Independent Propaganda

by Christopher Moscardi / Writer for Independent Propaganda

Read the previous installment of KISS MY INDIE

I think I need to start things off by discussing the internet. Thank you (Al Gore, I guess) for this immense and magical circulatory system of information; this beautiful spider-web that connects everything to everything else; this digital roadway that, like all others, leads to some virtual Rome.

You can see some pages from The Godheart War here and here. The pencils are done by Magdalena Partyka and the inks are from Andre Morrison. I met Magda on the Ronin Studios site. I couldnt help but wonder where such a great name originates (her middle name is Elizabetha or something equally as cool), so I asked. Shes from Poland. This is the pinup of hers that I saw first. Its just subtle colours over dark pencils, and its so beautiful in its stark simplicity that I knew I needed to write something that would be a foil to this art. Godheart was the resulta churning of everything I loved about fantasy stories from fairy tales to epics, summed completely in Magdas fluid lines and the ocean of her watercolours. One connection made.

I met Andre though an ad I placed on one of the many build-your-own-creative-team sites that pepper the internet. Ill be damned if I even know where he lives; he could be next door and Id be none the wiser. I sent Andre a page of Magdas pencils and within a day he sent back an inked page (this aint no pony express). By this time I had reluctantly come to the decision that Godheart would be done in black and white, because I sure as hell dont have the sort of money needed to print full colour (plus, we can always colour it later), and I told Andre that I wanted stark contrasts that sort of complimented the simplicity of the pencils, especially in the first few snow-laden, winter-wonderland panels. What I got back were inks so clean and crisp that the snowy landscapes were almost blinding. But it was still missing something and I told Andre as much. He asked me if I was familiar with the inks in Ernie Chans run on Conan the Barbarianbrilliant. Two connections made.

Ive never seen either of their faces and theyve never seen mine.

When I look at a completed page of Godheart now I basically see it in layers. At the bottom lay the writing which peeks through the surface in captions and balloons; the illegitimate brainchild of all the Dungeons & Dragons, Conan comics, Tolkien books and grail lore I could stomach as a kid. Neatly atop thewriting was the precise design of things I could only write about in thin pencil lines and impeccably detailed characters. Magda tells me shes loved fantasyfashion her whole life, and it shows through every chain in the mail. Finally lay the inks that envelope each scene inlife and depth and shadow. So where else but the internet do three different styles of art from around the world converge on one spot?

We three came together because we are all clearly part of a larger community which reigns proudly over its small corner of the web. Most of us have never met in person, or even heard each othersvoices, so our work needs to speak for us. And sure, the work has always spoken louder than the creator but for the first time in history we have the medium to let anyone and everyone see what we can do, and that opportunity is incredibly empowering. I have a story. Minutes later I could have an artist to work with. Buddhists say that everything is connectedevery little piece comes together to fit the big picture, like drops of water in a river or pixels on a TV. My story is online and its connected to every artist willing to take a look. Youre reading this now only because its offered to you on the internet. Welcome to electron-nirvana.

Tangent: Im selling my comic book collection. Ive hit the point when Im ready to start making my ownI no longer need to rely on all those old issues stacked in the corner of my room collecting dust. To me, it seems only fitting that my comic book collection which Ive spent years compiling and which has spurred my love for the medium and my desire to make it in the industry, should pay for my initial printing costs to make my own. Its like a funny-book life cycle. At some point, some brilliant person made this site, on which I can catalogue all my comics, see what theyre worth, and even sell them through their classified section. Where else but on the internet?

Now if youve been a part of civilization over the past decade then what Im saying here shouldnt come as news (and if it is, maybe its time to upgrade from dial-up). Everyone knows the mind-blowing potential for connectivity that the internet offersbut heres the part that really sinks in with me: art comes in movements; in order to have a movementyou need lots of people. It used to be that youd need lots of people in one place in order for their influence to be feltlike French Impressionism, London underground punk, or folk music in the 60s (thank you NYC). Now all you need is a computer and a phone line and you have more people connected to you and more people influencing each others work than any other time in history. The potential for a movement is palpable. It is my humble contention that without the internet indie comics, and maybe even comics altogether, would be a footnote in American history. But because all these people with a love of the same thing were able to find each other as simply and easily as clicking some buttons, comics are on the rise and moving forward with force. I can feel the wave cresting beneath us and Ill ride it until it breaks. See you on the shore.

What I Was Listening to While I Wrote This: Metal Fingers - Special Herbs

About The Author: Chris is as nomadic as anyone who doesn’t own a camel can be. Since he is frequently on the move, the only place one could really say he lives is in his own head. He works with EnemyOne Studios on myriad comic book endeavors with both writing and lettering credits to his name. His current project is called The Winter King on his fledgling website American Bootleg. His influences include (among many others) his family, the music of Bob Dylan, the writing of Neil Gaiman, and the open road. In his twenty-four years on this planet he’s become sure of one thing: you may love a story, but it will not love you back.

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