Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Kelly Phillips. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Kelly, appreciate you joining us today. Are you happy as a creative professional? Do you sometimes wonder what it would be like to work for someone else?
Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers
I’m a lifelong fan of comics. Telling a story where words and images enhance one another, consumed at the reader’s pace (forwards, backwards, upside-down, and sideways), is the unique magic of comics. After getting an art degree (specifically in digital media; I had graphic or web design aspirations at the time), I stumbled across independent (or underground) comics scenes. I had read all kinds of comics since I was young – Marvel and DC, newspaper strips, Garfield and Kliban collections, manga, web comics – but it wasn’t until my early 20s that I discovered what people a lot more like me were making, and oftentimes, self-publishing. And what truly piqued my interest were the comics these people were making about their own lives, starting with the oh-so-humble Hourly Comic Day, where you are tasked with making one comic (a strip, a panel, whatever) for each hour that you’re awake on February 1st. Then, you post it online, and everyone can read about how others experienced the same day.
At the same time, I was starting to make more of my own slice-of-life and memoir comics. I joke that comics are a cheap form of therapy for me, but they’re also a fantastic means of connecting with other people. One of the projects I’m best known for is Weird Me, the true story of how I was a moderately successful teenage webmaster of a “Weird Al” Yankovic fan site in the year 2000. It’s my journey of re-connecting with a part of my life where a single person and his music meant the absolute world to me, and what it means to embrace your inner weirdo. This comic project has led me to more opportunities and personal relationships than I could have ever imagined, so I often preach the gospel of not only sharing your most embarrassing teenage antics, but also summoning the bravery to put yourself and your work out there. You never know where it might lead you!
I’m also deeply, endlessly proud of creating a space for women and femme cartoonists to share their stories, and small windows into their real lives, especially for those that had never been published before. Our goal has been to lower the barrier to entry and prop girls up, and even though we ended the anthology in its current form with our 10th installment, around the theme of Death, we’re looking forward to what’s next for Dirty Diamonds and continuing our mission to loudly celebrate these creators.
What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?
Ultimately, I think three things matter most: 1) Pay/buy things from artists you like, 2) Tell people about the artists you like, 3) Tell the artists you like that you like their work.
In our dismal and inescapable capitalist society, artists need to be able to afford a lifestyle where they can continue to make things that you enjoy. If an artist does the pencils for a comic series you love, it’s worthwhile to look them up and see what they may make for themselves. If an artist you follow is trying to crowdfund a project, even a few dollars can be that essential bit of momentum they needed (and having run my fair share of campaigns, I speak from hardened experience that I’m grateful for EVERY backer). More broadly, companies that hire artists need to value the work that’s being created for them and ensure they’re paying fair, livable rates and wages. This may all seem like basic “fuck you, pay me” advice, but it bears repeating so long as it remains an issue.
When it comes to talking about and talking to artists, I’ve experienced just how uplifting and rewarding it is to KNOW that I’ve made something that matters to someone. It’s one of my favorite parts of exhibiting at comics festivals – connecting with people, and making sure they know that I laughed at their joke, that I think their art is beautiful, that I’m excited to see what they make next. Acknowledgment matters, and word-of-mouth matters! Distribution is challenging enough in independent comics, so sharing with others does miles of good. Also, I don’t believe artists will ever get sick of hearing that something we made evoked a feeling, particularly in a grueling, solitary field like comics. And I always hope that kind of energy and behavior becomes infectious.
For you, what’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative?
Being done with a project. HA.
Quite honestly, making art is hard. Telling stories is hard. Hitting deadlines is hard. So many times it can be fueled by passion and excitement, but when the momentum dies down or when I hit a particularly tough part of the process, something else needs to get me through it. Summoning passion and excitement doesn’t always work, so I’m particularly happy with myself both when I find the resilience to power through some portion of my work that day and I make some progress… AND when I forgive myself on the days that I simply can’t, and I don’t make anything at all. Being kind to myself, while also not giving in to my enormously overpowering procrastinating nature, is ridiculously hard, so when I’m finally finished with a project, I really need to enjoy the afterglow of what I managed to accomplish. It’s easy to look back on a project and think about all the fun parts, but I also try to thank myself for the parts that were a slog.
Contact Info:
- Website: http://www.kellyphillips.net
- Instagram: @kellypcomics
- Twitter: @kellypcomics
- Other: http://www.dirtydiamonds.net
Image Credits
Kelly Phillips