422. The Annual Self-Portrait, Puking in Pennsylvania, & Picture This Returns!
+ 3 Hours on New Jersey Transit, Cultivating boredom in your creative process & Morris' sunny disposition
…Coming to you bleary-eyed from a broadcast studio in Brooklyn, welcome to Issue #422 of New York Cartoons!
I’m doing my quarterly live news desk gig for IBM this week, which means two things: No sleep, and… another thing, I forget.
I’m just back from a road gig in rural Pennsylvania, where I got to perform persevere alongside some of my favourite comedians. Here’s an excerpt from my road diary:
The 250-year-old town of Williamsport in rural Pennsylvania is precisely four hours ’ drive from New York City—just long enough for three recently divorced comedians to share dating stories that would make Lily Phillips blush.
I'm writing this in the back seat of fellow New Yorker cartoonist Emily Flake’s car as we hurtle West to yet another road gig. I’m trying not to recreate the Great Vomit Incident of 2022, when, while hurtling down the highway home, I stuck my carsick head out the window and projectile-sprayed my breakfast sandwich onto some poor soul's windshield— A pale-faced firehose of bile and bacon bits painting the side of Emily’s freshly detailed SUV. I've since learned my lesson: eyes front, phone at eye level, dignity somewhere between "lost" and "never had it to begin with."
Emily runs a women’s writers' residency here called St. Nells, which is a safe haven for comedians to work on their masterworks of japery in a big old wooden house. It’s an excellent place to write (and pass out after a comedy show.)
This isn't my first rodeo in Williamsport. Ot my second. My most recent show here was during NellsFest 2023, when we had the impeccable comedic timing of opening to a full theatre with "Are we all ready to laugh?" on the evening of October 7th. Nothing sets the stage for lols quite like a savage massacre.
After the long drive, we shuffle through the snow to the only place with lights on: an old spot off the beaten track by the name of Dolly's Diner, frozen in time from 1953. It’s attached to another local establishment named "Griggs Coffee & Peanuts." Because nothing goes better with your morning cup of Joe quite like a handful of unshelled legumes. The business plan for this place was written by an insomniac at a baseball game.
The other NYC comics on the show are Jess Salomon and Caitlin Reese. Young local act (and our boy ward) Emmett O’Neill would be joining us at the venue. Our perky young server, Rhonda, straight out of a central casting call for ‘Most Perfect Diner Waitress in Human History’, sat us at a booth away from innocent civilians. Caitlin said, “Im pretty sure they found Rhonda first, then physically built the diner around her.” Her thick Pennsylvanian accent slowly informed us that the special of the day is ‘a cheeseburger.’
She left us to ponder the menu and the several million local advertisements printed on the thin paper placemats. There was one for Gary’s Radiators above another one called Doug’s Radiators. The rest of the ads were for businesses specialising in other parts of the car.
A sign on the door informed us that due to the increase in the price of eggs, a 20c fee would be added to each egg. Four days into the Trump administration, and still no executive orders about omelettes. This is bullshit.
One of the best things about road gigs is getting to say the absolute worst things we can think of to crack each other up at whatever establishment will let us blow all our pay on precious eggies. Inevitably, someone will order a saucer of mayo just for a punchline. I made a joke that made Emily shoot porridge out her nose. A big win.
This week’s Sketchbook is via my latest post on Process Junkie:
On New Year's Day for the past 10 years, I’ve used my 'warm-up sketches' time to self-flagellate with a self-portrait based on the previous year’s mess.
It’s the only time I do it, thank Christ. The style depends on whether I’m at the drawing board or sitting at the Cintiq that morning. I’m usually hungover, tired, hungry, or a spicy cross-section of this ugly triumvirate of self-loathing.
I don't meditate much on these; I just plonk myself down, start drawing, and see what emerges. It’s usually a reflection of my feelings about the year that just passed and what I might expect for the year ahead.
After the relentless firehose of grief these past couple of years, including the three D’s: Death, Divorce, and Downsizing, I figure this expression captures the vibe of the year and the creative process of drawing this year’s self-portrait. I can barely manage more than a smile that invokes something between ‘help’ and ‘Because of course this happened now. What else y’got?’
Continue reading below:
Picture This is Back for 2025: Join us on Saturday 2/1 at Union Hall
Picture This! combines my only two employable skills: stand-up comedy and drawing quickly.
I started out drawing and performing on Picture This back in 2013 during the Melbourne International Comedy Festival when it was still a new show finding its feet. I would race off stage from my own hour-long stand-up show across town to jump in the saddle and draw for a slew of guest comedians who would pass through on their way to the bar - it sort of became the unofficial comic hang of the festival; seeing which big names would show up for a spot.
Fast forward 12 years, and Picture This! holds two shows every month; one in LA, and one in New York— usually at Union Hall in Brooklyn. The generous folks at Wacom supplied us with new Wacom Mobilestudio Pro tablets to draw on, animating the comics set on stage while they interacted with the drawing. If you can, I highly recommend coming down for the next show. You can find out more about Picture This here.
This week on Process Junkie, I share creative insights from around Substack, including the importance of cultivating boredom in your creative process.
I was awake last night thinking I'm crazy. Your weekly email hit my in box and welcomed me to the club.
Very funny. I could have served you guys eggs—you drove by my place.