City gardening illustration by David Small
seen from Canada

seen from Germany
seen from China

seen from Australia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Greece
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Philippines
seen from United States
seen from Philippines

seen from Russia

seen from Australia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Australia
City gardening illustration by David Small
Chronic Pain and Body Horror
I think one of the reasons I like reading body horror comics so much is because it appeals to the way I view my body, as someone with chronic pain. Some days it feels like my enemy; a monster I am forced to coincide with for my survival. Some days I feel one with my body and I love myself wholly. Most days I struggle between both.
Years ago, I started journaling/doodling my thoughts on my chronic pain as it's ramped up over time. A lot of the time the doodles did tend towards body horror, not that I knew it at the time. That was the only language I had to describe how I felt. One of the first times it really hit home for me how closely the two were connected was when I read Stitches by David Small. It's a messy, black and white, charcoal-y horror show about what it feels like to be both physically and emotionally silenced as a child. It's about how it feels to be visibly disabled, and how it feels to feel like a monster. I saw myself so clearly in that book, and it hurt, but in a good way. Like when you've just lost a tooth and you probe the sore gum with your tongue. It's a painful pressure, but it's also a relieving pressure. It hurts, and it heals.
For so long I was at odds with myself. I was angry. I was betrayed. The body should be the one thing you can count on, the thing that makes up 'you', that's been there from the jump. Why should my body fail at this? Why should I suffer? What is the point? It took a long time, and some very helpful grief counseling, to find the answer. Part of that is grieving the body you had Before. There is a Before and an After for me. Before I was diagnosed it was all in my head, but I was able-bodied and had the whole world and endless possibilities open to me. After was the fact that my pain is real, that it exists, and that it limits me. An infinite hallway of doors of possibilities swung shut all at once with a sickening thud. I was left alone in a dark, empty place of Nothing. But that hallway was, in fact, built for the body from Before. I had to build my own hallway of possibilities for the body of After. And I have!! I am alive. My life is wonderful. It is filled with highs and lows and it is not defined by my illness or my pain. I am not defined by my illness or my pain. Has it sculpted much of who I am now? Yes, very much so. Has it brought me incredible opportunities I never would have dreamed of? One hundred percent! Has it also felt like a constant betrayal and a visceral nightmare? Yeah.
Right now I'm reading the current Poison Ivy run, written by G. Willow Wilson, and the feeling is so similar. Pamela literally tears herself apart constantly. She fights herself, she falls apart, she heals, and she is visceral. Artist Marcio Takara is what really takes it home for me. His approach to the physicality of a body made to fail, heal, fail again, sprout new life, die... I feel right at home with it. It's a beautiful, technicolor nightmare... it's gross, and it's wonderful.
I leave you with both a list of other fantastic body horror, and a diary sketch from 2017.
I Built a Body
Lonely Receiver
Something is Killing the Children
Beetle Hands
Pretty much anything by Emily Carroll
Happy birthday to David Small!
I read The Underneath by Kathi Appelt when I was a small child, don't remember how old, and it nestled itself into the roots of my psyche like a jar filled with coiled influence. I vaguely remembered the characters, the romance, the jealous grandmother, I remembered the mother cat and the old dog, and I remembered there being an alligator and a snake and a hawk.
What I didn't remember was how deeply the tone of the writing had ingrained itself in my mind. I also didn't remember the fates of all the characters. I just finished rereading it and crying, and I want so badly to be a writer like this.
A series of scenes from an unfinished story that I posted online a few years back was clearly influenced by The Underneath, but I had no earthly idea. I didn't remember where that part of me had come from. It's been a quiet influence.
It's... a very good book.
I feel so emotional right now. Holy shit.
Do you know this Jewish character?
David Small from the Rabbi Small series (books)
I know them
I've heard of them
I don't know them
I know them but didn't know they were Jewish
Stitches: A Memoir by David Small 5/5 ⭐️
I have been meaning to read this graphic novel for a while. I was really blown away by the storytelling and the illustrations that Small created for his memoir. He dives into deep, personal moments of his upbringing that show a great deal of resilience and strength to overcome. The illustrations were so well detailed and his drawing style is so unique. Anyone interested in exploring graphic novels outside of comic books/manga should really check out Stitches.
Stitches: una infancia muda.
David Small
Lo Spazio Bianco consiglia | Tornano i consigli de Lo Spazio Bianco per i fumetti da non perdere questa volta in uno speciale dedicato a Lucca Comics and Games 2018. Venti suggerimenti, venti titoli per le opere che più ci hanno colpito e incuriosito.