Friday, March 30, 2007
Emerald City Comicon
Many Mercury members will be heading up to Seattle for the Emerald City Comicon this weekend: Jeff Parker, Colleen Coover, David Hahn, Ron Randall, Ron Chan, Steve Lieber and Paul Guinan. Karl and Matthew won't be able to make it, unfortunately. Here's the complete guest list.
If you're there, stop by and introduce yourself!
SL
If you're there, stop by and introduce yourself!
SL
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Wednesday's linking
"So what was good? First rule: look for Jeff Parker’s name."
Johanna Draper Carlson talks about new superhero comics
Here's the first part of an interview with Too Much Coffee Man auteur Shannon Wheeler
"it’s a homecoming film of sorts for one of the city’s most talented creative duos, the brothers Jacob and Arnold Pander. They describe “Selfless" as a “sexy psychological thriller about the corrosive nature of ego and obsession.”"
The Portland Tribune looks atthe Pander brothers' move into film making.
The Scans Daily Community is talking about David Hahn's debut on Spider-man loves Mary Jane.
Finally, if you haven't seen it yet, go read Jeff Parker's tribute to his cat. Bring kleenex.
Johanna Draper Carlson talks about new superhero comics
Here's the first part of an interview with Too Much Coffee Man auteur Shannon Wheeler
"it’s a homecoming film of sorts for one of the city’s most talented creative duos, the brothers Jacob and Arnold Pander. They describe “Selfless" as a “sexy psychological thriller about the corrosive nature of ego and obsession.”"
The Portland Tribune looks atthe Pander brothers' move into film making.
The Scans Daily Community is talking about David Hahn's debut on Spider-man loves Mary Jane.
Finally, if you haven't seen it yet, go read Jeff Parker's tribute to his cat. Bring kleenex.
Labels: David Hahn, Jeff Parker, personal tragedy
Monday, March 26, 2007
Hahnday
Call this a David Hahn kind of day: First, a couple of great reviews of his first issue of Spider-man Loves Mary Jane at Comixtreme and Living Between Wednesdays.
And then, from somewhere in Manitoba, a Whiteout filming update that focuses entirely on airplanes.
And then, from somewhere in Manitoba, a Whiteout filming update that focuses entirely on airplanes.
Labels: David Hahn, whiteout movie
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
More Whiteout movie news.
"Gabriel Macht will star opposite Kate Beckinsale in action-thriller "Whiteout," the first pic from Joel Silver's Warners-based Dark Castle Entertainment banner. Tom Skerritt and Columbus Short also will star."
Read the rest at Variety.
Read the rest at Variety.
Labels: whiteout movie
Monday, March 12, 2007
Let's learning together.
Zevon is a six-year-old Welsh corgi named after the singer Warren Zevon because he is so energetic he's truly an "excitable boy". He loves nothing more than to run-- something that, unfortunately, started to cause him great pain and often left him lame for days after even a small amount of play. Zevon was operated on in late January 2007 and the surgery went quite well. So well, in fact, that Zevon already thinks he’s already fully healed and has a hard time understanding he still has weeks of recovery ahead of him!
It's another ebay auction for Zevon! Karl Kesel's been selling some truly choice original art to pay for some medical care for his beloved Welsh Corgi. Go and bid.
"I'm the god of all things Grendel," Wagner says. "Whatever I saw happens, happens. But there comes a point where I want to play with someone else's toys. There's a certain creative challenge in working a puzzle where some of the pieces are already in place. Plus, it's like staying in a hotel. I don't have to worry about cleaning up."Steve Duin of the Oregonian talks to Matt Wagner.
"Although abusive language being attached, the carry which starts single investigation chasing the news team five scientific investigation camp is stretched in the vicinity of the corpse, arrives to the English Victoria base. "Someone in Japan has reviewed Whiteout. Beautiful translation here, and the original page is here.
Labels: Corgi, Karl Kesel, whiteout
Friday, March 09, 2007
Portland cartoonists all over the web.
Anne Timmons has a new book coming out.
Linda Medley gave a talk at Wondercon.
Sara Ryan has released the latest icon from her sticker campaign with Colleen Coover.
Sarah Oleksyk just put up new pages fromIvy
Dylan Meconis' Family Man just hit the one year mark with its 53rd episode. Happy anniversary!
Linda Medley gave a talk at Wondercon.
Sara Ryan has released the latest icon from her sticker campaign with Colleen Coover.
Sarah Oleksyk just put up new pages fromIvy
Dylan Meconis' Family Man just hit the one year mark with its 53rd episode. Happy anniversary!
Labels: Anne Timmons, Colleen Coover, Dylan Meconis, Linda Medley, Portland, Sara Ryan, Sarah Oleksyk
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Boilerplate in Japan
As Paul Guinan works at full steam finishing the Boilerplate coffee-table book, his robot continues its blog tour of the world wide web. The latest review of the Boilerplate site comes from this Japanese blog. The latest images produced for the book can be seen on the Boilerplate News page which is updated every couple weeks. The book is being published by Collectors Press, and is due for a fall 2007 release.
Several members of Mercury Studio are contributing pieces to the book, stay tuned for previews of their work.
Pete Woods interviewed at Newsarama And some bigger reproductions of the art in the interview.
Several members of Mercury Studio are contributing pieces to the book, stay tuned for previews of their work.
"After hearing the initial pitch it was pretty obvious to me that this story would be heavy on crowded wide shots. We've got the Amazonian army versus the US military and then throw in just about every character in the DCU. Yeah, lots of detail intensive work- but very fun!"
Pete Woods interviewed at Newsarama And some bigger reproductions of the art in the interview.
Labels: Boilerplate, Paul Guinan, Pete Woods
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Steve's off to Wondercon.
I'll be at the con all three days, sitting in artist's alley, table AA78. Stop by and mention you saw this on the Mercury Studio blog and time permitting, I'll doodle out a free quick sketch.
Hm. I guess I might as well start my con diary. I haven't done one in a while, so let's see if I still have anything to say.
Thursday,March 1st. Sara and I got home late Wednesday night after an evening at the local comics salon, a weekly event at which people who are interested in comics meet to talk about everything but. Mostly I ink at a lap board, look up occasionally and make wisecracks. I used to never sleep the night before flying off to a show, but as I stare into the gaping maw of my 40th year, the attraction of staying up the entire night becomes less and less attractive. I'm sure there are important pre-con things I could accomplish. I could run from message board to message board publicizing my appearance, or start a bunch of commissions. I could gather and carefully comb through the stack of original art I plan to bring. Instead, I think I'll spend the time with my wife. We lie down and I close my eyes. My last thought as I drift under is that I'm losing my mercenary edge. Thank god.
Jesse Hamm and his wife Anna are dropping me off at the airport. I'm waiting for a file from an associate, so we hang out at the house a bit and chat. I think Jesse's appalled at how much luggage I plan to lug. I've got two enormous suitcases stuffed with books and art supplies, a giant backpack that's full to bursting with stuff: a laptop, a fed-ex box packed tight with original art, and assorted gadgets and their chargers. And there's a fourth bag with some medical stuff. I've seen people take less to go to Europe for a semester.
Anna's playing with the new cat, and he seems a bit less inclined to murder her than most people. Jesse's checking out a Kurt Schaffenberger page I bought at a con in Jersey twelve years ago. It's a marvel family page with gorgeous, perfect line work and plenty of camp value. Kurt's price is still on it: $25. I distinctly remember sweating over those 25 bucks, agonizing over the choice between this page and two others, equally great. I had a different career then.
I've overpacked, of course. Both of my bags are way over the airline's fifty pound weight limit. I probably won't be able to do curbside check-in, and I'll wind up paying a fifty dollar penalty at the counter. Can't hurt to try, though. The guy at the kiosk is a bruiser. There's a twenty visible in my hand. The guy hefts the bags, says "kinda heavy" in a way that sounds like approval, then loads them on his cart. "There's a, um two dollar per bag fee, sir." he informs me, gesturing to a sign. "Here you go. Keep the change."
The flight's delayed and I spend an hour or so emailing back and forth with Jesse Hamm, Jeff Parker, Ron Randall, and David Hahn. Ron Chan calls while I'm google chatting with a guy he's sitting next to. It's like I've never left the studio. Meanwhile there's some awful hacking going on next to me. Just like the studio- no, I kid. No, it's a tiny, lovely woman, Filipina, maybe, and every time she coughs, her hair flies straight forward. When she stops, she's got the total Cousin It thing going. It's kind of adorable. An older woman starts a conversation with her and evidently they're part of the same sorority. "Bet there's a lot of colds and coughs going around the house." "Oh yah- pneumonia, the flu, some weird stomach bug. It's reall-HUKACK-really bad." Whenever the older woman looks directly at Coughing Girl, she puts on an odd expression. She closes her eyes and scrunches up her entire face, then smiles. She doesn't open her eyes again until she's looked away again.
Eventually, we get to board. Easy flight. No anecdotes.
Arrive in SFO and pass security on the way to baggage claim. There's a woman at the metal detector, arms straight at her sides, wrists six inches from her hips. It's a familiar pose from countless amateur portfolios. She's being wanded in the glass front box for some reason or another, and there's an air vent catching her hair, blowing it in her face like the Coughing Girl back in Portland, but she's got a huge delighted smile, like the world's happiest sheepdog.
My cabbie is enthusiastic and friendly with no English vocabulary I can discern. He looks at the printed hotel address I show him. Light dawns! Aha! Yes! We take off and he drives like a maniac. Worse, when I glance in the mirror, I notice something truly scary. I think he's closing his eyes when he changes lanes. Christ. I'm the last guy to tell anyone how to drive, but that's fucked up. I know I'll never get it across to him that he shouldn't do that, so what can I do? I close mine, and hope to god it really does take two to make an accident. When my eyes open, we've arrived safely at the Chancellor Hotel.
Hm. I guess I might as well start my con diary. I haven't done one in a while, so let's see if I still have anything to say.
Thursday,March 1st. Sara and I got home late Wednesday night after an evening at the local comics salon, a weekly event at which people who are interested in comics meet to talk about everything but. Mostly I ink at a lap board, look up occasionally and make wisecracks. I used to never sleep the night before flying off to a show, but as I stare into the gaping maw of my 40th year, the attraction of staying up the entire night becomes less and less attractive. I'm sure there are important pre-con things I could accomplish. I could run from message board to message board publicizing my appearance, or start a bunch of commissions. I could gather and carefully comb through the stack of original art I plan to bring. Instead, I think I'll spend the time with my wife. We lie down and I close my eyes. My last thought as I drift under is that I'm losing my mercenary edge. Thank god.
Jesse Hamm and his wife Anna are dropping me off at the airport. I'm waiting for a file from an associate, so we hang out at the house a bit and chat. I think Jesse's appalled at how much luggage I plan to lug. I've got two enormous suitcases stuffed with books and art supplies, a giant backpack that's full to bursting with stuff: a laptop, a fed-ex box packed tight with original art, and assorted gadgets and their chargers. And there's a fourth bag with some medical stuff. I've seen people take less to go to Europe for a semester.
Anna's playing with the new cat, and he seems a bit less inclined to murder her than most people. Jesse's checking out a Kurt Schaffenberger page I bought at a con in Jersey twelve years ago. It's a marvel family page with gorgeous, perfect line work and plenty of camp value. Kurt's price is still on it: $25. I distinctly remember sweating over those 25 bucks, agonizing over the choice between this page and two others, equally great. I had a different career then.
I've overpacked, of course. Both of my bags are way over the airline's fifty pound weight limit. I probably won't be able to do curbside check-in, and I'll wind up paying a fifty dollar penalty at the counter. Can't hurt to try, though. The guy at the kiosk is a bruiser. There's a twenty visible in my hand. The guy hefts the bags, says "kinda heavy" in a way that sounds like approval, then loads them on his cart. "There's a, um two dollar per bag fee, sir." he informs me, gesturing to a sign. "Here you go. Keep the change."
The flight's delayed and I spend an hour or so emailing back and forth with Jesse Hamm, Jeff Parker, Ron Randall, and David Hahn. Ron Chan calls while I'm google chatting with a guy he's sitting next to. It's like I've never left the studio. Meanwhile there's some awful hacking going on next to me. Just like the studio- no, I kid. No, it's a tiny, lovely woman, Filipina, maybe, and every time she coughs, her hair flies straight forward. When she stops, she's got the total Cousin It thing going. It's kind of adorable. An older woman starts a conversation with her and evidently they're part of the same sorority. "Bet there's a lot of colds and coughs going around the house." "Oh yah- pneumonia, the flu, some weird stomach bug. It's reall-HUKACK-really bad." Whenever the older woman looks directly at Coughing Girl, she puts on an odd expression. She closes her eyes and scrunches up her entire face, then smiles. She doesn't open her eyes again until she's looked away again.
Eventually, we get to board. Easy flight. No anecdotes.
Arrive in SFO and pass security on the way to baggage claim. There's a woman at the metal detector, arms straight at her sides, wrists six inches from her hips. It's a familiar pose from countless amateur portfolios. She's being wanded in the glass front box for some reason or another, and there's an air vent catching her hair, blowing it in her face like the Coughing Girl back in Portland, but she's got a huge delighted smile, like the world's happiest sheepdog.
My cabbie is enthusiastic and friendly with no English vocabulary I can discern. He looks at the printed hotel address I show him. Light dawns! Aha! Yes! We take off and he drives like a maniac. Worse, when I glance in the mirror, I notice something truly scary. I think he's closing his eyes when he changes lanes. Christ. I'm the last guy to tell anyone how to drive, but that's fucked up. I know I'll never get it across to him that he shouldn't do that, so what can I do? I close mine, and hope to god it really does take two to make an accident. When my eyes open, we've arrived safely at the Chancellor Hotel.
Labels: conventions, Steve Lieber
