Hey all, here, I have a yours-truly additional story to share—both Hazel’s calling card and inspiration for said card are direct adaptations of my own experiences:

Firstly, I created this exact same comic when I was in a class in high school I wasn’t quite interested in, but still had to take because it’s just what the system required at the time if I ultimately wanted to go to college after I graduated.  Around that same time, I had said under my breath those exact same words aloud, looking mournfully at the classroom clock… and at the time, two classmates of mine had overheard me, chuckled confusedly, and said, “Wha..?” They’d never heard that saying before. Now, every once in a while, I’ll catch myself saying the same when I find myself in a setting I don’t truly want to be in.

You can read the fullest Thrilling Tale of Vacant Bird in this month’s newsletter— I include it, among other reasons of appropriateness for the page this week, in the same space where I’m making changes in how I communicate TL things to you all, indeed claiming TL’s differences from the norm— from here on out. (You can read more there, read past entries here, and subscribe to my future newsletters if you like.)

As for Hazel’s calling card, my own calling card for the same assignment held a different different-bird that I’d come up with. At the time I completed my card, it had not occurred to me to include Vacant Bird; I instead tried multiple designs at first, ultimately landing on the decision to draw a *different bird* amongst “normal birds” I’d seen in Scotland my first week there. It’s only in hindsight that I realize I was in fact recycling the same idea I’d had years prior— but as I have heard a famous storyteller once say, we do tend to tell our same story each time, no matter what new things we create.









(My original calling card, designed early that first semester for the Edinburgh College of Art assignment.)