Overanalyzing Leafboy (2005)

This drawing has been my most prized possession since I drew it when I was 15. Samantha (co-author of this blog) and I were talking one day about the one thing we could save from a house fire, and this drawing was my answer. I don't think it has any incredible artistic value, honestly. It's not a masterpiece of execution and technique, but it is the first time I ever felt a certain way and laid it on paper perfectly, and with him being our mascot, I thought that for our first publication, I would take a moment to explain him.

I have been underweight since birth. High metabolism combined with a relentless drive to do things physically has kept me thinner than I'm comfortable with being. I was uncomfortable with my body - Samantha deals heavily in social science issues regarding body image/identity and could probably explain it more effectively. Leafboy looks like I felt, made of leaves and liable to blow away or crumple with the next breeze. The flat expression and empty eyes were indicative of the isolation I felt from my peers. I had recently ventured into the local hardcore scene and discovered that I didn't fit in there even more than I didn't fit in at my high school. I played in bands and had a studio in my house, so I was around the cool kids, but when the show was over, I went home alone. Leafboy is an onlooker, on the outside looking in. He's unattractive, emaciated, pensive and sad, and so was I.

I think an encounter with him would be pretty horrific. He would sound like rustling leaves when he walked, a horrible rattling when when he spoke, and you could always see through his eyes. Most of the reason that he means so much to me is that I look at him now as a freeze-frame of 2005, and as my life and outlook have changed so drastically for the better since then, I can look at the unsure expression on his face and know that things have turned out much better than expected.

-Brian