We recently connected with Dana Cox and have shared our conversation below.

Dana, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Can you talk to us about how you learned to do what you do?

I think everyone knows how to make comics to some degree.

The other day, I was hanging out with my friend’s five-year-old daughter, and we made a comic together about going to the park and seeing a spider eat a fly. It was six pages long and had everything a good story needs: friendship, drama, intrigue, spiders…

Making comics isn’t hard. It’s fun!

What was hard to learn was the more abstract stuff—how to not be so self-conscious, how to be vulnerable, how to share work even when you think it’s kind of bad, how to keep going when you’re pretty sure you suck.

I have a ton of insecurity when it comes to making art.

Growing up, I was never the best artist in my class, and when I got to high school, I didn’t take art because I was intimidated by the teacher. In my first year of college, I didn’t declare a major and didn’t take any art classes. I only took my first art class after transferring to Evergreen State College, a school with no formal grades and a curriculum structured around quarter-long interdisciplinary programs.

I remember feeling so embarrassed propping up the first painting I ever did for that first-ever art class critique. I knew it was bad. The other students knew it. The professor knew it. But I kept at it, and I got a little* bit better.

When I graduated from college, I applied for any arts-related internship I could find. Eventually, that led me to a web design internship, which eventually turned into a full-time position. Now, ten years later, I’m a software engineer.

I let making art slip away from me in exchange for the reliability and consistency of a 9-5, but I never stopped drawing. Throughout my life, I’d fill every notebook, post-it, or whiteboard I saw with doodles. It’s sort of a nervous tic, but it actually helps my anxiety. In the midst of chaos or stress, it’s what connects me most to myself. I probably could have learned somatic breathing, but instead, I chose to make drawings of myself vomiting, dogs skateboarding, bowls of spaghetti, or whatever else I happened to be thinking about.

In 2018, I had the idea to record every doodle I made for a year. I created an Instagram account for it because, at the time, it seemed like the best way to keep track of them all. When the year was over, I felt encouraged—not only that I had friends who actually liked seeing my drawings, but also that I could accomplish a creative goal. The next year, I bought a cheap, used Samsung tablet and made a children’s book called Heidi Hider the Spidey Spider’s National Park Road Trip. In 2020, I did nothing because the world was on fire and my brain was mush. (I did get a puppy, though!) In 2021, I made another children’s book for my nephew. In 2022, I did the yearly Instagram doodle challenge again.

In 2023, I felt ready for a bigger project, and that’s when I found SAW (The Sequential Artists Workshop). I took an online class on zine-making taught by Sarah Maloney and was hooked. Next, I enrolled in SAW’s year-long program. It was the most fun I’ve ever had learning anything. There were drawing classes, comics history lectures, and a very practical class about how to actually produce artwork—it was all incredible. I felt like I found my people, and I had structure and deadlines that pushed me to create. (This reads like an ad for SAW, but I promise it’s not; it was just really good for me.)

I’ve finished 8 mini-comics now, which I gathered into one 84-page collection and tabled at two zine fests. I’ve read my comics aloud twice at live storytelling shows. Last year, one of my comics was nominated for Best Comic Zine of the Year by Broken Pencil Magazine.

Today, I’m working on a full-length graphic novel.

I get discouraged a lot. The doubt and insecurity are always going to be there somewhat.

I still don’t have a ton of Instagram followers. I’m not going to quit my day job.

BUT I feel more authentically myself than I ever have. ALSO, once in a while, someone tells me that they felt seen by something I made, and let me tell you, that’s a 10/10 feeling. So I’m going to keep working at it because I like to and because it’s worth it to me, whether or not I ever make any money from it.

TL;DR: I don’t make a living doing art, and honestly, I’m not even that good at it, but it feeds my soul, so I’m going to keep doing it forever, even if no one wants me to.

*Like 1% better, then worse, then 1% better again.

Dana, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

Hi! I’m Dana. I make comics.

Most of my comics are autobiographical (although I’ve got one about grocery stores that really slaps.)

I like to tell stories about growing up in Los Angeles, existential crises, and about my reactive dog, Waffles.

They all have a little humor in them, a little depth, and drawings of people with four fingers instead of five, because for me, drawing realistic hands is impossible.

Is there mission driving your creative journey?

One of my goals in making comics is to learn to enjoy every step of the process. It’s exciting when a comic is done and I can share it, but I want to enjoy scripting, inking, sketching and drawing thumbnails equally as much.

I’m a child of capitalism (aren’t we all) so for a long time I felt like a final product that could be consumed was all that mattered.

Learning to slow down and savor the process just makes it all more fun and the more fun making art is, the more I’m going to prioritize it.

What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?

The idea that the label, “artist” is sacred is an idea I had to unlearn.

You don’t need to be in the industry to be an artist. You don’t need to have a gallery show. You don’t need a book deal. You don’t need to have an instagram reel with a million views of a reverse painting you did on a mirror with gold leaf.

You don’t need to do anything.

You can making a drawing in sand at the bottom of a dark cave, just for yourself and you’d still be an artist if that label feels right to you.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.danacoxcomix.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/dana_dooodles