There is always a poignancy in little tragedies

You may have figured out by now that I enjoy odd comics. I have linked to a few in the past, and now want to share a new one that I've found and am enjoying.

This one is called Pictures for sad children, and is written and drawn by John Campbell.

He describes his work as "pretty okay" and "about a bad feeling you get when you are feeling good, or a good feeling you get when you are feeling bad".

Thus, these comics may not be appropriate for sad children.

Have a look, you'll probably like them.

Comments

Virginia said…

Kris,
Small world. I taught 3rd grade here in Birmingham with a young man from Tasmania!! Thanks for stopping by.

11 July 2008 at 12:16

Meead said…

You have a cute baby. In such cases, Persian people say to each other: "God save your kid for you, and you for your kid".

Thanks for your comment Kris.

11 July 2008 at 13:18

Kitty said…

I like the style of these drawings. They look familiar to me.
Hm. I'll have to figure out where I've seen them.

11 July 2008 at 21:39

Jane Hards Photography said…

Well living with a cartoonist i am force fed them. Thoughtful one this one.

By the way. Gary did one for the G8Summit this week, with them feeding off decapitaed endangered species heads, with the caption, the world is starving, let them eat Mcdonanlds. BBC bottled it ro caviar. Not quite got the same.

11 July 2008 at 22:00

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral

Zeal, n. A certain nervous disorder afflicting the young and inexperienced. A passion that goeth before a sprawl.

Here I have tried my hand at the homemade sepia-toned photo. I wasn’t happy with the way that the sun had washed out some of the colours in the original, so had a bit of a fiddle because I like the look on Henry’s face, and didn’t want to pass on posting it. I have a tip for those of you burdened with the great, unceasing weight of parenthood. I have a new recipe, in the vein of the quick microwaved chocolate cake . Get this, microwaved potato chips . I gave them a run on Sunday, Henry liked the so much I did it again last night. Tonight, I shall be experimenting with sweet potato. I think that the ground is open for me to exploit opportunities in the swede, turnip, carrot and maybe even explore in the area of pumpkins. Radical, I know. I’m a boundary-pusher by nature. It's pretty simple, take the potato. Slice it thinly (it doesn't have to be too thin, but thin enough). Lay the slices on the microwave plate, whack a bit of salt over the top and nuke the buggers for five minut

This will hurt me...

Search This Blog