kartooner.com

After 4 years of writing, off and on, about a variety of things such as odd thoughts, close calls, success (and failure) and other things now relegated to the archives, it’s time to switch directions and start anew.

From the get go I’ve always envisioned this site as an outlet for experimental creativity and to share the results of such with whomever was interested.

This site’s focus was never meant to be excluded to just a blog, but due to my interests in creative writing it just remained. Like Anton, I’ve been ready for quite some time to move away from just being a blog and realign (not that kind of realignment) my interests and the intentions of this site.

For historical preservation, I’ve decided to select the best articles from the archives and compile them into a book because I’d hate to see those disappear. Besides, I’d like to do some self-publishing and Lulu has me more than intrigued.

A Fresh Restart

What this means is that I’ll be transitioning the blog, or what you’re reading now, into a small, but important portion of the site. If you can think of it as the conversation that takes place after you’ve consumed a three-course meal, then you’ll understand what its purpose will be.

The main course of the meal will be the illustration and design, wrapped together in a fresh and fun layout that’ll hopefully immerse you in what I’ll have to offer. (Speaking of which, have you seen the new Squidfingers design?)

As corny as this might sound, I do appreciate each and every one of you who continues to subscribe to, read and interact with kartooner. There are plenty of you who should be proud of your design prowess and measure of intellect. Without you, I’d just be a guy with one of them-there blog thingies here in New York. In other words, channeling the mantra of Chris J. Davis, “You rawk!”.

Catching up with Goals

Part of the reason I’m so adamant about changing some things is because I need to finally meet my goal of finishing my comic. Yes, that comic, the one I’ve been talking about for a little over 2 years! After mixing it up with my friends at SXSW this year and absorbing the enthusiasm, I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to not just pursue, but chase after and tackle my goals.

I could just keep making excuses or continue playing trash basketball to bide the time, but that wasn’t why I chose this career in the first place. This is a journey of exploration and fascination that we’re all on, and I’m moving up a couple seats to see the full view.

Process and Innovation

On my panel at SXSWi this year I mentioned doing conceptual sketches for Sideville, using the movie Pirates of the Carribean as one of my source materials. I foresee using the blog to post my work in progress, kind of like Carson System’s Bare Naked App but without the app and the bare nakedness. It seems like people are interested in the process and craft of developing a project and appreciate that mistakes are made along the way.

As perfect as the end result might be, success needs to be constantly fine-tuned and recognizing trail and error is part of that process. Every brilliant and successful business or idea has to be built from the ground up and the visionary at the forefront of things needs to keep innovating and moving forward.

Sure, a lot of what success can be might seem serendipitous, but it’s the crucial element of keeping one’s eye on their goals that makes it both challenging and rewarding.

To sum it all up, I’ve got an idea and it’s time to take that from concept to reality. Join me.

When I was kid, whenever my family and I would go on vacation I’d always order the same thing at restaurants we’d eat at. I had my Roast Beef Sandwich phase where I’d order nothing but Roast Beef Sandwiches with a side order of fries, sometimes seasoned and sometimes not. Before that there was the Grilled Cheese phase, golden brown on both sides with a huge dollop of ketchup on one corner for dipping.

It became something of an inside joke; “What will Erik have this trip? Will he succumb to the same kinds of food or will he try something different to mix things up a little?”. Never one to disappoint I’d rarely break the pattern of not ordering the same thing at meal time but on occassion I’d try something different. That was then, this is now, but I’ve found that childhood quirks stay with you, no matter how much time passes.

Even to this day I’ve noticed patterns in what I’ll order at restaurants and most of the time it’s just food I’ve become comfortable eating, like Clam Chowder for instance. Nothing adds to a meal — at least in my opinion — like the soothing warmth and taste of thick chowder topped with soup crackers and a dash of salt and pepper. Eventually I might grow tired of ordering clam chowder with every meal but most likely it’ll be replaced with a different phase.

Do you have any food phases?

There’s a Chinese restaurant that my office mates and I frequently dine at called The China Buffet. The owner, a short and stocky man with piercing eyes, runs the place like a spit-polished factory keeping his wary eye on his employees, making sure every penny is accounted for. We like to call him the Samarai and it’s not just because he’s of Asian decent, but mainly due to the fact that he barks commands as if he’s concealing a sword behind the counter.

The other day we ordered three drinks and filled our plates with at least three trip’s worth of Chinese food. Afterwards we gobbled down ice cream to cool our palettes and then came time to pay the bill. The owner, dubbed “Samurai Jack”, asks for the bill and slowly scans each item as if he’s concentrating on a really difficult crossword puzzle. He looks up, then down, and finally asks if I will be paying with cash or credit. I pull out my wallet and slide my credit card across the counter and he pauses, “I see two drinks on bill. Did you have a soda?” I nodded and in Chinese he barks some commands at the waitress who in turn barked commands at the busboy. At this point the owner explains that even though it’s not on the bill I will still be charged for the drink. I shrug and tell him, “Fine.”, then at the top of his lungs he says, “$7.84! You pay the same as all the rest. $7.84!”

I sign the receipt and walk out the door, laughing to myself and thinking that this man, “Samurai Jack” should have his own sitcom. I envision it as a cross between Belushi’s The Samurai Butcher and Sanford and Son.

After work the other day I was feeling a bit hungry. Lately I’ve been skipping out on lunch and breakfast because either I’m too engrossed in whatever project I’m working on or I forget to bring the packed lunch (like this morning for instance).

As I’m driving down the road a thought comes to mind, “Wow, I haven’t been to Palermo’s Sub Shop in a few months. Wonder how my Sub making buddies are doing.” I pull up in the parking lot and enter the sub place and order the usual; a meatball sub with sliced mozzerella on top. After ordering I casually walk over and get a drink from the soda fountain and wait patiently while the “Sub Artist” does his thing.

Eventually the guy comes over with two sandwiches? I was in a panic, it was as if all the air in my lungs had been sucked out of me. Why, why, two sandwiches? That’s when I realized, he split the two halves. This is where this sub story gets weird.

The guy takes my credit card, slips it through what I call the “credit crack” and it takes about 15 years to authorize the transaction. In the mean time we chat about life and eventually he realizes the receipt machine has no power. I let out a laugh that exudes a mixture of “how funny” and “Dude, what is your problem?” and finally it works.

He hands me the receipt to sign and in an awkward moment says, “Well, it’s been great hanging out with you man.” Like I said, awkward to say the least and yet at one point I think I wanted to give him a hug, thank him for making my sub and tip him for the service. In the end I decided not to, thinking it might have been going against the Sub Makers union.

Someday, when all of the sub shop artists are replaced by sub-making robots I’ll miss these kinds of moments.