In Which We Mess About With A Pencil

As every parent knows, making your daughter into a cartoon character is an enterprise fraught with peril. Sooner or later she is bound to discover what you’ve been up to, and things will come home to roost and other things will hit fans and very likely books will be written that you will not want to read, but your friends will tell you the worst parts of anyway. Nevertheless, this is what I’m doing, and may God have mercy on my soul. I can only plead that I meant well.

So, in my copious spare time (I say, I say, I say, boy, I say, that’s a joke, son) over the last week or so I have been putting my hand to this delicate task. I have been out of the art game for a long time, and out of the comix game even longer, and the hand in question is rustier than barbed wire at the beach, so the results have been, shall we say, uneven. However, it seems to me that a blog is, by nature, a work in progress, and how much more so when it is about a work in progress, or, to be annoyingly meta, about a work in progress about a work in progress. So, I will begin to inflict my process, such as it is, on an unsuspecting public.

Below find a quick pencil of Daffodil in her Pooka stage. It does not, of course, look anything like the poor dear, except for the hair-do and the expression. It is, after all, a cartoon, not a portrait. In making a cartoon character, the hair-do is usually thought of as a key element of identification. Daffodil’s coiffure, while undergoing many changes of style, can generally be recognized by its resemblance to a coastal village struck simultaneously by a hurricane, an earthquake and a tsunami. This is probably All My Fault, but her hair always escapes every attempt at containment I try.


Daffodil has very mobile features and a flair for the dramatic. I wish I could tell you what the expression means, but, as a person who has been accused of having Asperger’s Syndrome on more than one occasion, the best I can do is to draw what I see and let you sort it out.

I’m having a certain amount of technical trouble, btw, with putting images where I’d like them to be. I imagine I’ll sort it out eventually, in the mean time, patience…


Welcome to Monsters And Daffodils

Monsters And Daffodils

Welcome to Monsters And Daffodils. I hope you won’t be too disappointed when you discover, as you are just about to, that there is only one Monster, and only one Daffodil, and that they are one and the same person, the Artist Formerly Known as The Pooka, or sometimes Mirazilla, and even Rocket Girl, though the latter not to the general public. The person in question being my youngest daughter, and we having been thrown together by Fate for most of the waking and, to the extent they existed, non-waking hours of her young life, I have been her Boswell as much as time and incipient Alzheimer’s permits. Her friends and admirers on Facebook have been encouraging me to share her doings with a wider audience, and this blog is the first step in that direction. They are also demanding a book, and so this blog will chronicle the progress of that endeavor as well.

As has already been indicated, Daffodil (her current cognomen) has gone through a lot of changes, and my style and approach to recording this has been evolving as well, so as I include items from the past, don’t be surprised if their presentation is quite different than more recent offerings. I am, too, in the process of developing these purely textual snippets into an illustrated format, so some changes to the original presentation may take place for that reason. Rest assured, however, that every utterance and action is recorded verbatim, because, well, you can’t make this shit up. However hyperbolic my prose may occasionally be, what is described is Truth.

As for the blog’s name, just moments ago I was set on calling it Daffodil Soup, soup being a metaphor for tasty mixtures of various elements, but a quick Google search informed me that daffodil soup is poisonous (which only encouraged me) and that there are restaurants by that name (which disturbed me) and that there is already a blog by that name, which seems to be the work of a foodie. This last item put me off the name. “Daffodil Melange” is just too highbrow, and “Daffodil Potpourri” is too twee, so we have Monsters And Daffodils because nobody else seems to have put those together, and I don’t have all day here. We must get this show on the road.