A note on comic books, art, and conventions.
This weekend at Amazing Las Vegas Con I had a chance to connect with people and really see what comic books mean to people. And also see how the gift of art can bring someone to tears.
To often we look at all things “comic book” as a current media and pop culture juggernaut that pours into our lives whether we want it to or not. Movies are always being promoted, toys are always asked for by our kids and collectibles and art are always sold for their newly minted fetish value.
But this weekend with out any agenda or second thought I had people share stories about how comics gave them strength or relief or escape when they needed it most.
I spoke to a Vet that told me he suffers from PTSD and without out comics he knows he wouldn’t be able to deal with it on his own. His wife looking at him lovingly, nodding in agreement as she put her hand on his shoulder.
I heard from another on how as a child comics offered escape from an alcoholic father. And that even if heroes didn’t exist in his home they did on the page. A goal to shoot for in his own life, to be a hero to at least one person no matter how small the occasion.
And finally, that a piece of art could make someone so happy. Happy to the point of disbelief. That a piece exchanged between friend would lead to joy and the comment, “No one has ever given me anything this nice.”
All this at a comic convention.
By now it’s safe to say that the strength, escape, and relief (along with a few tears) are all mine as well. I’m grateful to have had this experience and look forward to many more.
M.
