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I was a cartoonist.
It all started with my childhood fascination for doodling and drawing.
Dad was a weekend landscape painter, and Mom sometimes liked to paint birds. Also, we had an extensive library that included art books and humor books full of cartoons.
So I was surrounded by art.
As a little boy, I loved to draw birds. And then I discovered cartoons and fell in love with their silly exaggeration. Also, I liked that I didn’t have to be a slave to proportions when drawing cartoons. If fact, the more skewed the proportions, the funnier the cartoons.
I poured over Mad magazines and newspaper comic strips.
Before long, I discovered single-panel editorial cartoons in newspapers and fell in love with their sketchy style, intricate cross-hatching, and detailed execution.
This love of editorial cartoons led to my interest in journalism, where I became the editorial cartoonist for my high school newspaper, The Falcon.
When I went to university, I joined the campus newspaper, The Star. During my law enforcement career, I moonlighted as an editorial cartoonist for both the county newspaper and a weekly. At one point, I even applied for a full-time cartoonist position in Albany, New York, but a more established artist beat me out.
What’s the good of living if you don’t try a few things? — Charles M. Schulz
It’s just as well I stayed in law enforcement since newspapers began dying and staff cartoonists were laid off everywhere.
I enjoyed my police career, and cartooning became a welcome part of it. I was always drawing funny cartoons of my colleagues on the grease board and in notes stuffed in lockers and desks. Sometimes I sold cartoons to police magazines, but mostly I drew cartoons for family and friends.
Eventually, I had to quit drawing editorial cartoons for the local newspapers because readers who disagreed with my positions began calling the police department to complain.
The word was out that the local cartoonist was also a cop. The police chief called me into his office and said, “Either you’re a cartoonist or you’re a cop. Pick one, because you can’t be both.”
Reluctantly, I quit drawing for the newspapers and took up landscape painting, which had been another creative passion I was developing.
I still drew cartoons at work, but something changed when the thrill of seeing my work in print was gone. Landscape painting became my new passion, and I pursued workshops and even flew to Idaho several times to study with an American master.
Years later I started blogging and often paired cartoon illustrations with my essays.
I began cross-posting my cartoon essays on Medium, which pays writers based on how popular their articles are (an algorithm measures reader engagement). I was still painting landscapes, but my illustrated essays were becoming popular. After retirement from police work, I doubled down on my cartoon-adorned essays, and my income blossomed.
Everything was going along swimmingly.
I was happily writing personal development essays full of my silly cartoons, and making good money. On the side, I was still painting landscapes. And I even found time for my piano playing.
But then things changed.
I discovered minimalism and was attracted to the concept of simplicity in one’s life.
I began downsizing, simplifying my wardrobe, and focusing more on how I wanted to spend my time. I felt like my varied interests spread me too thin, and that I wasn’t growing enough as a writer. I also worried that my cartoons were becoming a gimmick for my writing, and I wanted the writing to speak for itself.
Also during this time, several losses and difficulties happened.
My mother, who had always been my biggest cheerleader, passed away in my arms after a long battle with Parkinson’s disease. Then my beloved Maine Coon cat, Skye, collapsed and died suddenly from an undiagnosed heart condition. And the next morning, my wife’s physician informed us that my wife had breast cancer.
Loss and fear crept into my life.
My wife and I spent the next year going to doctor appointments, surgery, follow-up exams, tests, etc. Thankfully, my wife did not require chemotherapy or radiation, and she has since made a full recovery.
Through all of this, I began to lean into my writing at the expense of my artwork. I stopped drawing cartoons, which felt frivolous and distracting from the prose. And I stopped painting landscapes, as it was time- consuming and expensive to buy supplies and ship pieces to collectors.
I thought I was embracing minimalism by abandoning my artwork in favor of writing, but in hindsight, I was probably being obsessive-compulsive.
The artist I was disappeared into myself.
Sensitive people usually love deeply and hate deeply. They don’t know any other way to live than by extremes because their emotional thermostat is broken. — Shannon L. Alder
During this time I got into black-and-white photography, which paired well with the somber stories and essays I was writing. I love the elegance and simplicity of monochromatic photography, and soon that’s all I shared on social media and my website.
The minimalist in me liked the consistent look and “branding” of the black and white photography with my written work. And I still do.
But.
A certain unhappiness crept into my bones.
Online writing can be a thankless discipline. Website and newsletter subscribers are hard to come by these days, as more and more people prefer to lose themselves on social media and YouTube videos.
Where once blog readers left numerous comments, lately they’re fewer. Every time I send out a new newsletter, I routinely get 10–20 unsubscribes. Which isn’t uncommon in this business. But it’s a bit demoralizing.
I’ve been focused on finishing a new book of short stories that I’m proud of.
The book, titled, “The Morning Fox,” will contain the best short stories I published over the last few years, as well as a few new stories. I’m committed to completing the book, and I believe my readers will enjoy it.
But then I’ve got some thinking to do.
I feel like the artist in me disappeared over the years. Being a writer and an author meant that I had to focus on that exclusively, and not spread myself thin by drawing cartoons and painting.
But I feel like I disappeared into myself. Like a dark cloud came over me, and the kid who liked to draw cartoons and the carefree artist who liked plein-air painting sort of died. Perhaps retirement, aging, loss, and my wife’s health challenges played a part in all of this. Not to mention that the return on investment for online writing seems to be dwindling these days.
How about you?
Is there a part of yourself that you lost touch with?Are there passions you used to love that you abandoned? If so, why? I realize some passions, like sports, can fall victim to injuries and aging. But other passions, like creating art, music, or poetry, can often be enjoyed well into old age.
And yet, inexplicably, sometimes the music kind of dies in us. And then we disappear into ourselves.
And we wonder, will we ever come out again?
I’ve noticed some popular online writers who have disappeared lately.
One guy, Nick Wignall, had over 300K followers on Medium. Nick is a clinical psychologist, and his personal development articles nearly always went viral on Medium (meaning he was making a good deal of money with his writing).
But guess what?
Nick deleted all of his work on Medium and left the platform. He still has his website and some kind of online psychology website now. So I guess he decided to lean into his practice and spend less time writing. He’s not alone.
Cartoonist found dead in the home. Details are sketchy. — Santosh Kalwar, Gags and Extracts
Other popular writers online I used to follow online have either disappeared, or they’re trying their luck on alternative platforms like Substack. I tried Substack, and found the reader engagement to be superior to my personal website, but I didn’t like all the bells and whistles and “paid subscription” focus of the platform. Thus, I stuck with my personal website, despite its dwindling numbers, and still post on Medium as well.
So I’m in this weird place.
My goal is to continue writing, and I’ve been thinking about writing novels.Perhaps I’ll pitch essays to big, reputable platforms like The New York Times and Wall Street Journal.Publishing in places like that can help a writer’s credibility with agents and publishers.
But I’m also thinking about diversification.
About the cartoonist and painter in me that I left behind over the last few years. I don’t know what that means right now, but what I do know is that over the last few years I disappeared into myself.
And I think I want to come out again.
John Patrick Weiss writes stories and essays about life, often illustrated with his black and white photography. Visit JohnPatrickWeiss.com.
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This post was previously published on Medium.com.
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Photo credit: John P. Weiss
Filed Under: Advice & Confessions, Featured Content
John Patrick Weiss is a writer, retired police chief, and 26-year law enforcement veteran. Visit him at https://www.johnpatrickweiss.com/
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