Marion was my first best friend. I never had the framed photos that girls like to give each other. I had never worn friendship bracelets, or even hated anyone else with another girl. My life seemed like something new and unasked for, Marion smiling at me in the sunshine, letting me wear her woven ankle bracelet for days at a time, braiding my hair that had grown colorless and thick, full of dust and the peculiar smell of heat. Bobby walked around wearing a sarong low on his hips, and sometimes naked, the skin on his penis mottled and pale, and so none of the other girls in the seventh-grade class were allowed to visit, but Marion liked it like that. She pierced my ears one night with a needle, holding a piece of cold, white apple behind my lobe, and there was hardly any blood at all. She helped me trace the outline of my face in lipstick on the bathroom mirror, so we could determine my face shape (heart) and the most flattering haircut (bangs, which she cut with Dinah’s nail scissors). Her hot breath, blowing the small cut hairs out of my eyes.
comicpractice:

A long pause, and then the members of the group seemed to turn to each other simultaneously. If I hadn’t been scared before, I was now. 
After another pause, the Third Elder snapped his fingers, and a scroll the size of my arm dropped into my hand. I scrambled to keep it from hitting the floor, while the voices of the assembled council loomed into my head: 
Y O U W I L L F O L L O W T H E M A P . Y O U W I L L F I N D T H E K E Y . A F T E R , W E D O N O T S E E Y O U R P A T H . 
Fair enough. I bowed deeply, rubbed my eyes with my free hand, and when I opened them again, I was back in the heart of the valley, and the heady scent of rotting vegetation augmented the brewing nausea in my throat.

comicpractice:

A long pause, and then the members of the group seemed to turn to each other simultaneously. If I hadn’t been scared before, I was now.

After another pause, the Third Elder snapped his fingers, and a scroll the size of my arm dropped into my hand. I scrambled to keep it from hitting the floor, while the voices of the assembled council loomed into my head:

Y O U W I L L F O L L O W T H E M A P . Y O U W I L L F I N D T H E K E Y . A F T E R , W E D O N O T S E E Y O U R P A T H .

Fair enough. I bowed deeply, rubbed my eyes with my free hand, and when I opened them again, I was back in the heart of the valley, and the heady scent of rotting vegetation augmented the brewing nausea in my throat.

oldtypenewtype:

Ami Mizuno aka Sailor Mercury on the front cover of the 3/1993 issue of Newtype illustrated by Ikuko Ito.
This is is full of 90’s goodness and has something for everyone.

oldtypenewtype:

Ami Mizuno aka Sailor Mercury on the front cover of the 3/1993 issue of Newtype illustrated by Ikuko Ito.

This is is full of 90’s goodness and has something for everyone.

kalidraws:

Guess what! 1200 Posters is back, and if you missed out on grabbing my poster the first time around, now’s your chance! Buy it here. Also, The Creative Action Network is now accepting submissions for new posters too.
If you’re curious, you can check out my original process post for this piece from way back in 2011. (yeesh time flies!)

I remember when the original print went out… time to collect.

kalidraws:

Guess what! 1200 Posters is back, and if you missed out on grabbing my poster the first time around, now’s your chance! Buy it here. Also, The Creative Action Network is now accepting submissions for new posters too.

If you’re curious, you can check out my original process post for this piece from way back in 2011. (yeesh time flies!)

I remember when the original print went out… time to collect.