Hand screenprinted shirts and prints of a digital drawing of the infamous Allston Rat to sell at the Brighton Bazaar.

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Comics inspired by time with my friend Tara in Taiwan.

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Adapted drawings for illustrations of the classic Grimes fairytale, “the Goose Girl”:

Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess whose mother loved her very much. However, the princess was engaged to a prince in a nearby kingdom and ,at a certain age, it was time for her to marry. Because her mother loved her, she sent her off on her journey well prepared with a maid, a talking horse named Falada, and a handkerchief with three drops of her own blood to protect the princess.

Unfortunately, this maid was a jealous and spiteful woman. Before long, she tricked the princess into dropping her mother’s protective handkerchief in the river. She then forced the princess to switch places with her on threat of death and to swear an unbreakable vow to never tell a soul. The only witness was Falada, the talking horse.

In due time, the princess and the maid, disguised as each other, arrived at the neighboring kingdom. The maid was received as royalty and the princess was sent to do servant’s work minding the geese with a young boy named Conrad. The maid ordered Falada put to death so the horse would not reveal the secret of the switch.

When Falada was beheaded, the princess begged the butcher to mount his head on the arch above the goose pasture so that she could still see her beloved stead. The butcher obliged. Before long, the days fell into a steady routine. Each morning, she would stand below Falada’s head and say “Alas Falada hanging there!” Falada, though dead, would reply “Alas young queen, if your mother knew, her heart would break in two.”

Then she would herd the geese into the pasture with Conrad, sit down, and unbind her hair. Conrad, seeing it’s beauty, longed to touch it, so the princess would say: “blow wind blow and chase Conrad’s hat, until I’ve bound my hair again.” The wind would take Conrad’s hat flying through the field and he would be forced to run after it.

Before long, Conrad had had more than enough of this and complained to the king, When he recounted the strangeness of the talking horse and the blowing wind, the kind fell obliged to question the goose girl himself. However, she only replied “I’ve sworn never to tell my sorrows to another soul or I shall die.” “If you will not tell me”, said the King, “tell the stove” and he went away. So the goose girl sat in the iron house stove and told the stove her whole terrible tale.The clever king sat outside and heard her story through the stove pipe. He quickly realized the truth of the switch and swore to set matters to right.

On his return to the palace the king asked the false bride what she thought would be a fair punishment for a servant deceiving their master. “To be put inside a barrel of nails dragged by horses through the streets until death,” she said haughtily. “This shall be your punishment then, as this is what you have done” replied the King and the false princess was thus killed. The true princess and the prince were married at once and there was peace and happiness in the kingdom forever more.

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Some panels inspired by a conversation with my friend max about life navigation and the future.

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A painting inspired by one of my favorite poems, Ukrainian-American poet Ilya Kaminsky’s “We Lived Happily During the War.” I originally came across Kaminsky’s work while working a summer job for the former publisher of a 1990 teen literary magazine called “Writes of Passage.” Over twenty years later, the publisher had been interested in coordinating a reunion issue and asked me to see what the young people who were published in the magazine had done in their adults lives and to attempt to get in contact with them. Kaminsky had been published in the magazine as a teenager and was the only person I found who went on to be a professional poet.

We Lived Happily During the War - Ilya Kaminsky

And when they bombed other people’s houses, we

protested but not enough, we opposed them but not

enough. I was in my bed, around my bed America

was falling: invisible house by invisible house by invisible house.

I took a chair outside and watched the sun.

In the sixth month of a disastrous reign in the house of money

in the street of money in the city of money in the country of money,

our great country of money, we (forgive us)

lived happily during the war.

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