Work in progress. I've got a bit stuck in the comic I'm drawing with this
character. Her name is Senga the Jungle Girl. I'm 12 pages in, a few good jokes and no plot as yet - so to avoid dealing with my total lack of plotting ability I'm
taking time out to draw a pin-up of her with copious armpit hair. Not
sure why I'm giving her such luxuriant pits, but I was planning on having her have riotous underarm fuzz
that would blow in the wind from the start - but Holly made
me take it out on the grounds that it's "too weird".
Scottish girl living with an Amazon tribe of white girls battling Nazis
deep in the African jungle is okay but armpit hair is "weird"? I don't
understand kids. Mind you, they don't understand me so I guess we're
(Though I do have some sympathy for their position.)
I have all these bits of paper, backs of envelopes, sides of cardboard boxes, anything flat and blank enough to scribble on, full of half-drawn, stupid cartoons and idiot poems lying around.
For years I have been saying I must get round to doing something with them. For years I have been meaning to get to grips with learning how to drive our ancient vector graphics tools.
For years my wife has been wondering how it takes me so long to see the blindingly obvious.
I can't see the blindingly obvious most of the time because I'm usually drawing fish wearing platform shoes.