Slice of Life: Fly Away

“If you truly love it, let it go.”

“But… I love it so much”

In my hands I held the bug cage, watching the little red beetles climb stray branches and test out their new wings. Some others, having newly morphed, were resting under the warmth of the sunbeams.

In my hands I held a precious thing of irreplaceable value, Life.

Young though I was, I was mesmerized by it, and the small creatures I had grown fond of in the process of rearing.

Reluctantly I opened the cage and watched them take off. First one. Then another. Then more as they climbed high up as they could before their shell split to reveal transparent wings.

For a second they seemed still, then they were up in the air, zooming off till their small red dot became untraceable.

Not one looked back, and I hadn’t expected them to. Though a small part of me hoped and longed to imagine that they’d come flying back. To give personify them.

They flew away, and I stood holding an empty cage.

A large but gentle hand held my shoulders as a frown etched into my face.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be back next year, and there’ll be more of them you can raise.”

“I know.” was the mumbled reply. I knew they would be back, they always do every year. But when they do they’ll be different.

Ladybugs only live a short few weeks to breed, and then they die.

She left to go in and cook dinner and I allowed myself to sit squat on the ground, still clutching the cage.

When I was little, I remember those who cried, would get attention. I was a fairly egocentric as a child such that attention was what I wanted. But, even then I was having a hard time bringing up the tears. A small worry that hit me was whether or not my feelings were sincere.

I loved the little critters, I truly did, but was it not enough to wring the water to my eyes? I felt sad yes, but it wasn’t enough to make me cry.

It had never been easy for me to tear up.

So I stood and put the cage away. Next year I would be there to greet their offspring, bring a few home, and set them upon the aphids in our backyard. To watch the cycle of life start anew.

“I’ll see you all again next Spring.” I looked up at the skies and mustered up a smile I didn't really feel.

With that I ran back into the house. My 1st grade teacher Mrs. Williams had assigned us a short essay on our reading, and I hadn’t quite finished.

Concept and Prologue: Bad Start

As practice for graphic design, concept, and art, I've thought of making a combined journal and diary in the form of a graphic novel. Yet at the same time I hesitated in its making as it had a considerably narcissistic quality to it.

Thought it would end up as can be seen here. Despite the internal conflict over its making, I settled with starting the comic. Though I do desire to share it, as is the case with most artists who are proud of their work, similarly am I keeping it to myself for the most part. That being said having it on a blog may seem controversial given the nature of such forms of media, yet as can be seen in the statistics of the blogs in truth it's quite limited in audience, distribution, and an overall easy storage for mindless thoughts and recordings.

Moving on, the picture is an "in-progress" cover for Bad Start. The graphic novel diary and journal of your's truly.

Taking on a new style of "border-less" coloring, mostly exemplified by her pants and sneakers. May or may not keep at it, or simply use it as a flourish here and there.

Zoomed into some of the finer details I was satisfied with. As you can see the pants are "border-less" and one differentiates shape and form from color and light variance.