[MUSIC PLAYING]
Hello, everyone and welcome.
Thank you for joining us today's program
featuring author Isabel Quintero and artist Zeke Pena,
presented as part of the Wignall Museum's Home Edition.
Home Edition is a series of curated artists talks,
workshops, and discussions featuring
artists and cultural workers.
My name is Rebecca Trawick, and I
serve as the director and curator of the Wignall Museum
at Chaffey College.
The Wignall Museum is a teaching museum,
an interdisciplinary arts space that introduces Chaffey College
students, faculty, staff, and community members
to innovative contemporary art objects and ideas.
By fostering critical thinking, visual literacy, discourse,
and empathy, the museum seeks to enhance
the intellectual and cultural life of our community.
We want to take a moment to recognize that we are situated
on the Rancho Cucamonga campus of Chaffey College, which
resides on the traditional and unceded lands of the Tongva
people.
We offer our recognition and respect
to the elders both past, present and future.
Hi, everyone.
My name is Andy Hadle, I'm the preparator at the museum,
I will be assisting Rebecca and Roman with today's Zoom
session.
Hello, my name is Roman Stollenwerk,
I'm assistant curator at the Wignall Museum.
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Thank you.
Thanks, Roman and Andy.
So today I have the honor of introducing
our guest artist, author Isabel Quintero and artist Zeke Pena.
Zeke Pena makes comics and visual narratives
to reclaim stories and remix history.
Pena was born in Las Cruces New Mexico
and grew up in El Paso, Texas.
While doodling in the margins of his notebook,
he received a degree in art history
from the University of Texas at Austin.
His work uses a mash up of political cartoon,
border rasquache, and hip hop culture
to address universal themes of identity, politics, ecology,
and social justice.
He has won awards for his book illustrations,
and his work is in several collections
of American and Chicano art.
Pena is currently digging into family history
to write stories for future projects.
Isabel Quintero is an award winning author and the daughter
of Mexican immigrants.
She lives and writes in the Inland Empire.
Her first novel, Gabi: A Girl in Pieces,
was the recipient of multiple awards and honors.
Quintero is the author of the chapter books Ugly Cat
and Pablo, and Ugly Cat and Pablo and the Missing Brother.
In 2016, she was commissioned by the J. Paul Getty museum
to write a non-fiction YA graphic biography
on Mexican photography icon Graciela Iturbide, illustrated
by Zeke Pena.
Photographic went on to win the Boston Globe Foreign Book
Award, among other recognitions.
My Papi has a Motorcycle, also illustrated by Zeke Pena,
was awarded the Tomas Rivera award, and a Pura Belpre honor.
Quintero has a story included in the anthology
Come On In, published in 2020.
And I'm happy to announce that Come On In
is the Chaffey College One Book, One College official selection
for the upcoming year.
So that means the college will teach and study the book
during the 21/22 academic year.
So look to the OBOC web page for info
on activities, discussions and events.
I'll include that link in the chat as well.
So please join me in welcoming Zeke and Isabel
to Home Edition.
Good afternoon, everyone.
It's really exciting to be here.
Zeke and I are happy.
Well, I hope Zeke is happy to be here.
Yes.
We're happy to be here and happy to be presenting in the IE,
at least virtually.
So, and I'm excited about the Come On In anthology being part
of the One Book One College.
Addy had told us that it was One Book One College somewhere
in Southern California, but he didn't
mention what college it was at.
So it's kind of nice to be presenting here for that.
Hello, everyone.
Greetings, everyone.
I am Zeke Pena, and thank you so much,
Rebecca and Roman and Andrew and the Wignall Museum
for having us and making this space for us.
Yeah, I think we were excited about this opportunity
to maybe try something different that I don't believe--
have we done something like this before?
I don't know we've done something like this.
But we're going to just kind of interview each other
and ask questions.
I have a slideshow of some of our work
that we've done, the collaborations that we
have worked on over the years.
And we're also excited to hear any questions
that you all might have.
So, yeah.
We'll be kind of doing like a conversation with each other.
It was between conversation.
We wanted to try something different,
so it was between conversation and dance off,
and we went with conversation.
Only because you know who would win that battle.
Me.
Me, yeah.
Absolutely.
OK.
Yeah, so I really enjoy working with you.
A lot of your work, though, the comics that you make,
the art you make, is personal, right.
A lot of your work is personal, whether it
be work around water issues at the border
or stories of growing up in El Paso.
But then you also bring other people's stories
to life with dynamic illustrations
that are thoughtful and revelatory to even
the writer of those stories.
And I speak for myself, and I'm pretty
sure I speak for other writers that you
collaborate with as well.
How did your approach differ between creating
something for yourself and creating
something for someone else?
So I'm trying to think if there is a different approach.
I mean, I think that I--
I feel like I approach them with the same intent, right,
and at the heart of my work is always
story, which I think you can relate to that also,
as a writer.
And it's honoring that story.
I think first and foremost, it's honoring
the people whose story it is.
I think it's also an interesting question
because I feel like the stories that I make about myself are
in some ways, always about the other people that make me
who I am.
So if I'm telling a story about me,
it's actually I'm telling a story about my grandfather
or my grandmother or my parents or my family or something.
And always kind of wanting to acknowledge that, that those
are the things that make me who I am.
And then I think in working with community over the years,
it's about telling that story.
Participating and collaborating and telling that story
with other people.
And the thing that I talk a lot about, I guess,
when I'm giving other presentations,
and you've probably heard me say before is that I don't--
I try not to elevate or put on a pedestal too much what I do.
I see myself as having a set of skills
and really just trying to be a tool for the community.
So I am something or someone that people
can tap to say, hey, we need help with this project
or we need help doing this.
And I think that that definitely changes my approach
when I'm working on a project towards just
focusing on what the story is that the people are trying
to tell.
So for you and I, to get specific to some
of the collaborations that you and I have worked on,
that's why I'm always asking you questions
when we work on something.
I'm always like, OK, well, what does this mean,
or what connection does this have for you.
And then also just specific things about characters,
what would this character do?
How does this character look?
And I think-- and it's something that we found out,
that our experience at Cinco Puntos Press.
And for those people who are unfamiliar, Gabi:
A Girl in Pieces, the slides you're looking at right
now was how Isabel and I met through a book that
was published by Cinco Puntos Press.
And it was both of our-- it was my first time
having my work published by the book industry,
and it was Isabel's first formally published work
by a book publisher, and we collaborated on that.
And what you and I found out, right,
was that it was unique for us to be able to even have
conversation with each other.
So I'll throw the question back to you.
It's a similar question, which is,
the difference between working on photographic, which
is the slides that you are looking at right now,
The Life of Graciela Iturbide, and then us, either are you
writing Gabi, or working on My Papi Has a Motorcycle.
So how does that differ for you and your approach?
I like what you said about intent.
And I was about to ask you my least favorite question
that you ask me, what do you want the audience to get out
of your work.
And you make me think about that.
So it's a different thing that I have
to think about from when I'm writing the personal
and then I'm writing, for example, Graciela Iturbide's
life, right?
I think one of the obvious differences is for example,
My Papi Has a Motorcycle is based
on a memory of me riding on the back of my dad's motorcycle
as a kid.
So if you read the book, there's an author's note
in the end that pretty much explains
what the book is about.
It's a love story for Cornona, those of you from the IE.
It's a love letter to Corona and a love letter to my dad.
And so I have my memory to excavate for that book.
I can dig through my memory, I can dig through the feelings
that I know I had when I rode on the back of my dad's
motorcycle.
I can feel the connection I have with a certain location,
geography-- that's my child screaming,
so if that's what you're hearing,
he's screaming in the background.
So that relatability to space, to a specific location.
And that's all very personal.
And I can I know where Cupid's is,
and I know how I felt when they covered it
up with now the Taco shop thing, and so it's just the outline.
But for something photographic, I'm having to not--
I don't have that access.
I don't have the access to those memories, to that experience
or to those feelings.
And so I'm dependent on--
I was dependent not only on Graciela,
because even a lot of it, we sent Graciela questions,
but we'd get the responses from her assistant.
Like sometimes she'd answer--
she's also older-- sometimes she answers, but sometimes
her assistant would answer.
And so now it's more degrees of separation.
And even more so when I'm digging through interviews.
Now how I'm looking through an interview of not only what
she said about a certain thing about process,
but on how the interviewer-- like what did they cut,
what did they keep.
And so I feel like I had to do a lot more--
I just had to be way more careful.
Way more careful because one, this
is somebody else's story that was entrusted
to me to bring to an audience.
And two, she's alive still, so it's not
like I'm writing about an artist who's
passed away who I only have to worry about their ghost.
I have to worry about Graciela being upset that I didn't
do a good job with their story.
And then also, my interpretation of all of that--
I don't know, it's not a book report.
Like these things happen, it's not just the timeline.
It's like an actual story, it's a narrative.
And so I had to figure out how I wanted to present that.
And ultimately, after going back and forth,
we ended up doing it--
ended up writing a little bit more lyrical than what
I had initially aimed for.
So yeah, it's a weird dance.
That makes me think of one of the other questions
that I was thinking about asking you which is, if you
could talk a little bit about--
because you practice writing in many different ways
and many different forms and kind of modes.
So talking about the lyrical, like
you used some of that lyrical kind of way
of writing in photographic.
Can you talk about how writing poetry
has helped you go on to then develop longer narratives?
And kind of the interplay between those two things.
Do you go to one more than the other?
Do you feel more comfortable writing poems
and lyrical stuff more than writing
these longer narratives?
And what has that been like between those two?
If you had asked me in 2012, I would have said poetry.
I would have said poetry all the way, 2013.
Because I really hadn't had any real experience writing fiction
because that's all I had written was poetry.
And I had envisioned that my first book
would be a collection of poems.
And now, it's been really hard for me
to get back into writing poems.
It's been a few--
been a couple of years that I've actually
sat down to write poems.
And part of it was, there was a point where
I was writing poetry, trying to get back into it,
but I found myself really preoccupied with my mom dying.
Like, my head-- like she became mortal.
And now I realized, oh, my mom, someday she's
not going to be here.
And it was very stressful.
And every time I would sit and write,
that's what I would write about.
And I just didn't want to, so I kind of stopped for a minute,
writing poetry.
But poetry is always, always there.
It's been my first love when it comes to writing
and it's helped me in a lot of ways.
So in poetry there a lot of cutting, right?
You've got a little limited space to either tell a story
or to present an image or whatever
it is that you're trying to do with a poem.
And you just cut, right.
And so that helps me.
I know you don't believe this, but it helps
me cut a lot of the excess.
And I think I feel--
sometimes I feel less attached to it
than some other prose writes that I speak to who are like,
oh, I didn't want to cut this whole section or whatever.
And I'm like--
You feel more free to edit?
Yeah, I feel more free to edit--
Yeah, I feel more free to edit.
And also, I feel like I worry a lot about language
and what a sentence sounds like, which I know,
probably comes from that, from practicing poetry.
Because how does this sentence sound
when you read it out loud?
What word-- like I really focus on word choice a lot of times.
And so it's really helpful, but sometimes it is like, OK,
is it all just like--
Just say the thing.
So then what about that transition then away
from that kind of freedom of like the prose and the poetry,
right, to then having to be very specific
and write a sentence with a period at the end of it
that connects to another sentence
and so on and so forth.
So how was that transition from then going on to write Gabi--
well, Gabi is interesting, right?
Because it has that in there.
But how has it been moving forward
from that, and that transition away from the poetry?
I don't know if I've ever like moved away completely.
Because like Gabi-- initially Gabi was a novel in verse.
So some of those sections in Gabi are just delineated poems.
I was like, I'm going to just make
this look like a paragraph, and that's what I did.
And in some of my other work--
interestingly enough in that Come
On In anthology, the story, or the excerpt that's in there,
is actually an excerpt from the novel
I'm working on that, that just got sold, a young adult novel.
And it's like changed completely.
But at one point, that particular novel was,
in my mind I was like, I'm just going
to do chapters of delineated poems.
That's what I'm going to do.
I'm going to do this really experimental thing
and blah blah.
And then I was doing it I was like, oh, my God, I can't--
I can't do this.
I don't have it in me.
But I don't know.
I just wish I had this great answer for questions like this.
Does it get in the way?
I'll ask you a more direct question.
Because it sounds like--
and so I have a similar experience,
like I'm coming to making comics and making books definitely
through the back door.
I don't have a degree, like self-taught, learn
all this stuff on YouTube.
And so I'm coming at it from making community posters,
making album covers for bands.
It's a lot of cover work and things like that.
And so it's a double edged sword for me.
On some ends, it really makes my work look unique,
I feel like, the process that I go about in approaching it
and the way that I see it and visualize it.
But then for me, it does also get in the way sometimes.
It gets in the way of the process and being what I think
would be like considered efficient.
Like an efficient way of producing work
and an efficient way of finishing a project, basically.
So do you have-- do you feel like it ever-- no?
No, no.
And I think that you and I, because we're similar,
that I didn't study creative writing.
My degree is in composition.
And I don't have an MFA, I've taken like two creative writing
classes, and that's like it.
Besides doing a workshop with friends and stuff.
And I think that it's actually--
those kinds of things are beneficial,
like coming in through the back door, because I think we're not
weighed down by this is how it has to look to be professional.
This is what a comic looks like, right,
or this is what a novel looks like.
And if it doesn't have A, B, and C, then it's not a real novel,
it's not a real piece of work, or not a real comic.
And so I really think that poetry--
I think it is poetry because there's so much freedom in it.
It allows me to see prose and to see fiction in that way,
like how many ways can I tell this story?
So like when you're putting a poem together,
oh, this needs to be a haiku or it needs to be a villanelle
or it needs to be free verse.
Like I just change it.
And I feel that way with writing fiction,
like, oh, this story should be a children's book
and it should be this short.
Or this should be a middle grade novel,
and it should be this, right.
And it's so--
Those norms, those trends of what
publishing is telling us a book is or has to look like, right?
Yeah, yeah.
Yeah, no, I think that going along with the trend thing,
right.
Like I think trends are dangerous.
Trends are dangerous because they change so quickly.
And asking, what are people reading
right now that's going to sell and what's marketable.
Those are things that I think neither
you or I ask each other.
We just create work.
At least I feel that you do, right?
Like you just you're going to create
what you're going to create.
And thankfully, it's been all right.
Yeah, and I mean for me, my ignorance in that
is a blessing in some ways.
I didn't even know what a anything was,
like the middle grade stuff.
And I had primarily been practicing in the studio,
like painting stuff, community projects.
And then the book project came along with you.
And what year is Gabi again, remind me?
2013?
2014.
Yeah, 14.
So then three years later, Photographic comes along
and I just say yes, never having made a full length
graphic novel, like either of us.
And going into that and not knowing just
made me rely on the thing that I did know how to do,
which was static images, more of the studio work.
And then my readers knowledge of what a graphic novel looks
like, and from studying it just from being a participant
in the culture for so long.
And so I think just focusing on the work
and just focusing on the story and having the story center us
I think is what makes that book look really unique
and read really unique.
It doesn't fall into any one of those things,
it's kind of hard to categorize at some point.
Yeah, because neither of us were trying to--
we were just like, this is what our graphic novel
is going to look like.
So this is what you get.
For sure.
So I don't know if this is along the lines,
but I did want to talk about this.
One of the reasons I enjoy collaborating
with you is because I respect you
and your work and that intent you
have of your work and your values, right?
Like say no to projects.
Like that's huge.
That's a huge thing that I constantly
am learning from you about setting boundaries
and what is our worth as an artist, as a writer,
as a creative person.
And you're very community minded and social justice minded.
You do workshops with youth, and you're constantly doing flyers
for community awareness or fundraisers
and in [INAUDIBLE] and surrounding areas.
So how does it affect the way that you view art?
That you your work?
Does it affect your practice?
It's at the center of it.
There's a quote by an author, I'm
going to get all reference-y.
I don't do this often.
But Herbert marcuse He's actually a socialist art
historian, he's like a Marxist and stuff.
And he has this quote that I live by,
which is, he uses the term art.
I won't get into a discussion about art.
I don't use art to refer to my work.
But he uses this term art, and he says,
art cannot change the world, but it can contribute to changing
the consciousness of the people who can.
So it's not that the work itself is doing something,
it's allowing a pathway for connection or engagement.
Or if it's a didactic project, it's
something that's about educating and disseminating
knowledge or information.
And I think that that, again, going back
to that idea of taking the thing off of the pedestal, the work
that I make is not about the object.
I'm not concerned with that, which
is what's excellent about working digitally, right,
is that it creates this confusing--
it creates this confusing thing for museums and galleries
and collectors and the art industry
because it's like, where is the thing that I can hold on to.
Where is the thing that can be shipped from here to here
and the thing.
And I like that about it, because if story
is at the heart of what I'm doing and is
at the heart of my work, that's what's important.
And when I was working on making these large scale paintings,
these like four foot oil paintings on wood
and they're like these really big things
and showing that work in the community, most of the time
the reaction is going to be wow, it's painted so well.
I love the way it painted.
Or this one is the one that I always
get is, it looks so realistic.
And so it's this idea that the reaction that someone
is having to the work is mostly about the technical part of it.
It's mostly about the object and the technicality of painting.
Which is why I moved away from it, which is why
I stopped painting like that.
Because if story is my intent and stories
connection to preserving culture, to creating movement.
For me personally, being a way for me
to unpack the complexities of my identity
in terms of race, class, sexuality,
gender all the things.
Is that comics' and illustration and the digital formats are
a way to easily disseminate work,
the book is an excellent way to disseminate work, the zine,
right?
Which we both practice and making zines.
It's a great way to get that stuff out there
that kind of removes that part of it
where the focus is on the thing.
And it's more about the story and the contents
of what's going on in there.
But, yeah, I mean the community stuff and the community work,
I'm always trying to find that balance of maintaining
the commitments that I have to my community, the long time
and lifelong commitments that I have to my community.
While also needing to take on freelance projects
and work on things to make a living, to support family
and all that stuff.
But I think that the community work is--
it informs the practice.
Because if you look at the history.
of our communities, that practice
of being engaged with the community
is something that has contributed
throughout the generations to providing more opportunities.
If we talk about social justice, racial justice, all
of these things.
And so keeping that at the heart of all the things
that I'm doing.
Because even if it is a freelance project, like
you mentioned saying no to projects.
Saying no saying to projects and having
those critical discussions with publishers and people
who are engaging me to work on stuff
is now part of the practice.
It's now part of the way of practicing those values,
as you mentioned.
Am I the right person to be telling this story?
Are you the right person to be publishing it?
And having all of those questions.
So I think it has definitely entered into my practice
on a day to day basis and professional life with how
I conduct myself and how I engage with people
and being intentional about engaging with those people.
Now that you're more further along in your career,
it's become easier or--
to say no to projects?
Because I think about this, because I do the same thing.
I've been asked to tell stories that I have no business telling
stories about.
And I think that Isable, like before Gabi or when
Gabi came out, had a harder time saying no because of the fear.
Like I just started my career, I should be able to say no.
But then I reflect on that, and that's such a cage
we put ourselves in, also.
Like we just become part of--
like we just continue to just be part
of the cogs in this machine that we're constantly saying like,
this machine needs to change.
OK, well we're not changing, so this machine
is never going to change.
So do you feel it's become easier,
or do you feel like that's just who you've always been?
Of course it becomes easier.
Having several opportunities to work on projects,
it's a privilege.
It's a privilege to say no to things.
It's an economic privilege that I have at this point.
But I'll say that because I worked in doing graphic design.
In graphic design, it's harder to have--
it's harder to practice those kind of like--
it's harder to practice that when you're
doing graphic design, because it's
such a transactional thing, and you're really just having
to make work for whoever's coming through the front door
and saying, hey, I'd like to hire you for a project.
But I think even in that, even in that practice
I've tried to do my best to keep that balance, right.
So even when I was taking projects that were just
strictly business minded, like graphic design projects,
to try to keep that balance to also give my time and my effort
to working on community campaigns and things like that.
It's always just had to be both.
And to your point about being whatever,
a cog in the machine, that's the balance that we have to strike.
How to, I guess, keep that in balance.
Yeah.
What about you?
I mean, how have you--
after Gabi are you having different conversations
with people who are engaging you?
Yeah, I send more lengthy emails to people
asking me to do projects.
Asking them why they're asking me
and not asking these other people that were--
are better equipped at telling the story than I would be.
Or just saying no.
Just plain, just saying no.
Which I think is not--
saying no has it's been a difficult thing
to learn for me.
And I think that comes with being a woman,
the way that I was raised as the Chicana Mexican in my family.
And I'd get in trouble for saying no to things
that I felt that I shouldn't be doing.
So I'd get in trouble all the time.
But I think now as I'm older-- like I'm almost 40.
Just next year I turn 40.
So I should be practicing saying no more often.
And yeah.
So yeah, it's gotten easier.
But I'm looking at the time right now--
We're coming up on our time.
There's a question in the chat, do you want to?
Yeah how do you publish a book?
Yes, so we'll take this question, and then anyone
in the audience, if you want to send
your question through the chat, we'll take them there.
Or if you'd love to speak up, I would personally
love to hear your voice, if you're
willing to offer your question there.
But while you think of a question,
we'll answer this one in the chat,
if you want to take that one.
Yeah, how did you publish your first book
and was it hard to publish it?
If you're a writer out there, one of the things
I will tell you, and you probably already know this,
rejection is part of--
I think any creative person, whether you're a musician,
a visual artist, comic artist.
Although, I hear that cartoonists,
you guys have it pretty easy, right?
Oh, yeah.
It's a breeze.
But rejection, it's just part of the job.
Like in Spanish, we have a saying.
[SPEAKING FOREIGN LANGUAGE] I'm not a little gold coin
that everyone is going to love.
So publishing my first book, I started writing Gabi in 2007
and it was published-- it was bought in 2013.
So there in itself was five years of finishing the project
and then rewriting the whole book from novel
into verse and now prose.
And then trying to look for an agent, and getting rejected.
Sending query letters out to agents.
And then I was like, well, I guess an agent
isn't going to want it.
Then I'm going to try to send it to small publishers.
And that's how I found Cinco Puntos
I was an elementary school librarian and I was buying,
expanding the collection to have more books about Latinx folks
on the shelves.
And that's how I found Cinco Puntos,
because I liked the work they did and I sent it to them.
And thankfully, they liked it.
Fortunately they enjoyed it, really liked the book.
I had already sent them other projects.
And I was just looking through my email,
recently, at the first thing I sent to Cinco Puntos,
and I was like, oh, my gosh, I forgot
I had even sent them this project and they rejected it.
And so that's how that came to be.
I sold it on my own to Cinco Puntos.
That doesn't happen often.
It usually is a small press if that's what you're going for.
And it was hard.
It was hard because publishing can be is the ruthless.
You know, after Gabi started getting
awards and recognitions, it was being put on lists.
Some of those agents that rejected
me actually emailed me and were like, oh, we're
interested in your work.
Like, you weren't interested before.
I don't know what changed.
So, yeah.
It gets a little tough sometimes.
But I do recommend, if you want to publish, it's a lot of work.
But if that is your goal, keep at it.
Keep at it.
And sometimes it's a crapshoot, I'm not going to lie.
Sometimes it's-- you've got to put in the work.
I've talked to people who are like,
I was rejected three times.
I don't think I'm going to be a writer.
Nope, you're not.
You're not going to be a writer if three times you're like,
I'm done.
So just keep at it.
Yeah.
Thank you, and thank you both for your stories.
They're really interesting.
You both seem like you've found like a collaborative groove.
And I'm really interested in artists who collaborate.
And so one of my questions for you
is, where do you feel like you have the most
synergy in your work, and where do you
feel like you have the most points of divergence when
you're trying to create a product together?
Thanks for the question.
You can-- something come to mind for you?
You know, I think--
I have to think on that a little bit.
I think that's the thing.
I mean, in terms of synergy and like where we connect, I mean,
we connect through our friendship.
I don't know, it was weird.
And I think this is something that's important for me
when I'm working with anyone, whether it's a short term
collaboration or a long project kind of collaboration
or a community thing, or even just someone engaging
to work on a project or wanting to showcase work
like a museum or a gallery or something.
I don't know, I just want to talk to them.
There's so much emailing going on and stuff,
and there's something nice about just
being able to share space with someone,
to hear someone's voice, to kind of have conversation.
And I think that we were--
I was trying to be really intentional about creating
that kind of relationship because the first project
that we work on, Gabi: A Girl in Pieces.
I was only doing the book cover, I drew some interior zines,
too.
But I could tell right off the bat
that this was a really important story to Isabel.
And so I wanted to treat it the right way
and treat it with respect.
And so I think where we really sync up
is in that conversation and brainstorming part of it.
It's really much about like, hey, OK,
this is kind of the idea that I have,
what do you think about it?
And in some ways that's about vulnerability.
It's just like a normal relationship thing.
It's about being vulnerable and saying
here's this really, really poorly drawn idea that I have,
like what do you think about it?
And trusting Isabel to say, yeah, that's cool,
that works, or no, I don't think that that's a good idea.
Maybe think about doing this.
So I don't know how you feel about that.
I actually was going to say, I think the fact that we have--
like in any relationship, communication
is really important.
And so I think that I feel free to talk with Zeke about ideas
that I have for projects and to receive his feedback
and criticism.
Because I know it's not going to be--
he's not going to be a jerk about it.
It'll be a good conversation.
And the fact that we often get into conversations
about projects and we're on the same page
about, I'm not feeling this, it's giving me a hard time.
Or what do you think about doing this?
And like, oh, yeah, that's exciting.
The fact that we can be really honest with each
other about things, about work things.
And also people things, like I learned something about myself
from Zeke.
But it's easy.
Because sometimes you do work with people and you're like,
I don't think I ever want to work with this person again.
They're not good at taking criticism or giving criticism.
They're not good at--
they're too scared to tell you what they really
feel about your work.
And so you need honesty and that vulnerability
when you're working with someone in order
to get in to the group-- in order for the work to be good.
To be something that you could both be proud of.
Because I'm proud of the work that we've done together.
I'm not like, oh, that book that I did with that person.
Like I'm excited about it.
So it's not just professional, it goes deeper.
And yeah, absolutely.
And I think it's a personal relationship and I want to--
because I think that that's also something that's
missing from a lot of industries,
is that personal part of like, hey, how are you doing?
Like that sense of care.
Like I care about Isabel as a person.
And that should be first and foremost, like, are you
OK, how are you doing?
OK, I'm good, I'm OK, let's get into it.
And I feel like that just sets a really nice pace
for being able to then go on to have
those vulnerabilities, the conversation, the questioning.
And my critique always comes in questioning.
It's never in like, I think this is good or bad.
What does this mean, or have you thought about this?
Like what does this mean for this person?
So I just wanted to add that.
I love that you have both talked about the relationship
that you two have together, and also working
on Graciela's book, for example, like the trust.
That is really inherent in a successful relationship.
A successful project.
I love that.
And I also love that you both talked
about sort of coming in through the back door
and not really knowing--
like you didn't know the rule book.
So it gave you some freedom to experiment, both as a team
and independently.
And so I think those are parts of conversations
about creativity that are often sort of lost.
So I just-- I love that.
I love that.
Thank you so much.
And then Zeke, since you mentioned care,
and I think that's also something that's often left out
of these conversations, both from an industry
perspective or the relationships that make any industry thrive.
That's often lost.
So in the sort of theme of care, and we've all just--
we're all still living through a really rough year
due to the pandemic, racial unrest and upheaval,
and the sort of long term effects of the public health
crisis that we don't even know.
I don't think any of us really know
what that's going to look like.
So I would just ask both of you, like how--
and Isabel, I also know you're a new mother.
So how has all of this affected your practices
and your focus and sort of what's important to you?
Yeah, I mean, you took-- this was
like my third question for Zeke in my list of questions
I had for him.
Like how has this year affected you?
For me, definitely being a mom has re-shifted some priorities.
I think that's also made me grow into saying no to more things.
Because now I have a child.
And as before, I worked all the time
when we were working on Photographic.
Sometimes it was like 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning,
and Zeke and I were on the phone working on this project.
I can't imagine doing that right now, having a child.
Like that's shifted drastically.
Also, it's put into perspective what
do I want, what do I want my writing career to look like?
Who am I as a writer.
It's making me question all of those things.
And trying to focus on the writing has been hard.
You know, I sold a bunch of books
and now I have to finish them.
Thankfully, I've written a big chunk.
But it's hard, emotionally.
I'm someone who suffers from anxiety
and bouts of depression.
And then having a child during this time
and not being able to have any child
care where my partner is also--
he's also a creative person.
He's a cartoonist.
And so he's having to work on the projects,
I'm having to work on my projects.
There was no one to help us with the kid.
And so that's a lot to put into perspective.
Well, where does my work fit in, and how do I
want my work to fit into this?
And realizing that sometimes, I'm
just not going to write that day.
Like it's just not going to happen.
As much as I want it to happen, and that it's OK.
Things are just going to keep on happening.
I'm going to live the next day, and I will write the next day.
And I've had to really slow down,
really just be more accepting of things and having long
conversations with my therapist about slowing down and just
accepting that I cannot control everything.
I think that's been the biggest thing this last year.
Because I haven't even been able to hug my mom in over a year,
like a lot of people.
My parents.
And it's been hard.
It's been really hard.
Yeah, equally, it's been tough.
I mean, I think creatively, as it relates specifically
to creativity, it's been a very slow moments.
I had all these plans of finishing books.
I'm writing a couple of projects.
And I think, equally, to the issue of care and creativity
is care and collaboration starts with self-care.
Like, if I'm not taking care of myself I don't have--
I'm not in the position or I don't have the capacity
to care for the other person that I'm collaborating
with or in a relationship with.
And then I think, equally, care for a project
that I'm working on is not going to happen unless I'm
in a good place to approach it.
So I think that it's also been a slowing down for me.
Trying to be present in the moment.
But also, the bill's got to get paid.
So it's also a mixture of just kind
of going through and getting things done
when they need to get done.
So it's just been a balance of those two things.
But it has definitely made me re-prioritize,
a little bit, the projects that I'm working on
and be even more intentional about what I'm working on
and how I'm spending my time.
I think that resetting of priorities.
So, yeah.
That's where I've been at with it.
I don't know if there's another question.
I think there's one in the chat.
What-- I don't know if we're up on time, too,
but what gives motivation to keep going.
This comes from Natalie.
And what gives motivation to keep on going,
because I'm taking English as my major,
and I see how I write my essay, and they are low grades.
I feel like that puts me back, because I love writing,
but I don't know if it's good and understandable.
So maybe some writing advice?
Here's the thing about writing, it's practice.
Like that's what it is.
I'm not-- I don't know how I'm going to sound.
This might sound terrible.
There are some things you can teach.
You can learn how to write a better essay, right.
You can learn how to write.
It just means that you are putting in the work.
I think a lot of folks have this idea that writing
is all this inspiration, like I'm outside
looking at the clouds and then I come inside and I'm like,
oh, I write a poem and it's great.
And it's not that.
You are writing and rewriting and rewriting and rewriting
and learning and reading.
So if you look at my--
I did some short stories.
I tried writing short stories early
on when I was at Cal State San Bernardino.
And if you look at them, which you
won't, because they're terrible, but if you look at them,
they're terrible.
They're just like-- I looked back
at them, what was I even trying to do here?
But I kept practicing and I kept rewriting and taking
the critique that I got from other people and learning
and kept reading.
It will happen.
You just have to really keep at it.
If you're trying to tell your truth.
Now in regards to English class, I'm putting teacher hat on.
Essays are hard.
Essays are hard, especially if you're a freshman or sophomore,
I don't know what year you are at school.
It's hard work, but you can do it.
Like I really suggest talking to your professor
and talking to your writing--
the Writing Center, I'm sure there's
a writing center at Chaffey.
Like now I'm really going teacher here.
Go on the Owl at Purdue.
Doing all the things that you're supposed to be doing.
Don't be afraid to ask questions.
That's the thing that I tell my students when I'm teaching.
I adjunct sometimes, so do not be afraid to ask questions.
Because how are you going to grow
if you don't ask questions?
And I'll just throw a little something
out there which is like, for me, it's
about focusing on the technical parts.
Like I'll work on certain things or write certain things,
whether it's a comic or like a little short script
or a little prose thing.
It's like, I'll work on those things
sometimes, just as a technical exercise.
Like it's literally just the exercise of doing it.
And it's not necessarily going to be the greatest
idea or the grandest idea or ever be published
or I'll ever see it again, but it's
the process of doing that over many, many years.
Then, when you get to the thing that you actually
want to be working on, it becomes a little easier.
And I'll say that that's how I've improved my writing, doing
those technical exercises, and then also reading and looking
at the work of others.
So, yeah.
Well, thank you both.
I'm super sorry to say that I think we're at time.
So I want to be respectful of your time and our attendees
time as well.
I have a million more questions, and I
think some of our attendees do, as well.
But I want to thank you both so much for your generosity today.
I love talking about collaboration.
It's not a mystery.
It's a real thing.
Thanks for debunking some of the misconceptions.
Really appreciate both of you.
And I want to thank all of you who
were able to attend today and spend
a little bit of your afternoon with us.
We appreciate you, as well.
Thanks again, Zeke and Isabel.
Take care.
Everyone please take good care.
Thank you so much.
Thank you, have a good one.
Thank you.