Here’s the thing:
I have no idea how a Masai would dress, but my mind conjured up this garb, and that’s what I sketched. After a quick search on google images, it doesn’t look like I strayed too far from the subject.
Character design for the comic book version of this story, about boyish emotions and insecurities.
Character designs for the comic book version of this story, about boyish emotions and insecurities.
A few colour tests for the comic book version of this story, about boyish emotions and insecurities.
Trinity keeping it real
My scanner is getting wonky with line-art - if you have some tips, please write!
Sketch of my boyfriend, Casper.
“What do you want to be, when you grow up?”“A ballerina!”
“Rocket scientist!”“On the national football team!”“An astronaut!”“A veterinarian… y’know, a pet doctor, like my mom.”
It was my turn to answer the question.I was busy doodling Catwoman robbing a diamond in the narrow border of my math notes.
She figured out the combination for the vault by using the odd pattern multiples of nine add up to, like how nine times three is twentyseven, which consists of the number two and seven, and if you add those up it equals nine. No matter what number you multiply nine with this is the case. I felt like such a genius for discovering this mathematical wonder.
Now I just had to come up with a logical plot as to why the bank would A) keep a diamond in its vault, B) why they wouldn’t think to have a more complex security protocol, and C) what Catwoman would do with the diamond once she had stolen it.
“I want to be Batman” I said.
My teacher smiled, and said that I couldn’t be Batman. That he’s not real.“Then I want to be a super hero.”“There is no such thing as super heroes. They only exist in stories. Real people like you and me die when radioactive spiders bite them.”
I thought to myself that she had her heroes mixed up, and that she was stupid and negative for busting my dreams before I even had a chance to fail at realizing them. While looking down at what used to be math notes, the answer dawned on me.“I want to be a cat burglar.”Most of my classmates laughed at the suggestion.“You’ll end up in jail if the police catches you stealing. Also I hear the retirement plan of burglars leave something to be desired.”
“I don’t care. I want to climb on top of buildings and sneak into museums at night.”Not that I knew what ‘retirement plan’ actually meant back then, but even if I had known, I doubt I would have cared. The teacher moved on, and I continued to plan Selina Kyle’s dastardly escape route.
It had been a long day of school. Esben (the astronaut), Morten (his older brother), Frederik (rocket scientist) and I were building a headquarter for our action figures in the woodshop of our afterschool daycare center.
“Did you mean what you said? Do you really want to be a thief?”
“I don’t know. Yeah, I guess. I sorta think it’s too boring to be an office clerk - I mean, what do they even *do*?”
Morten smirked. “Want to have some fun?”
I don’t know how Morten had heard of my career choice, but now that he had, it made perfect sense that he would talk me into realizing it fifteen years ahead of time. He had a strange sense of power over us. Maybe it was his love of mischief combined with his sage wisdom of being two years older than us. His chuckle, maybe? He had this great roar of a laugh, that you’d do anything to be the source of.
I don’t know. But I really wanted to have some fun with him.