Ruthi Postow Birch's Blog
October 10, 2025
COLORFUL CARTOONS FOR FALL
There’s a cat lurking somewhere. Can you find him?
If you like this image, he’s in my shop. Check it out. https://ruthibirch.myshopify.com/products/australian-shepherds-love-fall
HALLOWEEN IS ALMOST HERE … So, look out for black cats (or any cats) with attitude.

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April 30, 2025
The Tail-Wagging Tale of a Terrier
This is the tail-wagging tale of Ali, a terrier.
Have you ever known a terrier? Then you know they are the true individualists — barking, bounding free-thinkers with their own set of rules.
If it’s there, sniff it. If it smells good, pee on it. If it’s running, chase it. If it’s human, jump on it.
If it’s a command — huh?There are no commands, suggestions maybe, but no commands.
It was a warm April afternoon and Ali, the Airedale terrier was dozing in the sun. All of a sudden, her head popped up. She sniffed all around, searching. Her tail wagged. There was definitely a smell she hadn’t notice before.
It was coming from a big black bag on the ground.
As typical in a tale of a terrier, Ali was curious.
She advanced on the bag, scratched at it, sniffed again, then pounced.There was food in there for sure. She grabbed the bag with her teeth and tugged.
“No, Ali! Stop. Ali, leave it. Ali, no,” cried the woman who owns her. Ali didn’t stop — tenacity and resolute determination are also terrier qualities.
Ali was pulled awayThe woman grabbed Ali’s collar and dragged her away, shouting, “No. Leave it.” And she pointed at the bag for emphases.
Ali gave the woman a dirty look (yes, terriers have unmistakable drop-dead dirty expressions) and wrenched away from her. In seconds she was back at the bag.
The woman gave up on stopping the terrier. She grabbed the bag and moved it to a table. But Ali wasn’t tricked by that.
It was a floor bag!Ali knew this wasn’t a table bag. It was a floor bag, and as every dog will tell you, “If it’s on the floor, it’s mine.”
In a flash, Ali was up on the table. And with this began the madcap comedy scene – a frenzied Keystone Cops chase. Around the table they ran — with the woman chasing, lurching for, grabbing at, and missing the faster, slippery dog again and again.
Finally, by pure luck the woman hooked Ali’s collar. And the woman and dog went home.
The end. Oh, no, it wasn’t.As long as any smelly black bags exist in the world, it will never be over for Ali or any other free-thinking true barking individualist terrier – like these.
Like pet stories and cartoons? Follow me on Instagram. https://www.instagram.com/ruthipostowbirch/?__pwa=1
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April 13, 2025
Terriers — Funny, feisty & Wonderful
Troublemakers, stubborn, feisty, relentless, messy, exuberant, exhausting, funny and adoring — just a few words that sum up why I love terriers.
Daring Showstoppers —Terriers are the comics, the daredevil, the entertainers of the dog world. They dazzle — and terrify — with jaw-dropping feats of daring as they throw their whole bodies into the joyful pursuit of … whatever they want at the moment. As proof of that, I offer Mr. Magoo, my soft coated wheaten terrier.
Most any nice afternoon you can find us in the garden. I’m at the table trying to get a cartoon drawn. Mr. Magoo is laying on the bricks in the sun, chewing a long-past-disgusting piece of bone. Every now and then he drops the bone to come over and jostle my arm, demanding, “Pay attention to me!” And in the process he ruins the almost perfect cartoon I’ve been laboring over for hours. But I pay attention as commanded.
Finally he goes back to his bone. But just then people walk past our fence and the big event starts.
“PEOPLE,” he barks. They usually jump — he doesn’t know he has the terrifying bark of a junkyard dog. He shoots to the fence, and then …
Bark. Bark louder. “Here I am. See me. See me.” Jump. Jump higher — two feet, three feet, five feet! “Look, I’m wagging my tail. And I’m jumping. Come play.”
All but the bravest people hustle on. “Wait, he calls! Stop! Come back.”
They’re gone. He does a lap through the flowers and goes back to his bone, show over. The next show will be … any time. Just come on by.
TERRIER — a Toy Come To Life
Did you ever have a stuffed toy that you wished could come to life? I did. He did, and his name is Mr. Magoo — a troublemaker who’s stubborn, relentless, messy, exuberant, exhausting, funny — and I adore him.

He’s not ON the furniture.
All Dog Breeds Bring Joy – Can You Hear the Music?I believe all dogs are a joy. Whenever I see a dog jumping and frolicking, the Ode to Joy, Beethoven’s 9th symphany pops into my head.


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January 24, 2025
Fads and Fashions We Lived
If you’d like to revisit your carefree youth, search the web for “fads and fashions” of whatever decade you choose and go down the rabbit hole into your past. Every decade had its own crazes. They exploded on the scene. We bought them. They flamed out. Remember pet rocks? Supermodels? Boomboxes? Pogs? Love beads and lava lamps? Rollerblades? The 8-Ball jacket?
The Fads and Fashions We Wore
What was your favorite craze? Go-go boots? The ubiquitous white disco suit? Hotpants? Psychedelic colors or mod anything?
Mine was a Bob Mackie bomber jacket.
Hippie Chic — Suede, Feathers and Fringe
Flower power and love beads! You didn’t have to be a hippie to be caught up in the vibe. I never got the fringed suede boots I yearned for, but I did have a skirt made from quilt squares — I looked groovy.
Peasant blouses, suede, fringe, psychedelic colors, and flowers in our hair. What wasn’t to love?
Fads and Fashions for Colorful Accident Victims
Free love and peace gave way to neon eyeshadow and mini babydoll dresses. And with those vivid scarves tied around our heads, we looked like colorful accident victims.
Platform Shoes — The Fashion Craze that Won’t Stay Down
We love putting our feet on stage or how do you explain the repeated revival of platforms shoes, platform sneakers, platform sandals, even platform flipflops.
But did any regular person ever really wear fish platforms?
Yeah. I was cool.
The Disco Decade — Fads for Fashionable Guys
The 70s was the coolest decade for men’s fashion. Not since the eighteenth century had men been decked out in such fabulous clothes. And glamour wasn’t just for nobles and rock stars. Everyday guys sported vivid silky shirts with shoulder-wide lapels and gold chains.
And, of course, the Saturday Night Fever white suit — maybe you still have one hidden in the back of your closet.
The 90s — Power Dressing and Big Shoulders
We were glamorous. We were powerful. And we were noticed when we plopped those wide, wider, widest shoulder pads on our shoulders.
Some Inexplicable Fads and Fashions
The Nylon Track Suit & the Leisure Suit — Really? Did somebody suddenly say, “Let’s get tacky?” Yes they did and we went for it hook, line, and neon. My track suit was day-glow lime.
Twenty-first Century Fads and Fashions
In the 21st century we have new and improved (?) fads and fashions — segways, Google glasses, fidget spinners, and virtual pets. If you have a cat, think twice before you bring home a virtual pet — she won’t like it.
And be careful on that segway especially while you’re web-surfing on your Google glasses. You might fall off your break your leg. Then you won’t be able to show off the Gucci pre-ripped stockings that you paid a hundred and ninety dollars for — lucky you got yours before they sold out.
Old is New Again in Fashion Fads
Fashions fade, but they don’t die. They lay low, then sneak back in when we’re not looking. I thought the last leisure suit and last tracksuit had gone to the Smithsonian along with the pet rock, but….no.
They’re back along with penny loafers, scrunchies, suede, and fringe on everything.
Do you ever wish you could relive your carefree youth? You can. Take this image away with you: YOU, in your sizzling neon hotpants, cruising down the street on your roller blades.
THE END
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December 9, 2024
The Street Music Makers of King Street
Listen! Can you hear them? They’re the street music makers of King Street. They’re part of the charm of Old town all year, but they bring a special magic at Christmastime.
TraditionsIt’s early December, and at four o’clock, it’s already dusk. We’ve come to our main street for the Christmas lights — it’s a tradition. A thousand star-like bulbs shine from every tree and light up the storefronts that are dressed in garlands, wreaths, baubles, beads, and different colored lights.
The Street Music MakersThe street musicians are part of the tradition. They’re here, bucking the cold to conduct us on our tour — and they’re as welcome as hot chocolate on a frigid evening.
First the PercussionThe rat-a-tat-tat of a lone dancer starts us off, drumming his worn taps on a square on dance-scarred wood.
His music is just starting to fade as we reach Market Square. And there’s the grand Christmas tree! It lights the whole square, and from down here it looks taller than the City Hall steeple.
Street DrumsThere was a band concert in the square earlier — tubas played by musicians in Santa hats.
Now, it’s been replaced by the hollow thumps and thwacks made by the street drummer. He sits behind his buckets and kids circle around. One brave boy gets a lesson with the drumsticks.
And a little beagle howls — adding his own joyful music.
We leave the square and start to pick up a faint strains of a violin. At Fairfax, we see the violinist standing beside the bank and recognize one of our favorite hymns, “Oh Come All Ye Faithful.”
Further on another violinist carries forward the mood of Christmas with a new carol.
Now the brass —Where Lee Street crosses King, there’s Zach in his regular place with his saxophone.
His music is so rich and powerful that it seems to warm the air. A few steps down a xylophone player plonks out bright notes to accompany Zach’s song.
Almost at the foot of King Street, we hear the shimmering carol played by Mike on his steel drums. He sees us and stops for a hug. He pets Mr. Magoo, my dog, then returns to his drums, playing a traditional Christmas song with a Caribbean twist, and sings along in his gravelly voice.
They add a special magic to Christmastime in Old Town.
Are they all actually here on this one night in December? Maybe not — maybe just two or three of them. But they are so much a part of the street that later, when I think back about it, my memory will place them there, making music for our Christmas walk down King Street.
Have a joyful holiday season 2024.
Ruthi
Do you remember the first time you went Christmas shopping on your own as a kid? What a wonderful adventure! And we just knew that the gifts we chose were fabulous. Read about my nine-year-old adventure in “Pop Beads and Tie Tacks.” https://ruthibirch.com/pop-beads-tie-tacks-end-christmas-shopping-anxiety/
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November 1, 2024
LOVE AND LAUGHING GO TOGETHER
Love and laughing go together like milk and cookies or rhythm and blues or Xs and Os. Love can’t last without laughter because, face it, the love of your life has some really irritating quirks (and maybe you do too).
Do you remember the cartoon show Mr. Magoo, a nearsighted man who took us on madcap and perilous excursions? Well, I married him.
My husband, like Mr. Magoo, could find no end of wonderful paths to drive — if you never mind the road signs.
He delighted me at various times with scenic views from a bike path, golf cart path, and one path through an outdoor café in Paris. “Look! All those people are waving at us. Who said the French aren’t friendly?”
You had to laugh.
HER FUNNY INTERNAL CLOCK — IS HE LAUGHING YET?Is five minutes really five minutes? Maybe. Maybe not. Some people stubbornly cast time in stone. For others time is more fluid. And those opposites always seem to fall in love with each other.
How does your love’s internal clock work? How long is five minutes really?
Trust me. He’ll tell this story and laugh — someday.Driving home on a Sunday —
I need to make a quick stop at the mall. There’s a dress I had them hold and I want your opinion. It will take five minutes.
Ok. But just that one dress? The ball game starts at four.
Don’t worry — we’ll be in and out — five minutes….
(In her defense, she didn’t know the sale had started.)
Who started the rumor about men refusing to ask directions? I know a man who not only asks for directions but asks the same directions from multiple people — he never trusts the first answer.
The man with no sense of direction panics when he’s not 100% certain that he is not lost — lost meaning he hasn’t been to this place before or something has changed, or “It just doesn’t look right.”
His wife is, of course, the opposite. She can find her way anywhere and doesn’t worry if she’s lost because, “I’ll get found again.” Can the man relax and trust her? No. She’s Cassandra of the highway — correct but not believed.
So he asks any random stranger who passes for directions — no matter if the stranger speaks English or is in the middle of the street and horns are blowing.
A whine comes from the bathroom: %*$! We’re out of aspirin.
No we’re not. I just bought a new bottle. Look in the medicine cabinet.
I am looking. It’s not there.
You don’t see a brown and yellow box? Really?
Oh. You said bottle. You should have said it was in a box.
A shout from the kitchen: Where did you hide the mayo?
It’s in the door of the refrigerator where it always is.
No, it’s not there. There’s just mustard and ketchup.
Move the mustard.
Never mind. I found it.
And that’s how mayo became a private joke.
Do you remember young love — the intensity and the angst? The so-in-love high school couple rushing to be together between classes, staring into each other’s eyes with looks of anguish.
At sixteen, it felt romantic. But we’re not in high school anymore. We want love that doesn’t hurt that much. And we know love and laughter go together like milk and cookies or rhythm and blues or Xs and Os. And that laughing at our irritations or mistakes is a gift. The mistakes we don’t laugh at are the ones that haunt us.
For funny stories about some of the times I fell on my face – https://ruthibirch.com/funny-memories-funny-mistakes-from-2023/
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September 4, 2024
WHERE DO CARTOON CHARACTERS COME FROM?
Where do cartoon characters come from? Our heads. We’ve been storing up images for cartoons since we were in diapers — weird relatives, high school heartthrobs, snooty co-workers, and all the weird dates we ever had. We’re all cartoon characters just waiting for a pencil and a joke.
Who’s that cartoon character?My silliest, goofiest, and definitely most awkward characters are me.
We are our best characters because we know all the things we can make fun of — like the times we blundered, said something stupid, or tripped over our own feet. And those things are funny.
When you were a kid, did you ever have a terrific idea — that wasn’t. I did. And it brought on my worse day in the third grade. I got sent to the principal’s office just for carving my name in the school’s newly poured cement sidewalk. Wasn’t that what wet cement was for? And I never learned how they found out.
Losing my first job was sad, but losing it in the middle of my second day? Pitiful. There is a cartoon character in that story and she is desperately in need of chocolate.
And who hasn’t been that clown? If you’re going to fall on your face, the trick is to do it in style and in front of as many people as possible — like on stage in front of your whole town. Picture this — it was the night of the annual Dogwood Trail Pageant. A dozen mostly graceful seventeen year old girls were on stage for the big finale. Then, in the middle of the dance routine, crash! One of the girls fell flat on her face. And a cartoon character was born.
— when he swears we’re out of mustard because it’s hidden behind the mayo.
And when he lays down the law! We will have NO DOGS ON THE FURNITURE! EVER!
Nobody intimidates her – especially not some young whipper snapper patrolman.
A modern day city sidewalk with people rushing around, staring at their phones, and talking out loud to what looks like nobody. You can imagine her reaction.
Even better, plop her onto a nude beach.
Then the other drivers and pedestrians are the cartoon characters. And if they know what’s good for them, they’re afraid — very afraid.
The crabby neighbor — Mrs. Grey was a mean, stick-thin woman with tightly permed gray hair and a menacing frown. She hated kids.
You should be in reform school,” was the appropriate punishment for any kid who ran, skipped, laughed, or worse, drew chalk hopscotch games on the sidewalk. But now I get the last word. I conttrol what she looks like. So, Mrs. Grey. This is you…
Or maybe this…
Help! It’s a fly invasion. And I don’t mean three or four flies. I mean a hundred — or at least seven. How do they get in with every door and window closed? But there they are in her kitchen, taunting, buzzing around, touching down on food. And always just out of reach.
What can she do? Grab a rolled up newspaper and give chase. But the nasty flies are cagy. One sits still until she is right up on it, then it zips away, lands on her just-baked cake, and sneers at her.
The bottom line — Cartoon characters r US
We’re where cartoon characters come from — us and our experiences with weird relatives, crabby neighbors, all the weird dates we ever had, and our own blunders. We’re all cartoon characters just waiting for a pencil and a joke.
To read the whole story of how I was fired from my first job, go to: https://ruthibirch.com/my-first-job-frazzle-fizzle-flop/
And if you want more laughs, check out https://ruthibirch.com/life-in-the-funny-paper/
Ruthi
September 2024
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August 5, 2024
WHERE DO CARTOON CHARACTERS COME FROM?
Where do cartoon characters come from? They’re in our heads. We’ve been storing up images since we were in diapers — the weird character who lived down the street, the know-it-all kid in high school, the suck-up co-worker, and all the weird dates you ever had. They’re all cartoons just waiting for a pencil and a joke.
Is that cat your 9th grade English teacher?Yep. She’s a cartoon character. She was old — too old for the cute bows in her too-black mop of hair — maybe 50. Her cartoon almost drew itself, sitting on her desk with her legs crossed and wearing her big, cat glasses.
My Aunt Minkie was a character all right — fiery, outspoken, and fazed by nothing. She ruled the roost when she was alive and she dominates any cartoon she’s in now.
Let her react to the inventions she could never have even dreamed of — computers, iPhones, talking cars.
And what if you dropped her into modern society where people walk down the street talking out loud to what looks like nobody? And how does she react to nude beaches?
New cartoon characters came to life when people met up with Aunt Minkie — especially when she was driving her big old Hudson — which she did into her nineties. She gave me the terrified driver and the young cop who stopped her for speeding and reckless driving.
We had a crabby neighbor, Mrs. Grey. She was stick thin, had tight permed gray hair, and wore a permanent frown. She complained about everybody, but her favorite targets were kids. “I’m telling your mother,” was her mantra. We ran too fast, talked too loud, caused too much commotion. Our worst sin was drawing chalk hopscotch games on the sidewalk.
Mrs. Grey inspired so many characters. One day she’s a crotchety woman. The next day she’s a frog. Then a cat.
Who from your high school stands out in your memory? The kid who wore a ducktail, smoked cigarettes, and the teachers called a delinquent? Or the super-smart snotty girl who rolled her eyes whenever you didn’t get the right answer? Or the girl who stole your boyfriend? They’re all characters in your hands now. Get even and have fun.
Everybody had at least one schoolteacher who made life miserable. And for the less agile of us, that was likely to be a physical education teacher. Was it always ok for the PE teacher to humiliate kids for their imperfections — to motivate them, of course.
I was twelve, non-athletic and at best awkward. It didn’t take long for the cartoon of Miss Rupp as a big fat pig with sweats and whistle to form in my head — although it looked more like the wolf.
Miss Rupp insisted that we learn to do a backward roll. I was convinced that my body wasn’t built to do gymnastics, and I knew the backward roll would break my back and I’d be crippled forever. No matter how Miss Rupp chided me, mocked me, and scoffed at me, I wasn’t breaking my back for her. But her cartoon character does do a backward role — right in the mud.
The ones who tell you how you can be better.
The snarky guy, “You’d only have to lose fifteen or twenty pounds and you’d be almost pretty.

So thats where cartoon characters come from — the images we’ve been collecting since we were in diapers. They’re all cartoons just waiting for a pencil and a joke.
Ruthi
August 2024
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June 3, 2024
CARTOON TOUR OF ART MUSEUMS
Take a cartoon tour of art museums. It adds a dash of fun to viewing the works of art you love by seeing them through a cartoonist’s eyes. Look at a painting and ask the question, what’s the punchline? It’s no disrespect to the art and you might even appreciate it more.
The Birth of WHO?Take Botticelli’s beautiful Birth of Venus. The goddess has emerged from the sea and stands on a giant clamshell. But what if she was a frog? A frog is always good for a punchline.
So many different styles of art — you might wonder how the different styles would react to each other. Imagine a painting coming down from the wall to join you on your the museum tour — for example, the woman and man in Grant Wood’s American Gothic.
American Gothic takes a tour of art museums.They stop at Marcel Duchamp’s Nude Descending a Staircase. Are they shocked by it? Bewildered? Or just plain tickled? You get to write the captions.
Then onto Cezanne’s table set with fruit and a skull.
The final stop for the American Gothic pair is the gallery with Picasso’s Femme Assise Pres D’une Fenêtre and Giocometti’s Pointing Man. What do they say about them?
And your punchline?
Cartoon characters take over the tour of art museums.American Gothic has gone back to their place on the wall. As we continue our tour without them, what’s next? Maybe cartoon characters, like our cat, leap into the art, and knock out of the way the figures painted by the artist.
If you take a cat to tour an art museum it’s your own fault if the cat makes improvements — you should have known that. Morris Hirshfield’s Angora Cat doesn’t stand a chance.
Our cat knows it’s good to let them worry now and then.
Cartoons, like art, talk to us. What do you think these say to us — or about us?

So, let go and add a dash of fun to your tour of art museums. It’s no disrespect to the art and you might even gain greater appreciation if you look for the punchline. And remember — a frog is always good for a punchline.
Ruthi
To see these original works, here’s your guide to a tour of art museums.Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli — Uffizi Gallery, Florence, ItalyNude Descending a Staircase by Marcel Duchamp — Philadelphia Museum of ArtFemme Assise Pres D’une Fenêtre (Marie-Thérèse Walter) — Private collectionL’Homme au doigt (Pointing Man) by Alberto Giacometti — MOMA, New York CityAngora Cat by Morris Hirshfield — MOMA, New York CityWoman Before Aquarium by Henri Matisse — The Art Institute of ChicagoCape Cod Morning by Edward Hopper — The Smithsonian American Art MuseumPersistence of Memory by Salvador Dali — MOMA, New York CityFor more cartoons look at Life in the Funny Paper: https://lifefunscripted.com/life-in-the-funny-paper/
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May 1, 2024
How Do You Become a Cartoonist?
How do you become a cartoonist? I didn’t know. Cartoonist is not something you see on career lists. It’s not like being a college president or a deputy sheriff. There’s no application or interview process. Finally, an answer came to me — an answer so simple it seems silly. To become a cartoonist, you have to draw cartoons. Oh, and you take a big, scary leap and say it out loud.
Hello. Nice to meet you. I’m a cartoonist.
That was liberating. I’ll say it again. I’m a cartoonist — not a famous cartoonist or even one who’s known by more than family and a handful of followers on Instagram. But I am a cartoonist.
The biggest hurdle to get over if you’re going to become a cartoonist — or anything else — is can’t. You have to forget all the reasons you can’t. Get out of your head the people — including you — who told you to get serious because you can’t be a cartoonist.
Do you remember when you were a little kid? Drawing funny pictures was fun? And a new box of crayons was heaven — especially the Crayola box with 64 crayons and a built-in sharpener.
Kids are natural cartoonists. They never doubt themselves — until someone teaches them to.
My second grade teacher didn’t appreciate art at all. She only loved arithmetic tests. I don’t mind telling you the name of the person who taught me I couldn’t be a cartoonist. It was Mrs. Williams, and she was my teacher at Turnerville Elementary School in Mobile, Alabama.
I saw Mrs. Williams’ test as opportunities to become a cartoonist. Those boring rows of addition and subtraction problems needed something. Wouldn’t it be funny if raindrops were falling through them and landing on laughing flowers?
I drew the raindrops and flowers, looked at them, and thought I could do even better. I added clouds. Then, I drew a little girl holding an umbrella. But the numbers were an inspiration. I turned them into flowers! Good, huh?
Here is a reproduction of my cartoon.
(Give me a break. I was seven.)
Stop drawing this nonsense and get serious!
Mrs. Williams didn’t think my cartoon was at all good. She completely missed the humor — the irony of dry, boring numbers blossoming into flowers.
She held up my paper. “This is a mess. Arithmetic is important. You have to get set serious about it or you’ll never amount to anything!”
Even worse than not getting the joke, she banned my art. I couldn’t draw on my arithmetic tests anymore.
Finally getting to become a cartoonist —Years went by. And I did amount to something. I was a businessperson and owner of a staffing firm. Every day I went to work in a big office building — where calculators and computers did my arithmetic.
Then I retired and had time to think about what I wanted to do. And it hit me! There was one thing I always wanted to do. Now, I could do it! I could be a cartoonist.
Mrs. Williams wasn’t around anymore to stop me, so I could draw all the cartoons I wanted. And I could show them to the world. Social media was way better than having your paper stuck up on the blackboard. And the people there care about cartoons, not arithmetic tests.
Being a cartoonist was easier when we were kids.Have you noticed that cartoons don’t come as freely as when we were kids. Then, being funny was fun and it was okay to be silly. Now we’re in danger of taking ourselves too seriously. And serious isn’t fun.
The trick is to remember how we felt and get back where we would draw a funny picture and think of all sorts of things it might say — without judging them.
Try it now. Draw a cartoon. Then, write down every funny or silly thing you can think of. Or try it with this one. Here’s a cartoon of a guy going down a drain. What’s he saying?
“Goodbye cruel world?” No? How about, “I know Atlantis is down there somewhere”? Or, “I’m just joining my cartoons down the drain?”
Do famous cartoonists have trashcans?Along the way, you’ll create stacks of cartoon and lists of captions. And many will end up overflowing your trashcan.
I wonder if the great cartoonists have trashcans? They seem to draw funny every time and have hilarious lines on the tips of their tongues. Don’t worry that your tongue isn’t so quick. You’ll spend hours thinking — and don’t ever let anybody tell you thinking isn’t hard work.
I thought long and hard and lightbub! I created my amorous frog. But once the lightbulb turns on and you have what you’re sure is a winner, the next step comes — self-doubt. Stop it! Be a kid again. Be silly. Draw another cartoon.
Just do it. There’s no application or interview process. To become a cartoonist, you draw cartoons — and take the big, scary leap and say it. “I’m a cartoonist.” And keep drawing.
Ruthi Birch May 2024
For more experiences after retirement, take a look at this https://lifefunscripted.com/life-after-retirement-a-laughing-matter/
My next post will be about where cartoon characters come from.
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