I won’t get too much into the specifics of the hows and whys it came to be, suffice to say it mostly is due to me being an animation fan whose teenage years were firmly planted in the 90s… but by the time I hit my early 20s, I was pretty darn anime.
In June 2003 —The month I began Girly— I was 25… I was still quite the anime, but my inner-rebellion against it was well under way.
I was determined to get over anime completely within five years, and I worked so hard to achieve that seemingly impossible goal.
Less than a year into Girly, I already practiced up, by becoming extremely offended whenever anyone dared compared my work to anime. I started paying more and more attention to cartoon art, the lessons of the great prophet Kricfalusi, and generally exposing myself to as much non-anime sources of inspiration as I possibly could.
Not everyone agreed with my course of action. People would tell me I was on the wrong path, and so determined I was in my quest, that I would get into arguments with almost everyone. I hurt a few relationships, and lost hundreds of readers. But certainly it would all be worth it in the end. The anime had to go, at all costs.
By Chapter 12, I reached the peak. The inking was super-chaotic and the consistency in my art was almost non-existant…. but the anime was at an all-time low. Surely… surely, it was worth it.
It wouldn’t leave me feeling empty in the end at all, surely.
……..3.9 chapters later, I have drawn a comic with an anime transformation sequence.
Perhaps I have skipped quite a bit of the story just now, but what is there to say, really. Over time, I figured things out. Sure, I owe a lot to western cartoons, but there’s no denying that anime was a huge part of my life too, and yet I devoted so much energy to denying it.
To deny anime was to deny myself. I know this now.
I have seen myself in the mirror.
And there is toast in my mouth.