I was looking at the strip this morning and remembering ballooning it several weeks ago--my first time ballooning anything, with theferrett looking patiently on as Noob!Cat fumbled through the software, trying to retain something about caption placement and where the reader-eye goes.
I was just excited as all hell. Balloons going up on a piece of art makes it a Real Comic, the same way seeing the cover to your novel for the first time makes it a Real Book. I didn't think I'd get that little thrill just from putting a photoshop rectangle on a page, but I did. Comics are so new for me, their little ways and means delight me. Maybe there's a graphic novel in my future, after all.
As you might imagine, it's also a little weird to restrict myself to so many words. Ferrett and I use Google Docs and have begun to settle into a collaborative format--collaboration is also new to me--but it's sad when he axes half my page and he's totally right to do so. My pretty, pretty words! Come back! Minimalism has never been my strong suit. I'm deeply glad to have my first webcomic experience with someone who's been at that gig for awhile.
Learning is fun!
In other news, the Omikuji Project, so long as you all dig the name, looks like it's a go, so I'll start working on its various structural bits. The first story will go out April 1st, and I'll let you know when I have the subscription system set up.
I met a woman a few years ago, whose name I will keep to myself in case she'd be embarrassed, and I took her out to dinner at a Korean restaurant. The food in Korean joints often comes in a dozen or more small bowls, and it feels like such a feast. The woman looked at all the wonderful food and made a chittering noise in the back of her throat like a bird. I totally got what she meant--animal delight in plenty, in a million bowls of seed to choose from. My brain makes that sound now whenever I have a million projects to work on. Such plenty, such fun, all laid out on a table in front of me.
Enough to last through the winter.