#402: Spilling Ink in Chelsea, Ronny Chieng is a cat & Japanese Whiskey
+ Exploding Paint Eggs, Tiger Hood & Morris is buggered.
Welcome to Issue #402 of New York Cartoons…
…coming to you today from the Shinkansen, hurtling 300km per hour from Tokyo to Kyoto. I hope you’re all abstaining from ‘eating the dogs and eating the cats’. Sadly, the cartoon at the top of this email is still an evergreen. It always just… works. The New Yorker published it 8 years ago 🫣.
I’ve been largely offline, enjoying Japan the past week. But I did flick on the hotel TV last night to find Ronny dressed as a cat, so I had an inkling something bonkers must have happened at the debate…
Tokyo Drifting
These first days in Tokyo have been a mind-blowing start to my birthday trip. I love Japan.
I’ll be writing about Tokyo for paid subscribers this coming week. I was lucky to be connected with a local artist for Peanuts comics by Jeannie Shulz, and he’s the coolest guy I’ve ever met. We went to his studio where he showed me how he worked— we geeked out about brushes, charcoal inks, and baseball. After a big night on the saké, we got a private tour of the Snoopy Museum and Mt Fuji.
Oh… and I finally discovered Japanese Whiskey.
This week’s topic:
My Road Kit. (2024)
I’ve subscribed to the “Bring only what you need and nothing else” philosophy for the longest time; it’s a low-stress, minimalist approach to working on the road. But then I discovered so many shiny new tools on GouletPens, JetPens, Blick, and other drawing-addiction superhighways that now I can’t leave home without a ‘kit’.
This kit will inevitably change over the years as I discover new tools, but, for the most part, these are my ‘ride-or-die’ drawing utensils that I never leave home without, whether I’m taking a weekend upstate or a month-long trip to Japan…
Preview of paid post:
Spilling Ink At the Hotel Chelsea
Substack invited me to live-sketch a rare night with iconic writers, Mary Gaitskill and Tavi Gevinson.
The room was completely silent. I hadn’t seen anything like it since my Best Man speech bombed at a friend’s wedding in 2006. (we haven’t spoken since.)
The only sound that could be heard was the dull scratch of my temperamental bastard of a nib against my sketchpad as some of New York’s best authors, songwriters, journalists, actors, musicians, and artists (and me) sat, captivated in the Piano Room of the Hotel Chelsea. We were there to witness a rare conversation between Mary Gaitskill and Tavi Gevinson, hosted by Substack.
The fireside chat between the two iconic writers was ostensibly about their creative process, but the conversation unfolded into something much deeper. I was there to blend into the wallpaper and live sketch the night— something between reportage and clandestine portraiture. I’ve been calling it ‘Eavesdrawing’. This is something I’ve been lucky to do at previous Substack writer events in New York. (Finally, an advantage to remaining in the city after the artistic exodus of 2020.)
But first, I want to share a dirty little secret…
Since moving to Chelsea four years ago, I’ve spent entire nights posted up at the lobby bar of this hotel, sneakily sketching guests and recording overheard conversations in my sketchbook. The people-watching in here is some of the best in New York. I order the cheapest thing on the menu and sink into the the far corner. The bartenders are nice to me— they top off my drink and refill the saucer of bar snacks. I try not to give myself away by crunching too loudly. If some ugly brute catches me drawing him one night and decides to beat me senseless, I like to imagine they’ll hang a small bronze plaque; “Chatfield’s Creepy Corner.”
The reason it’s a guilty confession is because I only do it when I’m meant to be finishing other work. Which is often.
OK, it’s every Sunday.
That is not how you’re meant to play with your donut.
Japanese whiskey is rather nice..
Snoopy Museum?! 👍