen, or Jimmy Palmiotti, or Todd Klein.

I think we've made some headway into the fine arts world with artists like Alex Ross, James Jean, Paul Pope and others at the fore, painting up some of the most beautiful covers I have ever seen, but what about Joe Kubert, Will Eisner, Sal Buscema? Does anyone say that these guys are amazingly talented artists in the world of non-geekdom. Probably not. I doubt that the layman even knows what a Kirby Krackle is, but I'd give them more chance of that than knowing what Neal Adams Deadman looks like.

I don't want this to be a big bitch session, but I think there is a slight injustice in the world when some twat can paint a pea on a canvas and sell it for a million dollars while some others were working at an artboard near everyday producing bodies of art that are just staggeringly massive. I feel a lucky to have seen John Cassidy's artwork, to have first seen Frank Miller as a kid in between the pages of a Daredevil magazine, to be in absolute awe of Frank Quitely, Arthur Adams, Moebius, Ladronn, and a slew of other creators out there.

I've liked lines clean, lines dirty, lines in-between. I've gazed at martian landscapes through the eyes of others and been bedazzled by other dimensions, some of them lying just beneath my feet. I guess this is a love letter to the art between the covers, and to the bastards that have the patience to take the time and flesh out the words of fellas like me. Thanks guys, you make us look good, and on a personal level you have brought me on so many interesting journeys when I needed a little break.


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