There’s always a tension in blogging – the tightrope between revealing too much and too little about yourself. I guess it’s inevitable that some stuff will come out but I don’t want my whole life on the WWW. Still, when you’re drawing, particularly cartoons of a personal nature, particularly the kind that reflect your daily life, it’s tough to call it. Some things are exaggerated for comic effect but are still based on true events and yet are perhaps less revealing than other cartoons which are entirely imaginary but reveal something deeper about the ‘draw-er’ (sorry, can’t quite bring myself to say artist!). The latter is true of today’s cartoon. It’s part of a conversation with the Black Dog – a well-known metaphor for depression. Only it isn’t my Black Dog, it’s the Black Dog of my nearest and dearest, but since we live in the same house, well… I asked the husband if he minded my putting this up. He doesn’t, although he did remark that my hair is not  that straight at present so perhaps I should mention in the interests of accuracy that my hair currently resembles a bird’s nest, a wet bird’s nest. Anyway, living with depression – yours or that of someone near to you – is very hard, and if you are also in our boat then I pray for all of us that one day we’ll find that the dog has got out from under our feet and wandered far away.

Pencil on paper

(I think if you click you get a bigger version.)


One response to “Eighty-seven

  1. Pingback: 114 « Daub.·

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