FWACATA

There’s a strange pressure out there right now.

To look a certain way.To smell a certain way.To be a certain thing that maybe… isn’t you.

And somewhere along the line, that pressure turns into performance.

In this week’s Monday Motivation, we get into that uncomfortable, hilarious, and very real space between who you are… and who you think you’re supposed to be. From middle school trends to grown-up “branding,” it all starts to blur into one big question:

Are you actually becoming something… or just pretending?

Because there’s a difference.

A big one.

This episode isn’t about tearing people down—it’s about calling out the quiet lies we tell ourselves when we try to fit into molds that were never made for us. The outfits, the personas, the attitudes… the “look.” We’ve all done it. We’ve all bought into something that didn’t quite fit—and paid for it one way or another.

But here’s where it flips.

What happens when you stop?

What happens when you lean into who you actually are instead of chasing some filtered version of it?

That’s where things start getting interesting.

There’s talk about confidence—not the fake-it kind, but the real kind. The kind that doesn’t come from pretending, but from owning your reality and building from there. There’s also a little bit of tough love, a little humor, and a reminder that self-improvement is real… but it has to come from truth, not illusion.

And yeah—there’s some chaos in there too. Because life isn’t clean, and neither is growth.

If you’ve ever felt like you’re trying too hard to match something that doesn’t quite sit right, this one’s for you.

Tap in, listen through, and start your week with something honest.

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There’s a moment that hits you out of nowhere.

You’re just sitting there, minding your business, sketchbook open, doing your thing—and then someone nearby says something so loud, so confidently wrong, that it snaps you out of your own head.

Not just wrong… but performatively wrong.

Like they want to be heard. Like they want the reaction.

And that’s where this week starts.

Because what followed wasn’t just a dumb comment—it was a reminder of something deeper: people don’t always think… they react. They repeat. They perform. They chase attention instead of truth.

And sometimes, you have to slow things down and actually look at what’s being said.

Take someone like Martin Luther King Jr.—a man who risked his life to speak about equality, fairness, and unity. Not comfort. Not clicks. Not controversy. Real, dangerous, meaningful action. The kind that took time. Eleven months of sacrifice for a single boycott to work. Eleven months of discipline.

Now compare that to the kind of noise we hear today—hot takes, loud opinions, people talking at each other instead of thinking things through.

And here’s the thing:

Not everything that sounds similar is the same.

That’s the trap.

That’s the lazy thinking.sss

This episode isn’t about politics—it’s about discernment.

It’s about realizing that in a world full of noise, you’ve got to actually think.You’ve got to pause and ask:

* What is this really saying?

* Who does this help?

* Is this lifting people up—or tearing them down?

Because we live in a comfort culture.

A soft, padded, algorithm-fed world where controversy is entertainment, and thinking is optional.

And comfort? Comfort is dangerous.

Comfort is that big, soft bed you lay in, telling yourself everything’s fine… until you realize you’re stuck. Until you realize you stopped growing. Stopped questioning. Stopped seeing.

Here’s a hard truth:

People who’ve actually seen struggle—real struggle—don’t glorify chaos.

They don’t chase violence.They don’t romanticize conflict.

They want peace.

Because they understand what the alternative feels like.

Sometimes, the harshest lessons—the ones that wake you up the fastest—come from getting knocked down. Not metaphorically. Literally. Life hits you, and suddenly everything is clearer.

Food tastes different.Music sounds different.People matter more.

You don’t want noise anymore.

You want truth. You want peace.

So what’s the takeaway this week?

It’s simple, but it’s not easy:

Don’t be comfortable. Be aware.

Be critical of what you hear.Be careful of what you repeat.Be honest about what you believe—and why.

Don’t just “be woke”—that word’s been chewed up and spit out.

Be awake.

Actually awake.

Because the world doesn’t need more noise.It needs more people who think.More people who question.More people choose to be good when it’s easier to just go along.

So this week, stay sharp.

Pay attention.Think for yourself.And most of all—

Be good.

HERE IS THE FINISHED PIECE:

A version of Batman using a symbiotic alien suit called LASOMBRA. I figured if I took over Batman, I would science the fuck out of it. Hmmm, maybe one day.

TOMORROW! FUGLY premieres! So stay tuned!

If you dug this podcast and want to see more, SUBSCRIBE! You also support this, comics, art, and more with a small contribution every month, or give for the year as a founder, and get original art and comics from me! WHOO

NOTE: I uploaded the wrong video initially as I had everything in one folder in my effort to clean up and be efficient. This is what I get for being cleaned up and efficient.

It’s April.

Let that sit for a second.

We’re not easing into the year anymore—we’re deep in it. A third of it is gone. Time doesn’t slow down; it just keeps moving, whether you’re ready or not. And if you’ve been feeling like you’re grinding but not really moving forward, this one’s for you.

Because something’s been on my mind lately—through conversations with other teachers, artists, and just life in general:

We’re all operating at different levels.

Like a game. Like D&D. Like anything worth doing.

There’s:

* The beginner — learning, struggling, figuring it out

* The journeyman — practicing, experimenting, pushing forward

* The master — skilled, experienced, refined

But here’s the part people don’t always talk about:

Masters don’t just do the work—they teach it.

The Growth Loop

When you teach someone—even someone just starting out—you’re forced to go back to the basics. You have to explain things you normally do on instinct.

And that does something powerful.

It creates a loop:

* You learn

* You practice

* You teach

* You relearn

And suddenly, things click in a deeper way.

So if you feel stuck, if you feel like you’re not leveling up?

Go help someone.

Show them what you know. Walk them through your process. Even just explaining your thinking can unlock something in your own work.

Practice Alone Isn’t Enough

We hear it all the time: “Just keep practicing.”

But here’s the truth—practice without awareness can trap you.

If you’re repeating the same mistake over and over, you’re not improving. You’re just reinforcing bad habits.

Growth requires:

* Reflection

* Adjustment

* Intent

Sometimes the best thing you can do is stop and actually look at your work.

Lay it out. Study it. Be honest.

Ask yourself:

* Where did I succeed?

* Where did I fall short?

* Why did something work?

That last one matters the most.

Because once you understand why something works, you can do it again—and better.

Clarity Over Complexity

Especially in creative work, there’s a temptation to overdo everything.

You think:“This needs to be bigger, more detailed, more impressive.”

But sometimes?

It just needs to be clear.

A simple moment—two figures in shadow, a quiet exchange—can hit harder than the most detailed, overworked scene.

Clarity beats complexity.

Every time.

Growth Feels Like Friction

If you’re looking back at your old work and thinking:

“Damn… this could be better…”

That’s a good sign.

That means you’ve grown.

Yeah, it’s frustrating. It might mean going back and fixing things, redrawing, rewriting, or even scrapping entire ideas.

But that voice in your head—the one telling you something isn’t right?

That’s not failure. That’s progress.

Listen to it.

This Week’s Focus

So here’s your push for the week:

* If you feel stuck → teach someone

* If you’re grinding → check if you’re improving, not repeating

* If things feel too complex → simplify

* If you’re frustrated → good, that means you’re growing

One Sentence Wisdom

You don’t level up by doing more—you level up by doing better.

One Small Action

Take one piece of your work today and analyze it—find one thing to improve.

One Permission Slip

You’re allowed to outgrow your old work—even if it means changing it.

Now get after it.

Be sharper. Be better.

And most of all—

be good.

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The sun is back, and it’s cooking us alive. Not Miami heat—no, this is that dry El Paso blast where the shade lies to you and the second you step out, you’re in a microwave. I spent part of the week outside hammering rebar into the dirt, questioning my life choices and trying to keep my brain from melting.

And somehow, that wasn’t even the hardest part of the week.

What stuck with me wasn’t the heat—it was a classroom.

A bunch of kids. Quiet. Too quiet. Not rebellious, not chaotic… just stuck. Phones out. Eyes drifting. Existing, but not really living. And then I overhear this conversation—one kid trying to understand how another one talked to a girl. Not what he said specifically, but how he even did it.

Like it was some impossible spell.

And that hit me.

These kids aren’t afraid of failing. They’re afraid of being seen.

That’s the real monster.

Because once you’re seen, you can be judged. Rejected. Laughed at. And somewhere along the line, they decided that avoiding that pain is more important than actually living.

Here’s the problem with that:If you never risk anything… you never get anything.

I’m not saying go jump into traffic or wrestle a basket of vipers. There’s such a thing as smart risk. But talking to someone? Trying something new? Putting your work out there?

That’s not danger. That’s life.

And yeah, you might mess up.

Good.

In a year, it won’t matter.In five years, it’s a story.In ten, you barely remember.

But the things you don’t do? Those stick. Those haunt you.

I look back at my life—and yeah, I’ve been a bit of an idiot. Probably still am. But those moments? Those wild, dumb, brave decisions? That’s the gold. That’s the stuff I laugh about now.

And then you look around at adults—full-grown people—still saying:“That’s not me.”“I can’t do that.”“Not my thing.”

Who told you that?

Seriously—who decided your limits for you?

Because most of the time, it’s just you. Talking yourself out of something before it even begins.

Meanwhile, the most confident people out there? Half of them are idiots.

So what’s stopping you?

This week, I’ve got a ton on my plate—finishing FUGLY, thinking about rollout schedules, cleaning up Zombie Years, wrestling with a stubborn short story, grad school, teaching, life. It’s a lot.

But I said yes.

And maybe I’ll regret some of it.

But I’ll take that over nothing.

So here’s your Monday:

Go try something.Go risk something small.Go fuck up—just a little bit.

You’ll survive.

And you might even become someone you didn’t know you could be.

I never thought I’d be making this episode.Not this soon.

This past week—March 15th—we found out that comic creator and artist Sam Kieth passed away.

He was 63.

And yeah… that’s young. That’s too young.

And I’m not going to sit here and pretend I can talk about him in some detached, objective way. I can’t. His work didn’t just influence me—it changed my life.

Straight up.

Let me take you back.

Mid-90s. I want to say ’94, ’95.I’m in Miami, in an art magnet program. I’ve already decided I’m going to be a painter. That’s the path. Fine art. Canvas. Beret. The whole cliché.

Also—I didn’t have cable.

So I’m already cut off from a lot of stuff. And my girlfriend at the time tells me:

“Have you ever seen this show… The Maxx?”

I hadn’t.

So she records it for me. Hands me the tapes.

I go home, put it on…

…and it hit me like lightning.

I didn’t just like it. I didn’t just think it was cool.

It felt like something I had been looking for without knowing it existed.

And here’s the thing—at that point?

I was done with comics.

Burned out. Completely.

The industry was collapsing. Shops closing. My local spot—gone. Everything felt dead. I had checked out.

And then I find The Maxx again—this time in a record store, on a busted spinner rack. Bent comics, half-wrecked copies… and there it was.

I flip through it.

And I’m like—

“This is it.”

I bought it. I think I grabbed Spawn too, just out of habit.

But that was the moment.

I was back.

From there, it was everything.

Hunting comics wherever I could find them.Digging through shops across cities.Finding new voices, new styles, new ways to tell stories.

But at the center of it?

Sam Kieth.

Because what he did… it wasn’t just drawing.

It was permission.

Permission to be weird.To be messy.To mix mediums.To let the story feel like a fever dream and still hit harder than anything clean and polished.

And that changed my path.

I didn’t go to a traditional art school.

I chose sequential art. Comics.

I started making comics again.Creating characters.Building worlds.

That’s where things like Meathook started.

That whole direction?

That comes back to him.

I’ve been doing this for over 20 years now.

Publishing. Drawing. Writing. Grinding.

And yeah—financially? It’s always a fight.

But creatively?

Worth it. Every second.

And I can trace that back to one moment:

Watching The Maxx on a VHS tape in my room.

There’s this idea in stories—like a “nexus point.”One thing that, if it didn’t happen, your whole life goes a different way.

For me?

Sam Kieth was that.

And the thing that hits me now… is I never got to meet him.

All the conventions. All the years.

I met so many people I looked up to.

But not him.

And that… that stings.

From everything I’ve heard, he was a private guy. Humble. Almost dismissive of his own work.

But man—

You don’t always get to see what your work does to people.

And his?

It mattered.

It mattered to me.

It gave a 16-year-old kid direction.It showed me what comics could be.It gave me a path I’m still walking.

And yeah… it hurts knowing there won’t be more.

But I’ve also seen the outpouring. The artists. The work. The influence.

That energy?

It didn’t disappear.

It spread.

So if you’ve never read his work—

Go find it.

The Maxx.Zero Girl.Anything.

Sit with it.

Let it hit you.

Sam—

Thank you.

For the work.For the permission.For the path.

And to everyone listening—

If something moves you like that?

Follow it.

Because sometimes…

that’s the thing that changes everything.

Be good.

There’s this idea—old, almost cliché at this point—that if you want something bad enough, you can make it real.

Most people nod at that and move on.

But actually doing it?That’s where things get ugly.

This week, I’m coming off finishing the second issue of FUGGLY, pushing toward a 52-episode webcomic structure, juggling formats (web, Instagram, print), and trying to build something that actually lasts. Not just a post. Not just a moment. A body of work.

And here’s the truth nobody likes to say:

It’s slow.It’s messy.It doesn’t care about your schedule.

Some days it’s two full pages before work.Some days it’s one panel squeezed into a chaotic life.Some days it’s nothing—and you’ve got to live with that and get back on it anyway.

That’s the real difference.

Some talent. Some tools. Some AI.

Consistency. Will. Showing up.

We live in a moment where everything is supposed to be instant—press a button, get a result. And yeah, tools exist. I even use some of them. Backgrounds, textures, small assists. But the core? The storytelling? The grind?

That still belongs to you.

And there’s something uncomfortable about that.

Because it means there’s no excuse.

In this episode, I talk about:

* Building a comic system that actually works week to week

* The reality of making art while working, studying, and living life

* Why the “panel a day” mindset might be the only thing that saves your projects

* The loneliness of creating without a crew—and how to push through it

* And why willing it matters more than any shortcut ever will

By the time you stack enough pages, enough issues, enough projects… You start to see it.

Not just the work.

The proof.

That you can actually build something out of nothing.

So if you’re stuck, waiting, thinking about making something—

Stop thinking.

Start small.Do one thing.Then do it again tomorrow.

And maybe, just maybe…

It won’t be a dream anymore.

Want to own the FIST piece itself? Go to https://fwacata.bigcartel.com/product/mm-44-if-you-will-it-physical-art-piece and get it yourself!

We’ve all heard it before: “Don’t judge.”

It’s one of those phrases that sounds good on a bumper sticker. Clean. Moral. Easy to repeat.

But if you stop and think about it for more than five seconds… it falls apart.

Because judging things is literally how humans survive.

We judge traffic.We judge food.We judge situations, people, risks, smells, vibes, and that one guy in the airport walking barefoot through a plane aisle like he’s in his living room.

Judgment isn’t the problem.

The problem is what we do with it.

In this week’s podcast I dig into something we all pretend we don’t do—but absolutely do all the time. From bad airplane etiquette to scooters in the rain to the quiet moment when you ask yourself the most important question of all:

“Am I the asshole here?”

Sometimes judging someone leads to understanding.Sometimes it reveals something about yourself.And sometimes it’s just realizing that maybe the guy who looks like hell in line at Walgreens is having a worse day than you are.

So yeah—judge.

Just don’t stop there.

Think about it.Question it.And remember the three F’s that determine whether someone’s opinion really matters.

Listen to the full episode here and let’s talk about the strange balance between standards, empathy, and the quiet little judgments running through our heads every day.

Some Mondays, the motivation shows up early, bright-eyed, ready to conquer the week.

And some Mondays… it crawls in late, covered in dirt, smelling like a half-inflated air mattress and questionable camping decisions.

This week was the second kind.

Spring break has that strange effect on time where you wake up late, realize the day already started without you, and suddenly your plans involve doing something slightly ridiculous just because you can. In my case, that meant testing out some brand-new camping gear with Luna.

Which is how I found myself in a tent last night with a half-inflated mattress that turned out to be slightly too big for the tent.

So we improvised.

Half inflated. Slightly crooked. A lot of “ow, my back… ow, my knee… why did I think this was a good idea?”

But once everything settled down, it was… nice.

Just lying there for a bit. Quiet. Nothing buzzing. Nothing scrolling.

Luna, however, was not convinced.

She spent most of the time staring around like: Why are we voluntarily sitting inside a giant plastic bag? I suspect the smell of all the new gear wasn’t helping her mood.

Still, we tried it.

And that’s really the whole point of this week’s motivation.

Sometimes you just have to try things.

Try small.Try medium.Try extra large.

Sometimes the large one turns into a disaster. Sometimes the inflatable mattress doesn’t fit the tent. Sometimes your back complains about it the entire time.

But you still tried.

And that matters more than people realize.

Because as you get older, the biggest obstacle isn’t time or energy.

It’s your brain.

Your brain starts predicting outcomes. It tells you not to try things because it already thinks it knows how it will end. It becomes very good at convincing you to stay comfortable, stay safe, stay still.

You have to fight that.

Most of the regrets I have in life didn’t come from the things I tried.

They came from the things I didn’t.

Even the bad attempts had something hidden inside them—some lesson, some story, some weird little memory that sticks with you later.

Even the camping trip that makes you realize you might need a slightly smaller air mattress.

Meanwhile, life at home continues its own little comedy show. Luna has discovered she can sneak back into the house from the yard and go bother the cat, who is older, wiser, and rapidly losing patience with this six-month-old chaos machine.

It’s like watching a retired professor deal with a caffeinated toddler.

And honestly, it’s hilarious.

That’s the other thing I’ve learned lately.

You have to laugh.

There’s a lot of weirdness and craziness out there right now. Sometimes the best response is just to shake your head and laugh a little.

This week I’ve got some time off, and I’m planning to use it the way I like best: drawing, painting, writing, maybe doing a livestream or two if the schedule allows.

Another Dragonbreath short story is also on the way. If you haven’t read them yet, there are already several stories up exploring the world of Essidarius—a place that’s been sitting in my head for years and is finally starting to spill onto the page.

It’s been a surprisingly good meditation just to write it all down.

So that’s the motivation for this Monday—even if it arrived a little late.

Try things.Laugh at the mess.Build what you want to build.

And most importantly…

Be good.

Not the cute “What’s the deal with traffic?” kind of joke or the coffee-mug Instagram quote kind of motivation. I’m talking about the kind of information that feels like the entire internet is screaming at you as you scroll through your phone.

Somehow, you’re still expected to go to work, be charming, and be productive despite feeling overwhelmed. We live in a time where we have access to more information than any previous generation, yet it feels like we’re caught in a chaotic storm. Every headline is alarming, every feed is intense, and it’s hard to tell what’s truly important amidst the noise.

You can live in one place and feel the impact of events happening across the country, all while carrying the weight of this information in your pocket. It’s disorienting and makes you wonder where the “good guys” are and if anyone will finally say, “Enough.”

But beneath this overwhelming noise, people are fighting back—filing lawsuits, speaking up, and organizing in everyday ways. This is the real rebellion, looking like neighbors talking and communities coming together.

The temptation now is to feel hopeless or numb, but remember that politics is very much involved in your life. When the world feels unstable, you don’t burn it down; you take care of your home and people, look for helpers, and stay engaged.

Don’t let the noise make you feel powerless. There’s more to this than just a rant—a deeper inquiry into purpose, action, and our responsibilities to one another.

If you want a deeper take on this, the podcast is waiting.

For now, on this Monday: Stay sharp. Stay human. And above all, be good.

It’s Monday.

You just woke up. Or you’re in your car. Or you made the bold decision to hit play on a motivational podcast before coffee. Respect.

Let’s talk about something uncomfortable.

A friend of mine once said he wished he lived in medieval times. Viking stuff. Sword. Tribe. Clear enemies. Clear purpose. Life was brutal, sure — but at least it was simple.

And I get the fantasy.

Not the pillaging. Relax.

But the idea that if survival were harder, meaning would be clearer.

Here’s the part that keeps me up at night:

A thousand years from now, historians are going to look back and realize we were getting absolutely wrecked by text messages.

Not swords.Not famine.Not plague.

Group chats.

A meme derails your morning. Laundry kills your momentum. A weird look at work ruins your focus. Suddenly, your consistency is gone.

Meanwhile, people in the Middle Ages were getting stabbed before breakfast and still had to milk something.

We live to 70 or 80. We have hot showers. Endless food. Infinite entertainment. More tools and knowledge than any generation before us. We live like kings.

And what do we do?

We doom scroll.We feel guilty for being tired.We wait for the “perfect” day to start.

That day doesn’t exist.

The sun will never hit the dust just right. You will never feel fully aligned, rested, and transcendent. Things don’t calm down. They multiply.

So if you have a dream — a comic, a book, a business, a skill you want to build — here’s the hard truth:

A lot of what’s in your way is your own bullshit.

You don’t get what you wish for. You get what you fight for.

And the fight isn’t epic.

It’s not dragons.It’s not a montage.It’s not cinematic.

It’s consistency.

Consistency is boring. It’s quiet. There’s no applause. Nobody posts the five years they almost quit. Nobody uploads the days when nothing worked. We’re surrounded by finished products pretending they were inevitable.

So when your progress feels slow and unglamorous, you think something’s wrong.

It’s not.

That’s exactly what it’s supposed to look like.

I use a simple rule: don’t break the chain. One line. One page. One riff. One paragraph. Even when I’m tired. Even when I’m annoyed. Five minutes count.

Five becomes ten. Ten becomes thirty. Suddenly, something exists that didn’t exist before.

And even if it blows up in your face — even if it fails — you get to say you showed up.

That matters.

This podcast started because Monday mornings suck. I was sitting in traffic, talking out loud so I wouldn’t lose my mind. Turns out, other artists and creators needed that too.

So we’re back.

New work. New episodes. New chaos.

But none of it happens without the boring part.

Consistency.

So it’s Monday.

Stop waiting for the heroic version of yourself.

Be the disciplined one instead.

That’s the one who wins.

BE GOOD