Young and Dumb

My Old Ass, This One Summer, and the end of brat summer

An image I drew for Phantom Planet’s Devastator album, but the vibe fits.

Here’s something I never thought would happen: I don’t trust my instincts anymore. It’s not even on a professional level, I’m doubting how to spend my hours, which friendships to nourish, when to eat what foods, how often to drink or not drink, chores to prioritize, the list goes on. I know I should be doing a million different things to make my life better, but I don’t know which of those million things will make it the right kind of better. For as much as I’ve tried to create space for clear thinking (less partying! More exercise! Learning a new language!), I still feel like I’m one good decision away from unlocking a new level in my life, and I don’t know how to do it.

This wouldn’t normally bother me, but I’m also starting to feel like following the whims of a nine-year-old boy has put me in a bit of a pickle. There’s nothing more in this world I love than making comic books, but- for all of my successes- I still have not created a Scott Pilgrim or a Blankets. I’m very happy with my life and incredibly lucky to do what I love without the worry of feeding kids, but nobody’s buying a house off Ghosted in LA money. Worse than that, if my mother’s health goes to crap, I wouldn’t be in a position to jump in and take care of her. The anxiety is starting to creep up on me: what if, what if, what if?

While everyone else was having a brat summer, I simmered on these concerns. I’ve banked so much of my existence on being cool. Not in a Poochie the Dog way (even though I love Poochie the Dog and will always have his back), but in the way that I can feel good about the fact that I don’t make six figures and own a craftsman home in Eagle Rock. My job is cool! My lifestyle is cool! After balancing young and dumb with a fairly decent professional career for so long, it’s starting to hit me that maybe “cool” isn’t gonna be what gets me to the next stage of my life. Looking at my reflection in a window the other day, I definitely had to wonder… is dressing like a Kidz Bop backup dancer in your 30s actually cool?

All of this has hit a little harder too with the way the world has moved since Elena Salcedo passed away. The people who I was closest to during the years when Elena and I spent a lot of time together (remember when I edited The Walking Dead) are all keeping in touch. Elena dated a guy who works at Skybound (see: remember when I edited The Walking Dead), and worked for Top Cow Productions (the company I interned at in high school/ original home of my hero growing up, Michael Turner), so much in the same way Jenny Lewis’ two decades of albums are hitting me in the feels, I have been connecting with two versions of myself and really examining the decisions that got me to where I am.

One of the people I caught up with from Skybound heard me air out these insecurities at a reconnecting lunch. With some vulnerability, I said something along the lines of “I don’t want to die and all my career amounted to was being a [guy who still has to table at conventions in his 50s with no job security].” That wasn’t meant to be a dig on the hustle and I apologize to anyone who’s grumbling at me right now, I just don’t think I can sustain that particular hustle for 15 more years. In any event, I took my words back the very next day, when Karl Moline died. Karl’s art on Fray amazed me, and his pages on that project are the first pieces of original comic art I ever bought, with money saved from working nights and weekends at the comic shop. Karl’s career didn’t hit the heights that another recent loss John Cassaday’s did, but his work landed with me in such a significant way that I realized: if my work makes even one person feel the way I did about Karl, then being a guy who still tables at conventions in his 50s is still pretty cool.

Separate, but not really: I saw the movie My Old Ass, which is about an 18 year old who does shrooms and comes face-to-face with her 39 year old self. This topic hits wildly close to home for me, given that I used the same plot device in my Self-Obsessed web series, and it’s one that yields fabulous results every time it’s used! I liken the movie to Mariko and Jillian Tamaki’s graphic novel, This One Summer took shrooms, and recommend everybody go see it if they want to watch a director who’s much smarter than me tackle these themes. Honoring your younger self is so important, especially when making stories with a bunch of sexy action figures. I know I need to continue doing so… I know I do…

(The actor we got to play Young Sina in Self-Obsessed is literally a legal adult now… wtf)

There’s no grand conclusion here. I’m just a little stuck at the moment, and I know that the worst thing to do is do nothing. I literally get paralyzed trying to figure out something to do to get myself unstuck, and instead of even a small thing (like answering a text message), I just become a zombie and watch Big Brother or check news updates on various Real Housewives. That is not honoring my nine-year-old self. Sharing these insecurities at the very least gets me writing, and may even inspire some great conversation with other creative types to sort out how I can level up and continue loving what I do.