The Blizzard
Monday, March 12th, 2007 by Pat
Last week the entire world vanished into a wash of white and gray. High winds kicked up dry snow along with an already generous helping from above causing the National Weather Service to issue a full fledged blizzard warning.
I love to see mother nature do her thing but I think I’m sort of elemental about it. I’ve never been interested in getting near a pyroclastic flow or catching a hat full of lightning but I can’t get enough heavy snow and high water.
In my comic this week I tried to capture some of that sense of storm front adventure. I wandered around in the whirling winds snapping pictures of the occasional lost sole. Then I came back inside and used them as a reference to develop my comic.
Thanks to Mitch Watley for his Photoshop painting tutorial which gave me a head start in developing my snow scenes this week.
Comic - The Blizzard

March 13th, 2007 at 5:02 am
Why call yourself “orphan?”
You cannot make yourself an orphan. Only your parents can make you one. So, go and tell them to do what my sweet former parents did: leave me a victim to stray dogs, to sleet and wind and dirt, to hunger and thirst, and to abusive strangers.
Then you’ll be an orphan, whether you still want it or not. You’ll be nobody, and you’ll begin trying to be something. That’s REAL orphanhood.
http://www.ruthieblacknaked.blogspot.com
March 14th, 2007 at 12:41 am
Ironic that I’m being lectured on REAL orphanhood by a fictional character but to be absolutely crystal clear, I am not pretending to be an Orphan. I’ll try to elaborate on the history of Orphan Army and the choice of the title in a future post.
March 14th, 2007 at 9:18 am
Awesome comic, man! I really like the lines you drew for the wind gusts.
P.S. Thanks for the link up too!
March 16th, 2007 at 9:48 am
Ruthie must be unaware of Risen ( part wolf and Saggy), bleak Hoot n Hoolar and old Uncle Neil. I would say your life makes Angela’s Ashes look like a party. Orphan Ruthie sounds like she needs to see the Cove, or Rosie’s, eat the dirt at Sandy Beach and Suffer the Taku Winds, It’s no picnic. POPS!