Panel @ San Diego Comic Con (SDCC)

Panel @ San Diego Comic Con (SDCC)

Sandbox by Yuichi Yokoyama (Mini Kus! #134)

Sandbox reads right to left in the Japanese tradition, which will be a welcome printing adjustment for any comic book readers who enjoy manga. I think this is the first time I recall Kus! publishing a book in this format, which is a nice touch. Visually, Yokoyama’s work is stunning, with thin lines particularly in the early pages, that recede into the distant vanishing point on the horizon. I also really love the way some text and sound effects are drawn into the art itself, and not overlaid later with lettering. I enjoyed the different helmets or head shapes of the characters, which seem to recollect our different human forms. The characters travel through a couple different vignettes in sandy mountainous terrain, or some near the sea, and they’re obtuse struggles with walking on sand, and parsing the meaning of figures and noises along the way. For me, it was a metaphor for the journey of life, an effective reminder that we’re all on different pathways, and are presented with choices, how we interact with our surroundings, when we stay or leave a given situation or environment, some of those choices resonating with significance, and some being inconsequential non-sequiturs. Usually, with international work, there can be something “lost in translation,” but with Sandbox I think the translation quirks actually enhance the work thematically, underscoring the challenge with discerning meaning in what we encounter on our grand journey.

Perfect Love by Giovanna Fabi (Mini Kus! #133)

Fabi uses scant few words in this story, with interesting visual framing sequences denoting dreams and imagination. The textured line patterns that overlay the art, sometimes encompassing the entire panel, seem to ebb and flow with intensity in ways that complement the character interactions. As the characters embrace, there’s a morphing spark at their touch; I think this denotes the tension between either a) two souls in love becoming one, and b) prompting the question – are we just narcissistic by nature and seeking out people like us that meet our egotistical needs in a form of relationship affinity bias? In either case, Perfect Love comes at us with an ironic title that feels like a deliberate misnomer. It asks many questions. Is love is actually fleeting, is the chase just an elaborate trap, does the other person entice and keep us, or do we ultimately keep ourselves in situations by seeing and being drawn to reflections of ourselves in other people’s stories? Perfect Love is challenging, perhaps best epitomized by the ritual collaring toward the end. This process and those who know its symbolism must interrogate the story and the questions it begs. Which character POV is real, and which character POV is a dream state, which is dominant and which is submissive, or can they be fluid when we all feel that we’re the main character in our own story, and we inherently refute the notion that we’re merely a side character in another person’s story? 

The Big Spill by Janne Marie Dauer (Mini Kus! #132)

The insidious secrets of “Big Candy” revealed! The framing sequence of the story being told as a tell-all confessional in a mockumentary style is ingenious. The narrative chronicles the main character’s time surreptitiously disposing of industrial excess, which ultimately risks leading to a sugary environmental catastrophe with mutant gummies as the unintended consequence. Thanks to corporate espionage cover-ups and effective spin control in the media, the protagonist embarks on a burgeoning career in “special projects” as her efforts quickly become thought of more as public art installations than diversion of toxic waste. Dauer wisely provides a blurry pixelated effect to recall the past, show dreary monotony, or anonymize the whistleblower, and then moves to more crisp colors and distinct lines to show the action clearly. This was a fun romp that hyper exaggerates ideas to an extreme in order to prove its underlying points.

Animal Denial by Emilie Gleason (Mini Kus! #131)

Emilie Gleason utilizes amusing figure designs with inky lines and a fun color palette, which really makes the characters pop in the foreground against the more muted, representational, near-monochromatic backgrounds. The protagonist is in search of meat dishes amid a sea of vegetarian options, to the point of absurd fun, like biting a dog who promptly bites back. The traveler encounters other people who lay down factoids that either support meat-eating throughout human history, or present compelling counter-arguments, all of which reveal confirmation bias when we seek out only facts that support our preconceived conclusion. This is a smart narrative move that portrays the (ill)logic of arguments on both sides of the conundrum. Despite the importance of the topic, Gleason maintains the funny, with an almost manic gleeful tour of food-sourcing, despite the horrid conditions present. It’s a far-reaching examination of why multiple streams of consumption are problematic. I enjoyed the cultural observation that it’s easy to be vegetarian and enjoy flavorful, balanced meals when you’re a rich celebrity with the resources to do so. I was also struck by how much story Gleason was able to squeeze into the relatively diminutive package, with up to 7 panels per page and plenty of dialogue in this small size. It really feels like a full feature-length read. The end notes are appropriately inconclusive, with the hope that people will not continue to live in “happy denial,” ignorant of the facts (willfully or otherwise), and that once exposed to the reality they may change their consumer habits. But people also simply want what they want and typically operate from a place of doing things primarily for themselves. Animal Denial has the rare ability to both entertain and educate in a visually engaging manner, and that’s exactly what true art is supposed to do, making it one of the best books of 2025.

A Box of Candy by etchingroom1 (Mini Kus! #130)

A Box of Candy examines the roller-coaster of emotions we can experience as love captures us, evolves, fades, aches, and hopefully recurs (as the small glimmer of hope at the end would suggest). What I appreciated the most about this work was the verisimilitude of being handmade. The art is rendered in a way that suggests the effects of things like letters being cut out, replacements being taped back in, crayon or chalk-like textures to the colors, collage, or even light decoupage, along with interesting line perspectives and camera placements that give the narrative a very personal, almost voyeuristic touch. I guess love is akin to a box of candy; it can be sweet, but not always ultimately fulfilling. Like an infamous man once said to the delight of millions when consuming a box of sweets, “you never know what you’re going to get.”

Fire Rabbit by Yuma Wang (Mini Kus! #129)

Yuma Wang’s work initially seems like it might be aimed at children purely aesthetically, but it’s actually a very challenging story full of heady concepts and imagery despite the shaky and uneven line weights. Fire Rabbit is full of rough-hewn art using pastels that function with few words. At times, it felt almost like a rudimentary X-Men riff, with a young semi-anthropomorphized girl manifesting “fire hands.” It seems she has lived with this affliction her whole life; occasionally the ability is useful (thawing another frozen girl that she finds, or even thwarting a sexual assault in progress), but it also causes her to have to travel with buckets of water to perpetually cool her hands, and require assistance to perform basic daily activities like feeding herself. Wang’s work seems to question to what degree her abilities are a gift or a curse. It’s a very worthy concept to examine, and I admit to being quite saddened by the end; an accident causes her to inadvertently immolate herself, and nobody comes to her aid, highlighting the missing hero complex in our society. This is a very intricate idea told in an atypical way; we’re all standing around waiting for someone else to jump in and do something to help, to better our fellow travelers, and to better society as a whole.

Silent Observations by Apolonija Lucic (Mini Kus! #128)

The art in Silent Observations is staggeringly beautiful, full of modern impressionistic colors and textures that range from vibrant reds to serene greens, emotional blacks, and somber blues. Apolonija Lucic offers not so much a traditional linear comic book narrative, but a sequence of static images with free floating text. The abstract nature of the work encourages the reader to linger longer and absorb the images to parse their meaning. To study the petals, sand, shells, or sky. To experience the mood. Reading this book reminded me of my time as an executive at a contemporary art museum, where one of the curators encouraged visitors to stay with pieces longer, to really see their details, and gauge their inner emotional reactions. Some of the text similarly encourages readers to appreciate the small moments of just being. Encouraging people to observe and experience details, not simply race through life with a collector’s mentality, to pause, linger, and find the small joys is some of the best life advice ever. We are so busy either documenting, or just surviving, our modern lives that we often forget to be fully present and actually experience them.

Swelling by Walker Tate (Mini Kus! #127)

I read Swelling as a sort of parable or cautionary tale regarding the type of eco-terrorism that mankind inflicts on the planet. An outdoorsman, Terry, is on a hiking/camping excursion and is attached by insects. The procession of mosquitos invading his tent seems to imply that it’s a coordinated attack that’s an intentional assault by Mother Nature. I immediately wondered if Earth is fighting back against man, some kind of retribution for the scarring we inflict on the natural world. The way that Terry’s insect wounds descend into body horror seems to mirror the irrevocable change that humans have done to our environment; when we look to science or other unnatural remedies, the denouement of the story suggests that there are hidden risks. From page one, Walker Tate’s clean lines and subdued color palette of Earth tones make for a very engaging and readable experience.

Interview @ Instagram Live

Panel @ WonderCon

California, Inc. Signing @ Comickaze

On the Honeylands of Mars by Matti Hagelberg (Mini Kus! #126)

I admit I kind of lost the thread at times with On The Honeylands of Mars, unable to parse the narrative thread of what was happening, to whom, and why, not aided by some of the rudimentary maps and infographics. At times, I think the translation shows through in the dialogue as well, with syntax that sounds a little reversed and may push readers out as a glitchy distraction, things like: “And what do you know, at that very moment starts his phone ringing.” Those quibbles aside, I enjoyed the lonely look at leadership and the introductory infographic immediately brought to mind the heady opening credits of sci-fi series The Expanse. The colors also really pop, particularly some of the burnt oranges and deep yellows in the panels with a cross-hatching grid-like effect over shots of the more realistic looking figures.

Into The Thicket by Mark Antonius Puhkan (Mini Kus! #125)

Puhkan’s art immediately brought to mind the black-and-white work of Charles Burns and his bold thick confident line weight, with a dash of the fine line details and wide-eyed photo-realism of a practitioner like Gary Frank. The total artistic package on display here is so pleasing to the eye. In fact, it wasn’t until my second reading of the book that I even noticed there’s no words or dialogue, a testament to Puhkan’s panel-to-panel storytelling ability and engaging style. The protagonist appears to be searching for something as he delves deeper Into The Thicket, perhaps something lost, something essential, something missing, echoing man’s inextricable connection to Mother Nature. Thematically, I think Puhkan is playing with the idea that as we follow our own creations, paths, and social advancements, it may be to our ruin, and that may or may not be inevitable. If that’s the case in life, we can either choose to believe in our fears, which are of our own making, or reject them in favor of eternal hope springing forth.