Minis: Meredith Park

 Meredith Park's Long Lost Secret Sibling is what appears to be a sort of compendium of daily diary strips and other related material. She works mostly in watercolors, with an expressive, spontaneous style. Her comics are poetic and thoughtful, dwelling on spiritual concerns and working out her identity. There are a couple of pages that are particularly interesting; in one, she's drawing a plaintive cry out to god as she confronts her own inner conflicts. She literally draws herself wrestling down a bull in one sequence and is wrestling an opponent in a freestyle match in another. She even draws herself in a singlet to indicate this kind of relentlessness to be renewed and given a clean heart. Her language reminds me a bit of the poet John Donne.

That leads to a transition to a demonic other self that she explores in the next strip, a personality she cals the Ice Demon. It's everything about herself that she hates and fears, and her strips about it are both frightening and playful, just as the creature is. There's an entire page where she makes a big stand about accepting this part of herself and integrating it, only to be slashed by the demon and informed that she can't be integrated. She represents everything she wants but is afraid of. Park leaves off this story here, but it's brimming with potential for a longer work. The idea of a dark side that can't be integrated or accepted is a fascinating one, because it leaves Park with no easy answers. Or perhaps it's one thing to claim you're going to accept something about yourself and quite another to do it.

While the other strips in the book don't specifically mention this concept, they do touch on Park changing. She's not becoming a different person, but she is "opening up some windows." The implication is that perhaps this will provide enough ventilation to keep this dark side under control. A haircut she receives is a metaphor for all of this, as is the revelation that if she's going to get into a relationship again, she might be more comfortable with a woman.

There's one page that's in black and white, and it's a particular delight because she goes all-in with a thick line weight for every image. This is in contrast to her other work, which relies so heavily on color to do the work of storytelling. Her use of line there is almost a suggestion. There's a lot of interest in this 12-page mini, and it's clear that Park is still in the process of developing her voice as an artist as much as she's evolving as a person. The two processes are clearly intertwined.