heavy

holy cow...

"Winsor McCay spoke the saddest and greatest last words of any cartoonist. (Number two is Osamu Tezuka: “I’m begging you, let me work!”) McCay lived to draw; his greatest fear, he often said, was of losing that ability. On a July evening in 1934, the 65-year-old cartoonist called downstairs to his wife, “It’s gone, Mother! Gone, gone, gone!” He had just suffered a stroke that paralyzed his right side. Shortly afterwards, he suffered a second stroke, from which he never recovered."


from the hooded utilitarian poll of greatest comics ever

beautiful and haunting last words on both accounts. beautiful in the sense that these guys loved their work with all their hearts, haunting in the sense that death meant the end of their joy in creation. i sort of wish i had that kind of dedication to a craft, but i am also thankful that my brain is not that obsessive.

i've been thinking of starting a tumblr. should i do that?