&

March 24th, 2020

The word “duly” means importantly.

And I think it’s important that we remember or realize that people are made up of “and”s.

Not blacks and whites and “or”s, but a spectrum of color, and the grays that exist between them.

I spent a lot of time thinking about this post. I want it to be intentional and meaningful. But you just reading it will suffice, because I can’t change anybody’s mind.

The reason I say a person is a collection of “and”s is because people are complex. You are not one thing or another; conversely, you being one thing does not automatically make you not another.

For example: I like ice cream AND candy.

You might find this a ridiculous thing to point out, because why would one ever be exclusive to another? I use this simple base of an example because I’m going to turn it up to 11 real quick.

Michael Jackson (allegedly) sexually abused young children AND he was an entertainer who brought pure joy to billions around the world.

Kobe Bryant is a(n) (alleged) rapist AND he was an inspiration to generations of people of every kind, regardless of specific interests or boundaries.

You see what I’m saying?

One doesn’t change the other. They are “and”s. Both exist concurrently, and though one can affect and change the other, they will never make either fact less true.

We very much live in a #cancel society; to that point, there are people who absolutely deserve the severe repercussions of their behavior, and sometimes that involves their livelihoods and social influence.

But what are we doing when we try to cancel a life? Are we delivering a kind of true justice that the law could never satisfactorily accomplish? Are we microwave-evolving a society that moves too slowly and too softly in its judgements, using our swift blades of harsh truth to cut through the bullshit of a system? Are we burying the fact that there are things we have all done that we are not proud of, but can morally rationalize those away in the name of good intentions?

I don’t know. No answers here. I’m just as confused as most people are most of the time.

But I’m not confused about the duel nature of people. I think that you can be smart AND dumb, pretty AND ugly, sweet AND hurtful, kind AND cruel, caring AND cold — and I think you can be all those things in one day.

But mostly, I think we can be upset — sad, angry, empty — AND full of forgiveness. We can recognize that both parts of anything always make a whole, and that the whole rarely ever needs to be thrown out.

We can learn, and we can be cautious, but we have to keep remembering that we are made up of “and”s — and that is the most human thing.

Thank You.

March 17th, 2020

Weird world.

I was waiting until I could write something thoughtful and meaningful about everything that has happened over the last few days, and then I realized that waiting for anything is stupid, so here we are.

First of all: thank you. I say thank you a lot, and I mean it every time, but this time is special.

Believing in yourself is hard. Believing in others is both easy and magic.

It’s easy because you don’t know what’s inside of others. You don’t know how insecure they are. How stressed out they can regularly be. How anxious they are or about much they doubt themselves and fear being exposed as a creative imposter. You just know what you see, hear and feel. And you believe.

It’s magic because the act of believing inspires others to do so, too. Even in the person who’s being believed in.

I started creating the characters of The Weirdos when I was in a dark place. They were like a fun house of who I was, am and aspire to be; none of them are me, but all of them are a singular reflection of me in a room full of mirrors.

As I worked on their stories, I worked on me. Fun fact: I wrote about Ashley (The Flying Squirrel, the closest character to me) getting sober before I ever even considered it. I wore these fiction suits as necessity and used them as compasses to navigate who I wanted to be.

They mean a lot to me. Some days, doing this — creating art to share with people — feels impossible. Some days I don’t know if I can do it.

And then I get a message. Or someone makes a comment. Or, over the last few months, someone would make a donation. And it would say: “This means something to me, too.”

And it’s not the reason for my fire. But it is often a match for when I’m cold.

So, thank you for helping me raise $1,785, well over the $1,500 I needed. I will use every cent to make the best book I can. It’s crazy; I have spent hours on every single page, and I can tell you that each one has something — a word, an image, a phrase, a color, an emotion — that can start whole conversations, or inspire ideas. That is my only guarantee, and only if you look closely enough.

The book is done, btw. I finished lettering last night, after I found out I was (drumroll, please)…unemployed. For those of you who don’t know, I am a server and bartender (I know, a bartender who doesn’t drink, a regular Sam Malone!), and yesterday, the state of Minnesota shut down all bars and restaurants in an attempt to slow down the pandemic.

In light of this, I’m even more aware and appreciative of how precious the funds I’ve received are, because I understand the financial strain of our climate very personally. Did I say thank you? Because thank you.

The book will be officially released on May 1st, 2020 (my birthday!). The release plans are secret/still being figured out because of our national situation, but you will be the first to know.

So lastly: thank you. You have no idea how much I love you all, and how much you mean to me.

I created these characters to help make me a better person. And you helped them come to life.

I can never repay you. But I will always pay our love forward.

Den

Give A F***.

March 15th, 2020

“This is a story about our struggles, and our suffering — and this is a story about how our connections to one another is the way we weather them.”

That’s the last line of my description for The Weirdos. Today is the last day you can pre-order my book or donate to the project.

I’m seeing a lot of people out here not treating each other with respect. I see a lot of people not listening to one another.

I see a lot of gloom and doom and despair.

And the way you fight that is the Weirdo Way: you stand by one another. You listen. And you carry on alongside your friends and family and even acquaintances who have the same goals, hopes and dreams. (You can do this while practicing a safe social distance.)

If this sounds like something you agree with, please consider supporting it. Your name will be on page two, making you an official Weirdo and announcing to the world that you DO give a fuck.

Please give a fuck.

It is exactly what this world needs right now.

P.S. This is a sticker sheet that comes with one of the donation tiers and it is my favorite thing today. It is so cute.

We Did It.

March 14th, 2020

WE DID IT. ❤

(I am celebrating and dancing and screaming in my head, and I’ll have so much stuff to say later, but we still have work to do!)

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW: You can still donate! PLEASE still donate, if you can. In fact, the only way I can promise you a first-printing book is if you pre-order your copy right now. That is your only guarantee, if you wanted to add The Weirdos graphic novel to your summer reading list this year.

DID YOU KNOW? When you pre-order the physical copy of The Weirdos, you get the digital copy for FREE (a $15 value!). On some of the rewards levels, there are bonus materials you won’t be able to get anywhere else (or you’ll at least get FIRST)! I just ordered some of the prizes this weekend. They’re neat! (You can also add to your donation if you want to reach a new tier, or get a book!)

You have no idea how much this means to me. It was never a sure thing, and you believing (at least a little) in me makes me believe (a little) in me, too. And a little, to me, is a lot. ❤

Keep sharin’ and lovin’ —  only a little over 40 hours left!

The Final Countdown

March 12th, 2020

Voilá!

Here’s a special banner for anyone who has donated to this work and wants to proudly display it.

I ❤ my Weirdos. Which would actually make a great bumper sticker.

We are at an astonishing $1,300 out of $1,500 needed. I legitimately teared up when I saw that this afternoon. THANK YOU.

A donor has also stepped up and said they will contribute 50% of whatever we raise together this weekend! This is the LAST weekend of fundraising. Just a few days left until the Ides of March, the conclusion of this project.

I am so excited to stop talking about funding, and getting back to everything else. You all have been so amazing, and supportive, and your shares, comments and messages have been keepin’ me and this dream alive.

Don’t stop. Can’t stop. All my love.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/dennisvogen/lets-bring-the-weirdos-to-life

This Is Your Book

March 11th, 2020

This is your book, in a very unique way.

In the way that this book will be for the people who have already discovered it.

And that’s you.

Very rarely in life do you have a chance to not only say, “I knew about [this thing] before anybody else,” but get to say, “I supported [this thing] before anybody else, and I actually was one of the reasons it got made at all. I was a part of the process.”

This is your book, in a really special way.

People will discover it after you, and BECAUSE of you, as it will only exist because of you.

You get to be a publisher. You get to have your name printed on a page of something you hopefully believe in, because the book itself is about hope.

This is your book.

We’re at almost $1,000 with less than FOUR days to go. Every cent is felt and appreciated.

Let’s keep pumping our blood in [this thing]

.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/dennisvogen/lets-bring-the-weirdos-to-life

Look

March 10th, 2020

When you’re gripped by a dark thing, common wisdom dictates that you should take a look in the mirror.

Stare into the eyes of who you are and what you’ve become to reach an mutual understanding.

For me, the recognition and clarity never came through a mirror. It comes through photographs. Pictures of myself as taken through my shadows.

God, they are awful. I hate looking at any photo of myself from before a few years ago. I’ve mostly stopped looking at memories on social media for that insecure reason.

But something neat happened today.

I was in our bathroom, and there’s a photo of our family hanging on the wall. I accidently made eye contact with myself and my skeleton asked permission to leave my body. I quickly turned away, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, the way I am now.

It was like discovering a time machine. Like experiencing a microsecond miracle.

My reflection was looking at me who was also looking at a me, but a very different me.

Past me had no idea that one day I was going to be me now, and I was going to be looking at him in this moment in his life. And that it would make me now feel a whole spectrum of emotions when I did.

I agree with common wisdom. I think we all need to look at ourselves in the mirror with regularity and acute attention.

But if you’re like myself and just can’t do it most days, start with a photograph.

And let time do its thing: to either heal you, or warn you.

I Heart Tomicon

February 29th, 2020

Tomicon, the convention I attended today alongside some of my favorite people, was low-key one of the best conventions I’ve been a part of. And that’s not hyperbole or an exaggeration; allow me to explain why.

Immediately, Hastings is a splash of cold, stunning water when you arrive. It’s the kind of dream small town you think only exists in fiction, and it’s barely twenty minutes away from the south suburbs. Railway Gallery, a cozy, serene new art space in the downtown area, shares a backyard with beautiful bridges, passing trains and the Mississippi freaking River.

And that’s just hello.

If you’ve been to a lot of conventions, as a creator, a vendor, a guest or an attendee, you’re used to big, impersonal spaces. Cold convention structures, gymnasiums and recreation centers are regular meeting spaces. It’s… fine.

Having a comic convention in an art gallery was one of the most brilliant ideas I got to see unfold firsthand. It set a completely different vibe, and it set the standard that comics and its artists belong there. Because we do. We all do. Comic art is my absolute favorite medium, and it is visual, and visceral, and literature, and it belongs in a gallery. And we were there, and I couldn’t have appreciated that more.

Which brings me to the attendees, whom I also appreciate more. I saw some of my favorite people today, new and old, and I had some electrifying and life-affirming conversations. And I feel like the energy the gallery had was shared all around, and it led to a convention unlike any other I’ve been to.

If you attended: THANK YOU. From the bottom and top of my heart. If you’re a new fan just finding your way to these parts: it was so good to see you today, and welcome. You’re part of the Weirdos now.

I hope this fantastic energy continues throughout 2020 — and I’ll see you all at SpringCon. ❤

(And a special, special thanks to Tom Nguyen and his team for putting together such an amazing event!)

Help! Plus: Updates & Appearances

February 27th, 2020

Howdy, peeps.

So, when trying to raise funds for anything, the beginning and the end are usually the easiest. People either want to be the first to support you, or they want to help you complete your goal.

The middle, as Jimmy Eat World knows, takes some time.

Not only am I completely stalled right now, but I actually lost $100 earlier this week (from a donor who I don’t know personally, but still).

So: if you have a moment and have wanted to pre-order your own Collector’s Edition, or just support the dream, now is totally the time. I mean, what a way to kick off the weekend!

And speaking of this weekend: I’ll be at my first convention of 2020! You can come hang out with me and a ton of local creators at Tomicon in Hastings, from 11 am to 5 pm. I’ll be talking about the upcoming graphic novel, maybe spilling some details about what I’m doing next… but you won’t know until you come say hello!

And if you missed it, Twin Cities Geek posted a wonderfully sweet review of The Weirdos, which is also informative if you’re wondering what this whole thing is about: http://twincitiesgeek.com/2020/02/superheroes-team-up-through-therapy-in-the-weirdos/

Like Knope and Wyatt, I love you all & I like you. Hope to see some of you soon, and please consider being a part of my publishing team by donating to my art.

❤

KICKSTARTER:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/dennisvogen/lets-bring-the-weirdos-to-life

TOMICON: Railway Gallery. Hastings, MN. 11 am to 5 pm.

TWIN CITIES GEEK REVIEW:

http://twincitiesgeek.com/2020/02/superheroes-team-up-through-therapy-in-the-weirdos/

Home & Garden

February 19th, 2020

The other night over dinner, we were having a conversation that led into how I uncomfortably deal with specific kinds of attention.

It’s something that I have thought about for years, but had never really put into words until now.

When I quit drinking in 2017, I quickly lost somewhere between twenty to thirty pounds. I’ve never been an especially overweight person, but when people would comment on my appearance (and still do), I understand that I give off the impression that I’m uncomfortable or, inexplicably, offended.

I’m neither, really. And this is how I really feel.

Imagine that you rebuilt your house. You finally admitted that it was falling apart, and you took the time and did the work to remake it from the ground up. You opened doors you hadn’t touched in decades, you put the things you didn’t need in boxes or threw them out completely, and you repainted the walls and framed the key memories that made you who you are. You secured your foundation, constructed new stairways and added floors over floors to what used to be.

You are very proud of this home. This place that you thought was going to be condemned.

A friend comes over to see. And she walks up to your house and she says something completely unexpected:

“What a nice lawn!”

You’re flabbergasted. You didn’t build this lawn. It’s just part of the house, and though you do water and take care of it, it’s the house that you put all your work into. You want people to see the house, your heart, this home.

I guess that’s what it feels like to me. And I realize now that it is — like I always tell everybody else — about expectations.

Some people are very proud of their lawns; there is something admirable and special in that, too. Growth of any kind embodies beauty. And if a person appreciates my lawn, then I, too, should see that for the courtesy and respect that represents.

Inevitably, my gratitude is often expressed with my most abundant currency: cold, crisp awkwardness.

I’m working on that.

But I hope this distillation helps. I hope it helps you explain how you just wish people could see your house. Or how you’re just a huge lawn nerd, and when you gush about the grass, it isn’t an oversight on someone’s home; it’s a celebration of their good soil and how proud you are of the abundance of beauty that grows around them.

Because, in the end, the only person who has to live there is you. And if you can be proud of the place you built, then who cares about how anybody appreciates the rest? 