This is a picture of me and my dad in about 1973. I would’ve been about 2 and he was 24. I’ve no idea where it was taken, but I totally love the expression on his face; it is the perfect representation of how I thought of my dad growing up: always slightly amused, full of unconditional love and warmth.

This relic is actually not from the box my dad brought from Flagstaff, but from my mother’s photo albums. I rescued them from her temporarily because they’re those old crappy “sticky” photo albums, and since they’re from the 1970s, the glue is worn out and the photos are jumbled everywhere. I’m planning on rehousing them in newer, pocketed albums, or if I’m feeling really ambitious, I’ll paste them with photo corners.

I’ve been alone in my house all weekend (I’m on call for my job, so I can’t be too far from a computer, in case one of the machines cries for help), listening to melancholy music, talking to the cats, drawing, and archiving. I’m scanning a lot of the photos for my own digital archives..and for help drawing my parents and myself during my childhood; I have an idea for several comics I want to draw about that time.

In the meantime, I’ve been finishing volume 1 of the 10 nouns project, Erin’s Nouns. So in my weird solitude, I drew: Rocket..which turned into this big space fish. I have also been reading short stories by Cory Doctorow, and his writing atmosphere makes me think of old war movies..so then my rocket turned into a space ship that the occupants painted a la air force jets that were painted by pilots during the 2nd World War..but really, there’s nothing else WWII about it..I do like, however, the uncertain expression of the fish as it hurtles through space towards the unknown. Fishbones have been a lingering symbol for me throughout the years..symbolizing the cycle of life. Now it appears here with a futuristic dimension.