Happy Birthday From Camp Shady

Happy Birthday Mr. America!

You’ve been having an amazing week. Congratulations!!! I have been enjoying all of the art that is coming from you. Love the song you did with Pink! Revenge IS sweet! Very excited about your movie Bodied. Inspired by the way you took such a bold stand with Kaepernick against police brutality and Trump’s racist bullshit.

So, I was trying to figure out what kind of art to make for your birthday this year, I wanted it to be super special and I really wanted it to be something that you would really like so I wrote you a horror/comedy screenplay inspired by your Camp Shady merchandise!!


The first draft is finished. I think it’s really funny, it’s very gory and violent and I think it has good, suspenseful plot twists in the story. It would be interesting to see how you would add to it, to really make it yours. However, I am not sending it to you until after your album comes out. That’s right. I am holding it hostage because I’m an American Terrorist.

Annnnd… I made you a comic strip for your Birthday. It’s a reply to your BET Freestyle:


Hopefully, if you see it, you will like it.

You are the artist who inspires me the most in this world. You are a masterful fighter. You have proven that time and time again by your defiance of all odds while pursuing your dreams.

You are also a natural peacemaker and have proven that through the close ties you keep with your friends over the years, and how you help each other through tough spots, and how you show so much love and respect for the artists that have come before you and how you remember the people that inspired you to become a fighter.

I made this comic for you on your birthday, because your freestyle challenged me on my Birthday.

Thank you for reminding me why I was put on this Earth and for motivating me to stay true to myself no matter what, and to be fearless as long as my intentions are good. I hope your birthday is everything you hoped it would be and more. Enjoy all the love and kindness surrounding you and eat some cake. You deserve it.

See you in the trenches, my Hero.


PS  —> I love to play in the sand.






Sorry. Not Sorry.


Once Upon A Time,

I heard you were sick. I panicked. I said, “I have to do something! Eminem cannot die!” Or I will die. (I’m selfish.) And I was REALLY upset. Because I realized there was nothing I could do to get to you, to reach you or help you, and even if I could why would you listen to a total stranger who accomplished nothing in her life?

– And then I heard a voice, in my head, and the voice said, “Tell him Proof sent you.” And I gasped and I said, “I can’t say that, that is horrible!” And the voice said, “Do it. Tell him Proof sent you. Put me in a comic.” And I liked the idea, because suddenly I thought that it was kind of a sweet gesture, because I am socially unintelligent and mildly deranged. But I said once more to the voice, “I can’t do it! It will piss him off and he will fucking hate me!” And the voice said, “Yes, but he will get better fast and live to get his revenge on you, good.”

I smiled a twisted smile and said, “OK, That works for me.”

Sorry, I am an asshole.

Not sorry that I believe in magic because of you.

Thank you for everything.



Yay! Happy New Year!


Hello, Marshall Mathers.

This was an interesting year, huh? Hope you enjoyed a lot of gratifying moments and made a lot of great memories.

Thanks for all the ways you have inspired me to experiment as an artist and writer this year. I feel like I am growing even though it might not seem like it on the surface yet.

Very excited about your new album. Picturing you having the time of your life creating it.  In the meantime enjoying your previous recordings. Been obsessed with your song ‘My First Single’. There is something about the way you rap on that song, it’s one of your slowest, dirtiest, low-down-ish-drawliest, wittiest, most ‘fack’tastic vocal deliveries ever. Don’t you agree? Don’t you agree with me that you are the sexiest, most brilliant and beautiful being that has ever lived on the Earth?

That’s all for now. Till the next time…

Happy, happy, happy, happy, happy New Year!







Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday to you
Marshall Mathers, Eminem and Slim Shady,
my nearest and dearest
imaginary friends.
I love that our birthdays so close together! It feels like all week has been more fun because of it.

Guess what I wished for?

You have been inspiring me so much
to experiment creatively and try new things.

You have been helping me remember
how to create playfully
and joyfully and to see beauty everywhere. So I bought you a gift. I was on the subway and this musician was wearing a shirt that said “I Help Save Lives” and that totally reminded me of you. So I hired him to play Happy Birthday. Enjoy the joy!

Have a beautiful day celebrating another year of evolution and newness! Thank you for your inspiring, brilliant, creative, soul.

Come Up For Air

Do you what you gotta do
I’ll wait for you, to come for air

Cause this whole wide world
There’s no one else for me
So while you search the seas for answers
I will still be waiting here

Make sure you dive down deep
Because if you do
Even though it takes a thousand lifetimes
My love, I know you’re finally gonna see the truth, and you’ll return

And I will still be here
When you come up for air
Do you what you gotta do
I’ll wait for you, to come for air

And even if this really is the end
I’m sure I’ll be alone until I’m dead
Cause no one else will ever quite compare
To them it wouldn’t be fair.

-Skylar Grey, Come Up For Air

Produced by Eminem





8 Miles

My favorite piece of jewelry is made of wood. I wear it every day. It inspires me to keep trying, to keep working, and to never give up my creative dreams.

My work days are between 10-12 hours of sitting at a computer so I walk to and from work to get exercise. It’s a good walk, 8 miles a day, round trip, and I use the time to think about my personal projects that I work on in the evening.

Work is not all I think about. I think happy thoughts about the future, I look at the trees and I wonder about the tree that became the wooden jewelry I wear every day. I wonder how many people sat under the tree that became my jewelry, and played under the tree and kissed under the tree and how long it stood on the Earth before it became many parts of many people’s dreams.

As I walk I smile and I send prayers into the sky to the man who I admire, who made the jewelry possible. I wish for excellent health and true happiness for the man who rescued this piece of wood from a place near when I am walking, who gave it to artists, to make something new, something that would continue to inspire people. I thank him for making this beautiful, sweet symbol of strength, growth, triumph over hardship, and renewal.


Sometimes I hold this piece of wooden art in my hand as I walk. I caress it’s smooth perfection and physically enjoy the carved information. I let my skin absorb the shape of his childhood home and the numbers and letters that measure the point of origin of this great artist’s dreams. I thank the universe for him. I thank him for his voice because he has shown me that I have everything I need as long as I work hard, keep learning and have hope.


I am Shady Army forever, a loyal soldier who fights for life, art and love.

Thank you, Shady.



Miracles From Detroit In New York


Remembering that the first people to ever pay me for my drawings was Motown Records…


When I was 20, I was part of a group of young artists in Bad Boys Studios (I was the only girl). Bad Boys Studios founder, Mike Davis discovered us at various comic book conventions. He convinced Motown to make a line of superhero comic books but for some reason he had me do a biographical comic about Smokey Robinson and the Miracles as part of the pitch presentation to get the deal.


These are the only drawings I have left. I must have given Mike all the original, finished work. Back then I didn’t realize artists are supposed to keep their originals. I didn’t get paid for these drawings. I got paid later for designing the cities that the Motown Comics heroes would be fighting evil in.

When Mike asked me to design the cities I was a little nervous because I didn’t know shit about drawing buildings. All I knew how to draw when I met him was Red Sonja walking across the desert and killing dudes in taverns and on ships. The day I gave Mike the first drawings of the cities he said, “What the fuck is this shit, bitch!? This shit looks like a fucking 9 year old drew this shit.” I just smiled, Mike was a colorful guy. I started taking notes. “You got it, Mike. These are shit.” He got angrier because I wasn’t getting upset. “Where the fuck is the perspective? How the fuck are our heroes supposed to fly through this 2 dimensional shit? This shit sucks.” I smiled and nodded. “No problem, I will go get a book on perspective.” He was shaking with rage. I looked at the other two people in his office, his secretary,  (an aspiring cartoonist, who told me a few days before how lucky I was to be the only girl allowed to draw for the group), and one of the other artists, they  were both shrinking into the corner, humiliated for me. I was smiling like nothing was wrong because in my mind nothing was wrong. I was excited to have the job. I was going to get $1,000 for designing cities for Motown Comics. I never saw a check with four figures! I was going to get a check with four figures! Everything was OK. Of course Mike was angry. He was my boss and I was getting feedback. All artists get feedback. All artists get treated like shit. That is part of the beauty of being an artist. I felt bad for the two people cringing for me, I felt bad that they didn’t realize how awesome this was. I worked for Motown Comics as an artist! I looked back at Mike and continued telling him that I had this project under control. “Don’t worry, Mike. I read really fast. I’ll get a book on perspective, maybe two, and I’ll do new drawings.” Mike screamed, “Bitch, get the fuck out of my office!”

“You got it!” I turned around to leave and took two steps toward the open door before a loud whizzing sound went past my head and a model of the Starship Enterprise smashed on the hallway wall in front of me. Mike had thrown it at me and missed my head by an inch–at most. “Bitch, you have one week to bring me professional fucking drawings! Don’t come back here until you know what the fuck you are doing.” I smiled and waved goodbye. “Awesome! One week. You got it, Mike.”

I went to the Strand and got two books on perspective and didn’t sleep for more than one hour a night. My boyfriend who quit his job for “no reason” the day I got my “big break” at Motown started laying  on the floor at the foot of my drafting table and wouldn’t move, because he was worried I was going to leave him now that my dreams were coming true. I moved out to finish the drawings at my hoarder mom’s apartment in the projects. One week later I went back to see Mike at the Motown Comics offices.


“This is better. Much better. I like this shit. Good job.” He handed me a check for $1,000.


Then I went back home to my boyfriend, stopped going to the Motown offices to avoid relationship drama at home and spent the money I made on Bartending school.


A few years later, in 1996 when I was single for a minute, I decided to try to become a cartoonist again. But I needed a new job. I needed more money to print my own comics and go to San Diego Comic Con. I walked into a bar on St. Mark’s place that had live music every night called Dan Lynch. Behind the bar was one of my customers from St. Mark’s Comics and The Forbidden Planet. We didn’t even know each others’ names but I had helped him a zillion times with his comics for years. “Hi! What are you doing here?”, he asked. I told him, “I’m looking for a job.” He said “Well, you are in luck because I am the manager.” He reached under the bar and pulled out a set of keys and slid them to me. “You were always the best clerk at St. Mark’s Comics and The Forbidden Planet. You always made sure I got my books and you were always smiling and happy. You can start Sunday. You’ll need the keys to open the bar.”

My new amazingly kind boss was a blues harmonica player, originally from Detroit, Michigan. His stage name was Motor City James. Thanks to him I was able to make enough money to go to San Diego Comic Con, rent a table and promote my own mini-comics. The attention my work got at comic-con changed the direction of my life forever. I owe so much of my artistic successes and inspiration to the fighting, creative spirit of Detroit!







Happy Father’s Day

“Beautiful is the man who leaves a legacy that of shared love and life. It is he who transfers meaning, assigns significance and conveys in his loving touch the fine art and gentle shaping of a life. This man shall be called, Father.”  – Stella Payton

Have a wonderful Father’s Day, to my hero 🙂

Your devotion to your daughters is a glorious guiding light in this world. I hope you can spend today enjoying your family and your sweetest memories together, while making new ones that you will all treasure forever.