For me, the whole process involves envisioning this book in my head as I’m working.

I must have been 3 years old or less, and I remember paging through these comics, trying to figure out the stories. I couldn’t read the words, so I made up my own stories.

If I could have somehow been the kind of artist who could crank out two or three issues a year, that’s different. That’s sort of what it’s all about, to get this thing out so that there’s some kind of continuity. But to do a comic book every year or two was just so anti-climactic.

It’s much more liberating as a artist to feel like you can approach each page and each panel with the way that inspires you the most. I think the thing that bogs down a lot of artists is that you’re kind of stuck drawing in a style you’ve developed.

There are certain comics that just seem like they have this perfect balance between dialogue and image that I can’t not read. I’ll want to save it for later, and the next thing I know, I’m reading it. That’s what I’m kind of trying to do with my comics.

C’mon, let’s go in my room and abuse drugs and stuff!

I have this certain vision of the way I want my comics to look; this sort of photographic realism, but with a certain abstraction that comics can give. It’s kind of a fine line.

Everybody just lets the media do their thinking for them... that’s why you’ll never hear any reggae on the radio!

When I go back and reread the stuff, I’m always floored by how deeply personal and revealing it actually is.

I think there was a point that I realized I could do what I wanted to do in terms of the drawing. I used to run around a lot of things. I would shy away from certain things that I realized would be horrible for me to draw, and just wouldn’t be fun.