There was once a time when I would never have dreamt of driving the 450 miles plus from Southampton to Leeds and back for the weekend. But I feel that my perspective has changed. After driving a good four hours a day when we made our way across America, I wonder what stops me from doing it around the homeland. About half way down the M1 on my return leg from Leeds, the realisation hit me. Like a thousand looming brake lights in my windscreen.
Traffic.
In the USA, travelling between towns and cities is relatively stress free. The only traffic we ever hit was the swirling, hellish vortex of the Los Angeles road network. The rest of the time we were coasting down the open road. This feat is not so easily matched in England's green and pleasant land. But to be fair, the roads were pretty kind to me. A Saturday lunchtime drive up to Leeds spared me any traffic headaches. It was only the Sunday evening return when the motorway snarled up.
The reason for my expedition was to attend Thought Bubble Comic Con as my brother's wingman. Whereas my graphic novel knowledge is limited to film adaptations, his is encyclopaedic and lovingly, artistically worshipping. I arrived Saturday afternoon to find him wide eyed with glee, arms laden with bags of purchases and freshly signed prized posessions. With a childlike joy, the words to describe his day at the convention tumbled from his mouth like pages from a sketchbook. My brother never apologises for this unbridled enthusiasm for his passions. And I love him all the more for it!
Sunday morning, before the dawn dew had lifted we were trekking towards the convention for a packed day. First on the list was getting a special edition poster from some guy called Jock. This meant queuing. Queuing in the cold. Queuing for half an hour and then another hour because the fella we were waiting for hadn't arrived yet. When he did arrive, he started the day how one presumes he ended the previous night: downing a bottle of Smirnoff Ice. Who says comic books are for nerds?!
Our time in the queue gave me an insight into the comic world. It was like Disneyland for geeks. People dressed in weird and wonderful costumes (it's not often your Sunday starts with an 8 foot metal soldier sauntering towards a tiny, toddler Hulk) and queues for everything. The people around us traded stories about signings they'd been to the previous day, compared victories they'd had in finding a long-yearned for issue and shared opinions on a whole range of topics. I was so out of the loop that I couldn't even see the loop.
So I left my wing-manly duties and went wandering. Away from the big-hitters of the comic world, I found more to explore. There were less queues for a start. I browsed meticulously drawn comics on a whole range of subjects. It was astounding to see how committed so many are to this art form despite reaching limited commercial success. Amongst my favourites were a touching poetry comic book about a bus stop and a range of posters and books exploring animal sounds in a variety of languages. I even put my hand in my pocket to buy two mini comics: a story about a car journey and a heroic platypus.
Later that afternoon we treated ourselves to a seat in a lecture theatre to watch a sketching spotlight. Four amazing artists took it in turns to put their drawing skills under the camera and talk about their experiences and opinions. It was fascinating and hilarious. Three of the four sketched incredibly skilful, detailed characters from their work. I have such respect for their vision and how they use their skills to realise that vision. One of the artists was Natasha Allegri. Being a novice, I had never heard of her, much less seen her work. She took a different tact to the others. Sheet upon sheet of paper she filled with sexy cats. Sexy cats in a variety of poses and shapes. They were cute and naughtily funny, and she was having a ball. So were we as the audience.
At the very end of the day, as the stewards were trying to shepherd us out we found Natasha! And she was still signing. My brother asked her if she could draw a sexy cat for him. She happily obliged. Then he asked if she could draw one for me. I turned into a complete fangirl and got starstruck by this woman I'd never even heard of a few hours ago. She was so sweet and drew a whole page of sexy cats. Then, I presume it was her fiery artistic temperament, declared them to be not very good and said she could do better! I thought they were all ace, but I didn't argue and we came away with three sheets full of those fiendish felines. When I look at them now they represent such pure, random joy and remind me of an equally random weekend in Leeds.
Every weekend should feature a sexy cat somewhere.
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