I’m a little early this week. I’m buried in a crazy book deadline so I have to disappear into my studio. I’ll see you on the other side! But, in the meantime…
This week’s ToonStack was edited by the other Jason —Mr. Katzenstein— who is insisting we are in a highly publicized beef. (My diss track is in production as we speak.) The topic of the week was “Brat Summer”. I, of course, had no idea what this meant because I’m a thousand years old and now officially need to google things the kids are saying on the streets. The cartoon at the top of this email is from this issue. You can read the full issue, with cartoons from my fellow New Yorker cartoonists here:
Thousands of you (generously) subscribed to this newsletter well after I’d been publishing a lot of posts that never appeared in your inbox. For some of you, these posts may be familiar, but for the rest, they’ll be new things you’ve not seen before. Here are some older posts for your deep and abiding enjoyment.
We landed in America today, the 4th of July. Last week, Sophie and I donated or sold just about everything we’d accumulated over 30-odd years living in Australia. The stuff we kept was crammed into two bloated suitcases before we jumped on a plane to start a new life. No plan, no job waiting for us, and no idea what we were going to do when we landed...
For nearly a decade, I've furnished my entire apartment with crap I found on the sidewalk. It's called Stooping, and it's one of the most underrated things about living in New York. Not to be confused with schtooping...
The only thing that was in our apartment when we moved in was a large old roll-top writing desk, which has become my home. I sit at this desk for weeks on end drawing and writing and vanishing into my own little world. It was left here by the deceased previous tenant who happened to be
I step outside my front door, hungover after a long night of consecutive bombs, and shuffle West along East Third. I speed-dial Muhammad at my regular coffee shop, Native Bean. They have my number stored on their phone, so whoever picks up always says...
After a long night of terrible shows, I wobbled down MacDougal Street to my spiritual home: The Comedy Cellar. I collapsed into a booth and started scribbling on the table in chalk. I saw that some other comics were talking nearby. Wil Sylvince came over to say hello as I ordered the tabouleh and a whiskey. Eventually,
Manhattanhenge—the rare moment when all the buildings line up with the sun— was a bit of a bust this year. Clouds and weird weather made it a bit crap, but you can see previous years’ Manhattanhenge coverage here.
This week’s Sketchbookisfrom a pose exploration I did of a comedian on stage at Comic Strip New York. I didn’t show him this. If he saw it, he’d probably cave my head in. I just think he has such an interestingly shaped body.
Just two more weeks until I finally, officially launch my new Substack called “Process Junkie”to explore all of the joys of the Process of making art. If you’re interested in that kind of thing, you can sign uphere.
I’m sad to say I’ve had to bow out of several matches this season due to the abovementioned oppressive (borderline impossible) book deadline. I’ve been chained to the drawing board for weeks at a time and haven’t had a moment to swing a bat. I’ll report more on the matches this summer once I turn in the finished book!
He just sits there. Staring at me all day, while I draw other dogs…
Those kind of deadlines are tough. Good luck and I look forward to seeing the book!