I Swore I'd Never Go Back

I went to college in northern New Jersey at a small place called the Joe Kubert School of Cartoon and Graphic Arts. I went there for three years, graduated, and continued working as an artist for both a small art studio and, later, Marvel Comics. I lived there until I just couldn't stand it any more and in 1996, on my 25th birthday, I left. I didn't know where I was going but I knew I couldn't stay there anymore. So, I packed up my newly aquired Jeep Wrangler and set out on the road.

The last time I set foot in New Jersey was 2003. And, after going, I swore I would never go back.

I guess "never" for me lasts about, oh, six years or so.

As I crossed the Tapan Zee bridge in New York state and headed south on 287 I snapped a few shots from the driver's seat of the mini-van my parents had graciously allowed me to borrow. It was an odd feeling seeing the sign come up saying "Welcome to New Jersey". There was no turning back now.

My first stop on the journey was at my friend Chris Wichtendahl's house in Denville. Another old college buddy, Rob Kelly, was going to meet us there and we were going to spend the night. I got to meet Chris' daughter, Sage, who I hadn't seen since she was still in diapers. She's now eight and we hit it off immediately. I think I made a new best friend in her when she said to me, "I like you...you're just like me!" From an eight year old, I take that as a high compliment.

Rob, Chris, and I hung out most of the night until Rob and I fell asleep on his couch. I used my sweatshirt as a blanket. When Sage came out the next morning and asked if that was what I had used she told me she had tons of blankets in her room and she was too warm all night. I told her not to rub it in.

Chris went off to work and Rob and I were left to our own devices. We travelled west to Dover, the town we both gone to school in. We dropped by the school and saw how they had choppped the whole building in half. What used to be the school's parking lot was now a brand new Walgreen's. As much as nothing in that town had changed at all this new building was an odd sight. We went into the downstairs art store of the school and I ordered some new inking brushes. Unfortunately, the ones I have been using for the past fifteen years have been discontinued so I had to opt for a different model. We'll see how those work out when they arrive at my door in a few weeks.

Rob and I stopped for lunch at a local diner (the one thing I miss about New Jersey is that every town has a local diner and all of them are great...the west just has nothing to compare). We caught up some more over lunch. Rob had to take off early to get back home to south Jersey so he could email a client some sketches before the end of the business day. So, I was once again alone and making my way through more of my past.

I visited my first art boss, Mark McNabb. I had called him a few times with no answer. I figured I was close enough that I'd hate myself if I didn't try to go to his house and knock on the door. Luckily, he was home. I haven't seen him in six years and a lot has happened in his life since then. We sat on the couch of his living room and he told me stories. He's a great and moving storyteller and the time passed quickly. Before we knew it he had to get his daughter off to soccer practice and I was out the door once again and back on the road.

From the town of Lake Hopatcong I travelled south. I travelled through Morristown and Bernardsville. I hit the southern part of New Jersey and travelled west into Pennsylvania. Another friend of mine, Christine, had moved from north Jersey down to a town west of Philadelphia with her husband and, now, five kids.

Her house was beautiful as I arrived. She came out to the driveway and gave me a hug. She said the kids were excited to meet me. Christine is a fan of the art I do and, from what I can gather, in her kid's eyes, I'm some sort of rock star. They all wanted to get out of bed and see what this "famous" person looked like. Her oldest eight year old son loves the Jake Maddox books I do so I brought along the eight newest books for him. He now has a pile of them that he is reading through. He is the first one who asked me, "how did you get so famous?"

Her other kids slowly came down and peeked around corners at me to see what this God who walked among men looked like. I just had to laugh. They were all so cute.

I met Christine's husband, Chris, who was a great guy. They told me I'd have to sleep down in the basement that night. I was fine with that. I figured a cot on a basement floor would suit me fine. So, they led me down the stairs. What I saw was amazing. Their basement is bigger and nicer than anywhere I've lived in my whole life. I could easily move myself and a few friends in and still have more space than I know what to do with. So, sleep was easy.

The next morning I drew with sharpie markers all over the kids, giving them each custom tattoos of whatever they wanted. Then I accompanied Christine and the kids to Walmart to get some food for the Eagles Football game the kids were going to that night. I have never been in a Walmart with five kids before. It was quite the eye opener. I was constantly doing a head count to make sure no man was left behind. But, when the mini van door closed on the way home it seemed like everyone was accounted for.

I left Christine around three in the afternoon and made my way back through Philadelphia into south Jersey to see Rob again and share a dinner before I headed back towards Maine. After a great dinner and stories to tell Rob of what I had seen and heard in the last thirty hours I was once again on the road, heading north.

I left south Jersey around seven that night. The last boat from Maine to the island was an 11:30pm boat. With eight hours of driving in front of me I knew I'd never make it. But, the plan was to drive as far as I could and then figure it out from there. My Mapquest directions had me drive right up the Jersey Turnpike and I passed signs for Freehold and New Brunswick. I hit Newark and watched the planes come in. I hit New York City and went across the George Washington Bridge, through the Bronx, and into Conneticut.

And then I hit something I wasn't prepared for. I figured traffic would be light at ten o'clock at night. Maybe New York might get a bit backed up but once I hit Connecticut I figured I was home free. Nope. I didn't take into account night time road work where they funnel three lanes of traffic into one lane. The first trap I hit like this took me two hours to go three miles. But, I didn't mind. Where was I in a rush to anyways? I was going to miss the boat no matter what I did so I might as well relax. For part of the wait I watched Star Wars, Episode One through a mini van's back window in front of me. Once I got through a few more of these funnels I was home free.

But, I was getting tired. I ended up stopping at a rest stop on the Massachussets Turnpike and sleeping on the seats in the back of the van. It was a little tight but it's moments like that that make me thank God I'm not a big guy. Amazingly, I slept for four hours and woke up around 5:30 in the morning.

Then it was back on the road for the final push to Maine.

I arrived in Maine just in time to miss the 7:40am boat to the island and the next one wasn't until 9:15. I found a grocery store and bought myself a breakfast of a yogurt, bagel, banana, and milk. I sat in the van, watching the people start their days, eating my makeshift breakfast.

I caught the 9:15 to the island and before 10am I was back at my parents house. A quick shower and I hit the sack.

It had been a long, but very fulfilling and fun, four days. And I didn't vow this time that I would never return to New Jersey. So maybe this time I'll just stay away a year or two.

Maybe.

Edge of the Hurricane

Last week Peaks Island had the fortune (or misfortune) of being on the edge of the passing Hurricane Bill. Mix that with some very high tides brought on by the full moon and last week the back shore (the shore facing east, towards the open ocean) got pounded by a lot of very awesome waves.

My Dad piled my Mom, me, and two dogs into the car and we took a ride around the island, cameras in hand. It's a small island, only three miles wide at it's longest end and about five miles around. So, we were on the back shore in no time. And, we weren't the only ones.

Lots of people turned out to watch the awesome forces of nature hit the island. Some even tried to defy the forces of nature by sitting out on rocks and almost daring the waves to hit them. Of course, some got doused. And, of course, there is always the stories in the papers the next day of someone getting hit by a wave, sucked out by the undertow of the ocean, and drowning.

Luckily, no one on the island got killed. Just wet. Very very wet.

But it did make for a great day of taking photos. Churning seas, massive waves, and onlooking crowds made it hard to take a bad picture.

One of the spots we stopped and took a bunch of photos was a place called "Whaleback". It's a strip of rocks that looks like a humpback whale's long back.

Over the years I'm amazed it's still standing after taking the constant pounding from the ocean. My Mom says in the last few years pieces of it have eroded away but, over all, it's still standing strong.

To see how large the waves are click on the second photo and see if you can find the little people on the left watching the show. It makes it easy to see how one can get hit by a rogue wave and snagged out to sea before you even know what's going on.

And here is my Dad, rocking his Colorado pride, having a great time on a great day. He has the smile on his face of a happy little kid. Don't be surprised if this photo shows up on his Facebook page soon. I think it's a great shot of him.

So, thank you Hurricane Bill. Thank you full moon. And thank you Mother Nature.

You put on one hell of a show.

Back to the Island

So, yes, I did make my way back to Maine in one piece.

After a sketchy landing in Cleveland (the passengers all broke into cheers after the plane hit the ground and finally stopped) I hopped onto a smaller plane and it was a quick trip to Portland International Airport.

But, growing up on an island the trip doesn't stop at just a simple plane ride and someone picking you up at the airport in a car. Nope. From there, it's a ride on the ferry boat across the bay and onto Peaks Island.

It was great to be home, back to the place where I grew up. Not much has changed on the island. The houses all look a bit nicer with their new landscaping and new coats of paint but they are all in the same place and the roads that take you to them never change. It was warm and very humid when I first got here and I wasn't used to the feeling of never being completely dry, even after you get out of a shower and towel off. But things seemed to have settled and the cooling air of fall is on the way so it's felt great the last few days.

The biggest problem I did have with coming back home for a bit was stopping working. For the first few days I was here I'd wander around the house, wondering what I was supposed to be doing. I haven't had a proper vacation in two years. And, even then, when I was in Nashville, I brought work with me and was reading and laying out kid's books while I was there.

But, here in Maine, I found myself with nothing to do but sit and be still. It was hard the first few days. I even had slight headaches everyday from the constant adrenaline leaving my body but now I've lost all sense of what day it is so I think I'm finally relaxing.

I've restrung my father's acoustic guitar and I sit on the front porch, strumming away, watching the water and the sunsets. It's been very relaxing, which is just what I needed. Four years is a long time to not take a break and give yourself a rest so I'm glad my brain is finally calming down.

Of course, then I did a road-trip to New Jersey, a place I swore I would never to return to after the last time I was there. But, that's a whole other story...

I'm Off!

It's been almost two years since I last took a vacation out of town and, as I write this, I'm about fifteen minutes away from leaving the house, leaving the studio, and taking a two week vacation back to Maine.

And, even though it's been two years since my last vacation it's actually been four years since I've been back home to Peaks Island, Maine. It's been far far too long.

So, the posts might b a bit sporadic in the coming weeks. From the Vault Fridays might be a bit late. Or, if I can find something in my parent's closest it might be a look WAY back into the vault. I'll see what I can do.

But for now, it's time to go. The car is leaving and an airplane awaits me. I hope everyone is good and has a great rest of the week. When next you hear from me, it will be from two time zones away.

Take care!

Jake Maddox-ed!

One of the last things I was asked to do for the latest round of Stone Arch Jake Maddox kid's books was to draw both myself and the author for the biography page in the back of the book.

I searched through a bunch of photos of myself until I found one I could stand. I'm not always the biggest fan of how I look and sometimes wonder why small children don't throw rotten fruit at me as I leave the house. They must always just miss me or I'm too quick for them.

But, anyway, here is what I would look like if I lived in the world of Jake Maddox sport's books for kids.

At least I have a smile on my face :)

Done and Done!

I wrapped up the final book in the current contract I have with Stone Arch books this weekend. So, the four book series about the middle school boy's basketball team has been put to bed.

So, what do I do now?

I have three days to get my act together and then I'm on a plane headed back east to Maine. And, after that, who knows?

Usually once I finish a big job I go through a period of joy that I'm done and can finally relax. It takes a few days for the fear and angst to kick in and wonder what kind of job I'll do next and if I'll ever work again. Usually it takes a few days and, if I'm lucky, a week.

This time, I think that feeling came over me in a little under an hour.

Did I tell you vacations frighten me? Maybe that's why I haven't taken one in over two years.

Ah well, I'll survive. For now, I am off to have a celebration lunch at Einstein's Bagels. Have a great day!

From The Vault - Mike Wieringo Spider-Boy 1995

I thought putting up one of the pieces I painted for Marvel in the nineties was a fitting way to mark the passing of the cover's artist, Mike Wieringo.

I had been following Mike's blog for a while. It was really great and always fun. He always put up beautiful art and did almost daily warm-up sketches that would put most artists to shame.

It was this week, two years ago, on a Friday, where he said he had a busy weekend dealing with some house repairs but he would be back on Monday to resume the art and the blog.

That Sunday he died of a sudden heart attack. He was only 44 years old.

I had never met Mike in person and only got to paint over his art a few times. But, he was one of my favorite artists and was always an inspiration. That I got to paint this cover and that it actually saw print is still something I'm immensely proud of. In those days, most pieces I painted were used for promotional materials. So, even when I painted a cover chances were, when that issue came out, that my work was no where to be seen. This was one of the rare exceptions.

I do remember having to do this piece really quickly. It was sent by messenger to me one afternoon and I had to paint it that night and have it back into a messenger's hands the next morning. Even given the little amount of time to do the work I'm still proud of the results.

I'm proud that I got to work with Mike Wieringo, even if it was only for a little bit and even if he didn't ever know who I was.

Newarama.com has posted a great retrospective of Mike's life and career. You can read it HERE.

Of all the art I did for Marvel over the years, I've only held on to a few pieces for my personal collection. This piece was one of them. Here are a few photos I took this morning of the original art- one of the art, one with a piece of white cardstock between the black and white line work and the colored board, and one with the transparency pulled up so you could see the color work I did.

You're still missed, Mike. You're still missed.