24

On the theme of my last post, discussing my grandfather, I thought about this past 24 Hour Comics Day. In 27 hours (ah well... maybe next year) I went from, "What am I going to do?" to dusting off an aspect of a rather long story I started cobbling together in my late teens, to transforming that aspect into a 24 page exploration of human motivation & a fictionalized account of my grandfather's death.

Most of the pages amount to little more than scribbles with dialog, but it had its moments. I wanted to share one, rapidly sketched from a photo taken by my brother in my grandfather's hospital room.

I was not aware of my brother taking the photo, but he tells me that I was laughing at something my grandfather had said, which reads in the photo to be a moment of total collapse, and something entirely different from what it actually was.

Why am I telling you all of this?