The Process: Creating a Website, Ch. 1

On and off, over the last few years, I'd searched without luck for a good domain name. Ninety-nine point nine percent of people cannot spell my name without seeing it in front of them in 100-point type, let alone pronounce it, so it fails as a domain name. My very first screen name, "attn2dtale" (read: "attention to detail" AND, preferably, "attention: 2-D tale"), was as nonintuitive as it was clever, and I lost count of how many times I've spelled it over the phone without a lick of success. Occasionally, I'd canvass my circle of friends or throw the query into the internet void, but I received only one simple, intuitive suggestion, "triptoons," based on the coolest nickname I'd ever been given that, unfortunately, didn't stick.

Then, in July 2009, I began renting studio space at ArtWorks on the Square (AWOTS) in downtown Fayetteville, GA. AWOTS is a co-op of sorts, in a renovated office building that had built-in, high-walled "cubicles," which were instead called "suites" or "studios." Serendipitously, I wound up in studio E. I added a "d," and "Studio Ed" was born. I had my domain name.

Well ... almost. Some [expletive deleted] dude in Maryland had already purchased the "StudioEd.com" domain name as a representative for "Go China Domains" back in March. It's still sitting out there, unused. I couldn't afford to buy it from them, so I settled on "StudioEd.net". Working with an IT guy (i.e., my father-in-law), I secured the domain name and a hosting service. Now all we needed to do was figure out how I'd access what I needed without having to go through his account; that is, I had to wait until he set me up as the website's administrator.

But before he could research that, he needed to remove a broken microwave oven/convection oven combo unit from the cabinetry; pick up the replacement double-oven combo unit; expand the hole in the cabinetry by nine inches, which required removal of one drawer; build a base within the cabinet that could support 300 pounds; and modify the wiring. Among other chores, like removing the cap from the pickup truck. And a trip to the dump to dispose of said broken microwave oven/convection oven combo unit.

While I waited, I cracked open Adobe Creative Suite for Dummies and started reading and forming a plan. First hurdle: Deciding how big to make a page. When the book was written, back in the day, things like the iPhone and such weren't in use, let alone accessing the web. The default page size that came up when GoLive launched was 619 x 333 pixels. And the book references the (now ancient?) debate about monitor size and screen resolution. Suddenly, I realized that I didn't know what I didn't know, times 10.

But I knew I wasn't going to build my website overnight or even during a weekend. For starters, all I wanted was a page graphic that would alert users that, yes, they'd reached me/StudioEd.net, they could contact me via email, and the website was under construction. So that's exactly what I cobbled together in GoLive.

When my IT guy finally gave me the login info I needed, a wave of performance anxiety hit me (I'm prone to such things). I threw myself into other projects and chores with the passion of a man desperate to stave off armageddon. Two days later, I finally mustered the courage to log in, and my first attempt to upload my "Under Construction" graphic met with complete ... failure. I read some more, figured out what I was doing wrong and tried again. Fail. More reading; more adjustments; third time was the charm. I'd posted my first page to the internet.

I gained immense respect for web development and design folks, who should be breathing a collective sigh of relief for not having to be anywhere near me.

It was time to begin the real work of building a website. That's when I began asking myself questions for which I had no answers. Yet.

The Process: Creating a Website, Intro

I'm creating a website as a showcase for my artwork, with the ultimate goal of marketing myself as a freelance illustrator and selling both originals and prints. It's been a "putting the cart before the horse" sort of process, which has its advantages and disadvantages.

Among the advantages is the tremendous volume of things I'm learning because of all my mistakes, miscalculations and oversights--not to mention the simple fact that I dove into the project without a clue as to what I was doing. I mean, I never went to school for this, haven't taken any courses and only brushed up against HTML about 14 years ago. My last website was created using a template program through an EarthLink subscription that I dropped years ago. No, I approached this project with only a copy of Adobe Creative Suite for Dummies and GoLive. Turns out, it's like defending yourself from a hungry lion with a thorn glued to a toothpick while hoping for an "Androcles" outcome.

The biggest disadvantage is discovering just how terrible a client I would be to a website developer who wasn't scrupulous and exhausting when interviewing me. I've known for a while that I'd need a proper website--something more than a blog--but had I made any decisions, even on what I wanted the thing to look like? Nope. All I had was a logo I'd created for my business card, and I trusted that inspiration would follow. But beyond visual styling, I was utterly clueless about the innumerable little details involved in putting together a website, let alone the "how" of it. I've decided that any client who, like myself, announces that "I'll know it when I see it" is the kind of client who does NOT have enough money to tempt me into taking on his assignment.

So that's what Square One looked like. I returned to it so often during the first few days that it started to became my "Happy Place." But it was never meant to be more than a base camp at the foot of the mountain I was climbing, so I resisted the urge to unpack my action figures.

Undead Glut

Just returned from the local bookstore. I've never seen so many books about vampires. And comics seem to be overrun with zombies these days.

How unbelievably dull. If the best folks can do creatively is recycle stuff that was novel over 100 years ago, count me out.

Whatever happened to originality and creativity? Or is "derivative" the best we can hope for in the 21st century?

Ed's Art Classes at ArtWorks

Spread the word!

Ed McKeogh (of Studio Ed) is offering two classes. Both run on the Saturdays of September (5, 12, 19 & 26) at ArtWorks on the Square, Room M.

(1) “Character Design for Kids” (after lunch, from 12:30 to 1:30 p.m.)

Can you (even almost) draw a circle? Are you interested in learning how to draw your favorite cartoon or comic characters? Do you want to create an original character? Then the Character Design for Kids class is for you! Learn the basics of character design used by animators and cartoonists, and then assemble your own three-page Model Pack. You’ll need pictures of any character(s) you’d like to learn how to draw; pencil, eraser, markers and any other drawing tool(s) you feel comfortable using; scrap paper; and sketch paper.

(2) The Comic Story Laboratory (ages 12 to adult, 2:00 to 3:30 p.m.)

Are you curious—or CRAZY!—about comics? Do you want to create your own comic strip or comic book? Are you perplexed by panel placement, pacing and perspective? Then enter … The Comic Story Laboratory! Ed will dissect the medium and share tips and techniques for starting a simple story, developing a dynamic character, and establishing an engaging environment. While assembling your own 8-page mini-comic to share with friends and family, you’ll learn what makes the comic books unique among the entertainment media. Bring along a pack of blank index cards; pencils, eraser(s), markers and any other drawing tool(s) you feel comfortable using; some sketch paper; and your imagination.

For more information and/or to register for the classes, please call 678-545-0275, or drop by ArtWorks on the Square at 107 Stonewall Ave., Fayetteville, GA 30214. ArtWorks is located on the historic Courthouse Square where Highways 54 and 85 intersect. Parking is available on the west-side corners of the Square in the City Public Parking lots.

The upside to $2 DVDs

A few weeks ago, I bought a "Casper & Friends " DVD at KMart for $1.99. The DVD features four Casper cartoons and four obscure 'toons from the 1930s by Van Beuren Studios. I've already written about the Casper features (>>shiver<<), so now it's the time to address the remaining four cartoons.

Though their titles and credits have been stripped, the cartoons seem to have come from the Van Beuren Studios, where Paul Terry (later of "Terrytoons") got his start. The 'toons feature Gabby, the nuisance of a sleepy, little alpine village; an innocent little mule, named Bucky, tormented by a greedy and unhygienic prospector looking for someone to carry his load; Little Lulu, up to some Bugs Bunny-like hijinx; and--the stand-out for me--Toonerville Folks, featuring the Skipper and his trolley, powerful Katrinka and Molly the Moo-Cow.

I immediately began my research and found myself utterly delighted by the newspaper strip upon which the animated feature was based. In fact, the strip, "Toonerville Trolley" (later, "Toonerville Folks"), which ran from 1913 (though some sites say 1916) and 1955, is better. So good, in fact, that I have to wonder why I'd never heard of it before. I mean, it should be required reading for ALL cartoonists



As an illustrator and cartoonist, I have to say that I fell in love with Fontaine Fox's ability to caricature. His expressive figures are literally bursting with energy, and their emotions often have them airborne! But all this raw power is held together by the subject matter; that is, life in a small town that seems to lie at that mythic junction between the "big city" and "the country." Make no mistakes: Life isn't always quiet and doesn't run smoothly, but Fox doesn't dwell on politics or the economy or war. Instead, "Toonerville Folks" celebrates people--their relationships, their idiosyncracies and quirkiness and their affections. The strip is wholesome, without being saccharin or naive. And Fox does it all with gentle humor and a genuine appreciation for the human condition. It's a testament to his ingenuity and unique, creative vision that it never became a "legacy" strip; when Fox retired, the strip stopped.

Fox wasn't above merchandising, either. In addition to three animated features that I've seen, his characters showed up in books and on cracker boxes, magic paper folders, masks, gum wrappers, bisques and cutout sheets. There's also a tin replica of the Skipper and his trolley that shows up on eBay as a prime collectible, often costing hundreds of dollars. But, as far as I can tell, the only book collecting a fraction of his work was published in 1972, and it often sells at collector's item prices, too. (I got lucky, finding an inexpensive and almost perfectly preserved copy on eBay.)

Needless to say, my inner cartoon junkie is thrilled by this discovery and grateful to be learning something new about the tradition of American newspaper cartoons. I'm eager to track down more cartoons and wondering what it will take for some enterprising publisher to reprint Fox's entire run. Because I think "Toonerville Folks" is worth preserving and, more importantly, should be part of any curriculum that focuses on cartooning or the history of American newspaper cartoons.

So as disturbing as those Casper cartoons might be by contemporary standards, I'm glad I spent the $1.99 because it helped me discover an American treasure and something about which to be enthusiastic.

Thanks, Mr. Fox. Rest in peace.

The downside to $2 DVDs

A few weeks ago, I bought a "Casper & Friends " DVD at KMart for $1.99. The DVD features four Casper cartoons and four obscure 'toons from the 1930s by Van Beuren Studios. G1RL, of course, thinks the cartoons are great and watches them multiple times a day.

The Casper cartoons were clearly created by people who treated their antipsychotic medications as optional. In one, perpetually lonely Casper lies down on a train tracks to kill himself and end his fruitless quest for friendship. The train drifts right through him, though; epic Fail.

In another, his fetch-the-stick friend, Ferdie the Fox, is gunned down by a vicious hunter (the shot flies through our intangible hero), but it works out in the end: Ferdie rises from the dead to continue his game with the hapless ghost, forever and ever.

In the third, Casper desperately flies to the moon to find friendship, only to be rejected by the "cute," Lilliputian-like "men in the moon," who immediately come under attack by the Tree People. Casper, of course, desperate to curry favor and win their approval, rushes to the moon-men's aid and ties the Tree People's feet together below the moon's surface, thus trapping them in the moon-men's city. Of course, looking around the city, one immediately notices that EVERYTHING the moon-men own is made from wood ... which means that Casper, that needy and insecure little knucklehead, has inadvertently joined the wrong side of the conflict and directly contributed to the annihilation of the Tree People--all in his search for validation.

In short, from these cartoons, we learn that Casper's entire existence is an object lesson in "selection error."

As a parent, how do I explain this stuff--death, suicide, extreme prejudice, obsequiousness, myopic servility and being a party to genocide--to a preschooler? I've been lucky so far, but I know in my bones that questions are percolating beneath her surface.

"Hey, sweetie. Let's watch 'Blue's Clues' instead. I think Steve is really gonna need your help today."

To be continued ...

Missed the boat!

Darn it!

I totally blew my chance to get a copy of Kevin Dart & Chris Turnham's amazing book, Fleet Street Scandal: A Collection! It has sold out EVERYWHERE! ... Like it never existed. But I know it did. I once held a copy in my hand ... > sob < Then I put it down. Clearly, I was unwell that day. > sigh <