.:The Best Part Of ComicCon:.

People have been asking me "What's the coolest thing you saw at ComicCon," and so far without fail I continue to offer the thrillingly geeky response: "Stan Lee!" which is a crowd pleaser and that is why I keep saying it.  And that's not to say it isn't true -- it is -- by virtue of the fact that Stan Lee is Stan Lee: icon, idol, inspiration.  I was admittedly disappointed by more than a few aspects of the Stan Lee autographing session.  However, I realize this is kind of the equivalent to saying that you only got to hi-five Abraham Lincoln, or Muhammed Ali only punched you in the face once, or Angelina Jolie only spit in your mouth.  Greatness is greatness, and to me (even despite controversy) Stan Lee is greatness, and getting to be in the same room with someone I admire that much made me want to poop, cry, and explode all at the same time.

Kiran got us 4 day passes to the entire ComicCon event.  Baller!

But the coolest and most interesting things about ComicCon for me don't translate quite as well to other people, I don't imagine.  Not without some explanation, at least.  The really genuine, internally meaningful experiences there were all contained in Artist's Alley.  There were many things that were overwhelming about my first ComicCon -- the sheer number of fans, exhibitors, cosplayers -- but Artist's Alley took the cake.  It's one thing to see someone's artwork in print.  In some ways, it really dehumanizes the artist when their work is cleaned up, colored, mass produced and fired off into a world full of more cleaned up, colored, and mass produced work.  I LOVE comics, and comic book art, but it is easy to sometimes become desensitized to the fact even the comics you're not really interested in ever reading, much less buying at the comic shop, they all started with some person scratching a pencil onto paper in a room somewhere.  And that that act, and the skillful completion of that act is AMAZING.  There was SO MUCH good art there.  I was blown away by artwork of artists I'd heard of and didn't even think I liked.  I was knocked over.  And not only that...you get to TALK TO THEM.  Ok, granted, I was kind of just walking around, dragging my jaw on the floor, so it was rare when I got to mumble any verbiage at anyone -- but when I did, most of the artists were all really friendly and responsive.

First day, waiting to get in.

Here are the highlights:

Thursday was the first day of the Con.  The main floor, where exhibitors, toy and gaming companies, and comic book companies set up their wares and displays is the 'trade floor' -- and it is massive.  The crush of people at the entrances and exits was just too much.  My buddy Kiran (to whom I owe this entire experience) and I found it a bit annoying to navigate the crowd, so after a quick look around, we split for Artist's Alley. 

Artist's Alley, day 1.  Not even close to the mob scene it was the following days.

This isn't really considered the main event, but in my mind its the biggest reason to be there.  A lot of the guys I wanted to see immediately didn't set up until later, so we wandered a bit and after a few passes, we saw that David Mack had arrived and was set up.  It was probably about ten years ago that I stumbled onto 'Kabuki' and bought several random issues at a point where I was only marginally still interested in comics and hadn't gone out of my way to buy anything in years.  The artwork was so stunning, I was compelled to buy it.  Fast forward ten years later, and I'm standing in front of the guy, and he's smiling at me and I'm trying not to blurt out something creepy like "I want to BEEE YOUUUU!!!!" so instead I smile back and tell him how much of a fan of his I am.  I immediately buy a print, with a poem on it by Neil Gaiman, which he signs.  And then he just gives me a trade paperback.  And he gives Kiran a trade paperback.  And he signs them both.  We're kind of like...what?!  There was another guy talking across the table to David Mack, with the poise and posture of familiarity that suggested he too was in the industry, and upon appraising our amazed faces says something like "That's how he get's ya -- he gives you the first one for free, so you'll come back and buy another."  I kind of wander off, awestruck.  Somehow I find the presence of mind to tweet about it, and then an hour later David Mack favorites the tweet.  If that was the entirety of my ComicCon experience, if it had ended right there, I'd have been happy.

Stuff I bought from David Mack.

But it just kept going.

Friday was a long day.  I don't have any clue what attendance numbers were, but if I had thought there were a lot of people on Thursday, then Friday's numbers had to be somewhere around a gagillion.  My main goal for the day was to make it to the "Creator Connection" which was a panel suggested to me by my writer friend, Jon Carroll, who had also traveled from Buffalo for the Con.  It was hosted by Buddy Scalerra (formerly of Wizard magazine) and a panel of creators from Pronto Comics.  Described as "speed dating for comic creators," the event pairs writers with artists to pitch and gauge interest in collaborative projects.  I was really impressed with the quality of most of the concepts.  One writer asked me about my work, when I told him I have concepts I've been developing myself:  "Why are you here, then?"  It's true, I don't need a writer.  I could write and draw my own comics, I suppose.  But his question did give me pause.  I knew I was there because I wanted and needed to be, but more than that, I have always wanted a partner to challenge and raise the level of my work.  This is the whole reason I set out to find and eventually connect with the Visions group here in Buffalo...It's hard to create comics in a vacuum.  I want someone to push me, and I want to work with talented people who will raise the profile of my work.  I want to break in.

It's a little weird to make myself say that out loud as my goal -- I'm failure prone, and it's usually because I self-destruct, so I hesitate setting actual, concrete goals.  I'm afraid the rug will get pulled from underneath me.  And then I look up all too often to see myself with big twisted handfulls of rug in my hands.

Yes, I want to make comics professionally.  My goal is to break into the industry, and work as a professional artist and writer.  Cards on table.  Could I? yes.  Will I?

We heard that Image comics was hosting a private party at a bar a few blocks away, so Kiran and I decided we were going to join Jon and Ben in crashing it.  Security was pretty light, so I don't think it was all that private -- all you had to do was say you were there for the Image party, and they let you in.  I don't know most of the creators by sight, but I guess Ben recognized a few guys.  We met Fred Harper there, illustrationist for the Wall Street Journal, who Kiran and I kept running into the for the remaining days of the Con.  He thumbed through my portfolio, and talked about his history with comics and his last project doing a window display.  He is such an artisty guy -- sort of what I think my parents would think of when they think of an artist.  Long hair, tattoos, red pants, clearly marching to his own beat evidenced in the way he talked.  He was an interesting guy to talk to, completely without affect, genuinely interested, and straightforward.

As it got later, and mingling was at a minimum, and I was tired of lugging my portfolio around, Kiran and I scrammed to drop my stuff and get some drinking done with friends.  It turned into an all-night affair, which kind of cut into our time the next day at the con.

Saturday was jammed.  Festooned with people, a writhing crowd.  Were it not ComicCon, it would have been offputting.  And as hurtin as I was from the night before, we made a short day of it.  Kiran wanted to see the Pete Holmes Show panel.  I opted out to go wander Artist's Alley again.  At one point during the day, navigating the swarm, I made passing eye contact with Kelly Sue DeConnick, writer of Captain Marvel.  I didn't know she was going to be at the Con, but I guess she was on a Marvel panel.  At any rate, I was almost elbowed into this tiny chick with bright red hair, then I'm like bleearrggh, holy shit, and then she was gone.

I saw her popping around Artist's Alley after that, and considered approaching her, but then, what do you say?

I wondered if her husband Matt Fraction was there, but in a crowd full beardy fellows, of which I am one, it would've been impossible to recognize him.

I wandered for awhile, still no less amazed at the artists and their artwork, as I paced up and down the aisles.  Though, this time, it was sort of a discouraging moment.  I was looking at just how far I have to go, skillwise, to get to the next level.  I am not practiced enough yet to work professionally.  All the time I've wasted...all the nights I've spent out drinking, all the mornings I've spent in hungover...that was the distance between me being good, and me getting work.  That was the distance between being in front of the table and being behind it.  I am not without talent.  I am without the hard work and dedication.

I decided to mope over my glaring flaws near a fire exit.  Fred was there.  We talked briefly, before he began to draw, inspired by all the art he'd been taking in during the day.  Telling, the difference between our reactions.  I moped further.  This is how much farther I have to go.

Sunday was another short day.  It was the day I "met" Stan Lee.  I didn't really meet him.  I want to complain about it so you can see how shitty and disappointing it was, and also see how I still came away from it walking on the ceiling at the same time.

I wasn't mad that it was a slaughter line.  We were expeditiously herded through a line that wound through several rooms, and it was at this point that the ideal of my actually having meaningful words with Stan the Man about the influence and significance his creations have had in my life began to disappear.  Maybe, just maybe, I'd still be able to get a handshake. Or a wink.  Or a nod.  But the line moved frighteningly fast.  Kiran and I clutched our Stan Lee variant covers of Superior Spider-Man, as we were flung through the line...the only item I could find at the con that wouldn't cost me the rest of my money.  I'd have much rather had a poster, or a post card, or hot dammit, a Stan Lee written book in my hands, but as the signing time rapidly approached, the variant cover book was all that I could find in the few places I knew to look.  Kiran asked if I wanted to go ahead of him so he could take a picture -- knowing how much something like that would mean to me.  And as we got to the table, there was little, old Stan ripping out autographs like a machine.  Bam. Bam. BAM. BAM!!! One assistant to take the book, one to slip it to Stan, one to, I don't know, brace the table so it wouldn't collapse in front of such greatness? My book leaves my hands and is signed and passed along before I even get to the table, where this kid in front of me is just standing there, with his signed memorabilia in hand, holding up the line, interrupting an autograph to get a fist bump from Stan Lee.  And I'm standing there, screaming in thought "Dude, get the FUCK out of the way, you're stealing my MOMENT." And then it was done and I collected my comic and it all happened so quickly, jolted, and awkwardly that there was nothing left of the moment of which Kiran was even remotely able to take a picture.  It was so utterly anti-climactic.  I couldn't leave it at that, though.  I leaned in towards Stan and told him something about being an inspiration to me.  Which, being 90, he didn't hear.  But the aide bracing the table?  Well, from his snort, it was clear he heard the remark.  I'm actually going to delete the line I wrote after that, because its really not fit for public consumption, but let's just say that guy made me mad.  You're going to WORK at ComicCon and snort at the fans?  Yeah, good luck with that...

Anyhow, even being disappointed with the way you got to be in the same room with someone you revere...in the end, you still got to stand in front of them and mumble something stupid in their direction, and it is awesome.  We meandered in a fog for a bit after that, feigning attentiveness to the displays and distractions around us, but really, we were just high from seeing Stan Lee.

There was nothing else we wanted to do, agenda-wise, so we went back to Artist's Alley.  I went back to David Mack's table.  Kiran got a couple prints, and I got another volume of 'Kabuki'.  We both chatted with him for a moment, mentioning we'd been there the first day and were impressed with his generosity.  He signed everything, and I told him again how awesome it was to meet him and how inspiring his artwork has been to me as an artist.  I think I even shook his hand.  I left his table thinking that I need to come back next year and that by next year I better work up a portfolio I'd be proud get his honest opinion on.  He was incredibly gracious with us, again.

I tweeted about it again.
He retweeted me.
I thought I was going to spontaneously combust.

ComicCon was a whirlwind.  I was exhausted.  I was incredibly grateful for the experience.  And I was ready to leave.

You can only take so many high notes in row, before your brain implodes.