The Tone

The tone. The damn tone.
In this story, I’m not lucky enough to be given facts by the texts. On other occasions, searching through his letters, I have found clues that have helped me to compose a style in the images. This time, I have to write the text myself, or so I told myself and to be honest, I have never written anything. So, I’ve been passing the ball from hand to hand for months. Moving forward in circles, words, and drawings.
This idea, in my imagination, I always saw as something that would be very good for an almost childish humor.
To confront political ideas in the most innocent way. Attacking with humour and simplicity, making images that made you think about the obvious come out. The elaboration and development of all these ideas led me to a ridiculous reinvention of Jack. Yes, the nightmare before Christmas.
The surprise has arrived, when one of the hands takes over. The one that goes alone. That of the drawing. At one point, and after making her work hard, with very satisfactory results, on the thousand versions of Jack, she has slammed her fist on the table. In a non-negotiable way, it has taken away all the childish tone of the story. He has replaced it with a poetic realism. And it’s setting the pace. No nonsense. Let’s get to work! it seems to say. Thus, the subconscious, or work, whatever you prefer to call it, has made the decision for me. The fact is that now I am more comfortable, both in drawing and writing. There’s still a long way to go, but it seems like I’ve left the circles behind and at least I’ve taken a direction.

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