I can’t hear you.

Today’s strip hits more closer to home than usual.

Back in the old days ( the early/mid 1990s) when I truly figured out what I wanted to do with my life, art school was a much different animal. Marketing yourself as an artist was lightly touched upon, but it wasn’t really stressed. I mean, we were students still learning our craft… why learn how to market something you’re not exactly sure you’re good at?

So.  I suck at marketing myself. I said it. I finished my undergrad in 1997. In the 23 years since that cold day in May, I’ve gotten about 10% better at it. Which explains a lot.

It doesn’t matter how great something is if no one knows it exists. That much I do know.

I’ve never had a huge problem with public speaking. Give me a room with 1,000 people in it and I’ll talk with no problem. Some butterflies of course, but nothing that would paralyze me. I actually prefer that to one-on-one speaking. I never shook my childhood shyness.  I’ve gotten much better of course… because it was necessary. But, if I have an opportunity to avoid it, 96.432% of the time I will.

Bob is not, or will ever be as big as even the dot on the letter ‘i’ in “GARFIELD”. Some of that could be from the art. Some of that could be from the writing. But I would bet that MOST of it is from my inability overcome that crippling fear of nothing. The inability to be bold. The inability to… insert your own idea.

It’s all me. The work speaks for itself… but no one hears it in an empty room.




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