Reflections on SPACE Part 3

In Reflections one I talked about not selling much at SPACE. In Reflections two, I talked about not really caring about it. Together they formed a very simple question: “Why should Nick Jones attend comic conventions if his main goal is to simply tell a story?” To tell you the truth, it took me a while to answer this question.

I’ve never been comfortable at comic conventions (mostly because the conversation revolves around the newest issues of Spiderman, how comic movies are different from comic books and why the new stuff just doesn’t compare to the old stuff. If the conversation was about various methods of inking/publication, the differences between men & women and why stripper names don’t make good baby names, I’d be all about it), I’m not very good at making new friends, and I don’t have the personality to “sell” myself. So why would I try to go to more and more conventions? Is it because of my recent realization that I want to expand my comfort zone? Is it because, compared to a lot of stuff at small press conventions, Tiny Life is a work of high-end art?

No.

I go because keeping a story in my head or writing it down and keeping it in a closet amount to the same thing. It’s like keeping a diary; sure it helps to organize thoughts and it’s fun to look back on when you have kids (I remember saying something like “At my age – 17 – parents are only good for monetary reasons. I’ve learned all I can from them”), but it doesn’t really do much of anything but sit there on a shelf.

It’d be like having a dream of buying a Lamborghini. You can’t afford a new one so you buy used, fix it up in your spare time, and dream of all 14 cylinders blaring at once. But once it’s fixed up, you’re too afraid to take it anywhere because you worked so hard on it. So it sits.

Or the kid could end up dressing like this in order to feel special.

Or, since art is more of a living thing, it’d be more like always having a picture of your child in your head, and then after years of trying and preparing, you finally have that kid you always wanted. Except now it’s so precious to you that you keep it in a closet so that no one in the world can ever see it or hurt it. Eventually that Lambo is going to seize up; eventually that kid is going to have some serious mental disorders that involve ordering hookers to squash cockroaches in high heels.

So I go to conventions just to take Tiny Life for a spin, to expose it to the sunlight for a day.

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One Response

  1. […] After thinking long and hard (no penis jokes please) about why I don’t really care that much about…, I realized that I’m like that too: after being finished for more than a year, I still have to contact Diamond about distributing “left”.  I constantly work on the Next Thing. […]

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