FWACATA

We all like to think we’re good people. But are we really? Or are we just people who haven’t been given the chance to be bad yet?

That’s the thing my dad used to say: “People are how they are, and people are where they should be.” And as harsh as it sounded, he was right. Because most of the ugliness in the world isn’t random—it’s self-inflicted. There are very few tragedies. Doesn’t mean you don’t help or push people down, no, not at all, but many of us are where we put ourselves.

The truth is, people are as good as their options.

When life corners you, when you lose comfort, when the easy choices disappear—that’s when your character shows. And whether it’s in art, politics, or just being human, the same law applies:What you do when you can’t do much… says everything.

As artists, we constantly face limits—time, money, doubt. But those limits don’t define us. How we respond to them does.

So ask yourself this week:What options can I improve? What choices am I proud of?And which ones am I pretending I don’t have?

Because the truth is—being good is easy when it’s easy.The real test is being good when it’s not.

Hey there, fuckos. Welcome back to another Monday Motivation—your weekly reminder that your brain is not just for storing old passwords and random Die Hard quotes.

I’m FWACATA—your art dad, your creative comrade, your podcaster-shouter of truths.

And today’s episode? The Joy of Learning.Not the homework kind. Not the “show your work on the math problem” kind.I’m talking about learning as fuel. The good shit.

Learning ≠ Homework

Now, I know what you’re thinking:“Learning? Didn’t I leave that back in high school, right next to my bad haircut and my crippling acne?”

Yeah, me too. But here’s the thing—learning isn’t punishment. It’s fuel. It’s rocket fuel for your brain-car. Without it? You’re just Fred Flintstoning your way through projects, barefoot on gravel, wondering why everything feels stale.

When I was working for the Hormel family as an art archivist—yes, that Hormel family—my boss used to say, “I don’t want to hear ‘I don’t know.’ I want to hear ‘I’ll find out.’” That stuck with me. “I don’t know” isn’t an answer. It’s an excuse. And excuses are where ideas go to die.

Talent = Passion × Time

Here’s a dirty little secret: Talent is just passion times time.That’s it. No magic, no divine spark from the art gods. Just passion, multiplied by time, multiplied by the hours you put in.

Learning is what accelerates that equation. It’s the turbo boost, the NOS in your Fast & Furious brain.

Weird Knowledge Sparks Big Ideas

And here’s the kicker: the learning doesn’t even have to be “useful.”

Saul Alinsky studied sea urchins. David Bowie read about space exploration.Me? I spent an entire afternoon learning about raccoons. And now I can’t stop drawing them like they’re plotting world domination.

Sometimes the weirdest, most random knowledge is exactly what sparks the coolest ideas.

The Kim Jung Gi Effect

Take Kim Jung Gi—the late, great Korean artist. Absolute monster talent. Guy could draw helicopters, motorcycles, and entire battlefields straight out of his head.

Why? Because he studied everything. He took apart scooters and sketched every part. He drew the same engines, gears, and pistons over and over until he understood them.

That’s the power of learning. When you absorb knowledge, it becomes part of your mental toolbox. You’re not just copying anymore—you’re creating.

Curiosity is Oxygen

Look, learning keeps you alive. Without it, your brain turns into that one potato in the pantry—the one you forgot about—that sprouts alien tentacles and freaks you out when you find it.

Curiosity is oxygen. It keeps your art fresh, keeps your perspective sharp, and keeps you from turning into that jaded asshole who thinks they’ve got nothing left to learn.

Challenge of the Week

So here’s my challenge for you this week:

Pick one thing—just one—that you don’t know… and dive into it.

* Learn a new recipe.

* Read about an artist you’ve never heard of.

* Watch a tutorial on how to play the ukulele. (You don’t even need to own one. That’s not the point.)

The point isn’t mastery. The point is movement. Learning humbles you. And it energizes you.

Closing

So celebrate the joy of learning. Stay curious. Stay weird. Stay that person who always asks why—even if it annoys the hell out of everyone around you.

Because curiosity isn’t childish. Curiosity is how you stay alive. And when you pour that new knowledge into your art—your writing, your music, your Nicholas Cage hot-glue sculptures—you’ll find inspiration waiting like an old friend.

That’s it for this week’s Monday Motivation.Stay curious. Stay weird. And as always—be good.

Hey, everybody—it’s Monday, September 29, and this is your Monday Motivation Podcast by FWACATA.

What’s up, heathens? You sweaty, creative masses of chaos? Yeah, that thing that happened—wild, right? I mean, I don’t know what happened, because I pre-recorded this. But thanks to the internet’s nonstop firehose of madness, I’m sure something insane just went down. So now it sounds like I know what’s happening. See how that works? “Dude, did you SEE that shit?” Boom. Timeless.

Anyway. Welcome back to the other Monday Motivation—the one where we drag your creative bird out of bed, slap it around a little, pour some coffee on it, and shove it back into the ring.

Today’s episode? Creative Reboots.Restarting stalled projects with fresh energy.

Here’s a confession: I have drawers—literal drawers—of half-finished comics, folders of “someday novels,” Google Docs of script fragments, and sketchbooks that look like serial killer ransom notes. Every time I open them, these projects look up at me like, “Bro, remember us? You abandoned us like a Tamagotchi in ’98.”

We all have them. Projects that start hot—burning like first love—and then three weeks later you’re wondering: Why the hell did I think a 400-page Gundam-meets-Full-Metal-Jacket-meets-Mad-Max comic was a good idea? (Spoiler: it wasn’t. But I still tried.)

Creative projects are like relationships. They start steamy. You doodle hearts around their name. Then reality shows up like a chaperone at prom, and you’re sitting in the corner with your unfinished script, not even getting to second base.

So what do you do? How do you reboot?

1. Step Back.

Look at your project like it’s someone else’s. Pretend you found it in a thrift store. What’s cool about it? What sucks? Sometimes distance gives you fresh eyes. Go get a coffee. Go stare at a wall. Hell, go smoke a cigarette if that’s still your thing. Come back. You’ll see it differently.

2. Scale It Down.

Maybe the project stalled not because it sucks—but because you made it too damn big. Instead of a 400-page epic, make it a 12-page comic. Instead of a novel, a short story. Instead of a film, a TikTok. Give yourself permission to shrink it. Small wins build momentum.

3. Change the Tools.

If you’re stuck, switch the medium. Writing on a laptop? Try pen and paper. Painting with acrylics? Try markers, charcoal, Photoshop—hell, carve it into a potato if you have to. Creativity thrives on novelty. Sometimes the project isn’t stuck—you are.

4. Reconnect with the “Why.”

Ask yourself: Why did I start this? Was it the story? The character? The mood? Go back to the original spark. I make soundtracks for my projects—yeah, actual playlists. When I hear certain songs, I remember what I wanted the story to feel like, and suddenly, boom—the fire’s back.

5. Celebrate Progress, Not Perfection.

A reboot doesn’t mean you finish it tomorrow. It means breathing life back into it. One sketch. One page. One note. That’s CPR for your project.

Look—unfinished doesn’t mean failed. It just means paused. You can hit “play” again anytime. And if it really is dead? That’s okay too. Bury it, honor it, and move on. Not every sketch becomes a masterpiece. But every sketch leads somewhere.

So this week: dust off one stalled project. Give it a reboot. Look at it with new eyes. Shrink it down. Switch your tools. Reconnect with your why. Do something. Anything. And maybe, just maybe, that creative corpse gets back up and dances.

That’s it for today’s Monday Motivation. If you’re digging this podcast, support me on Patreon at patreon.com/fwacata—get behind-the-scenes chaos, comics, art, and maybe the occasional zombie project resurrection.

And hey—the Kickstarter for issue 3 of FWACATA is live. Go check it out. Support if you can, or at least spread the word. Even a repost works wonders. https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/ThisisJuan/fwacata-3-comics-to-the-face?ref=9gnlxm

Alright weirdos—reboot, restart, and as always… be good.

Hey everybody—it’s Juan. Yeah, I know, I’ve been MIA. Missed a couple of episodes since September. My bad.

And no, I wasn’t out there selling my ass on Biscayne Boulevard… but honestly? It came close. Life’s been busy as hell, and when the bills scream louder than your muse, you gotta answer.

But that’s not the only reason I hit pause. Truth is, after the Charlie Kirk incident, it got really hard to sit down and record something motivational. I mean, how do you scream “be good, make art!” into the mic when the world feels like it’s circling the drain?

The Shitstorm in My Head

Every day, I catch myself thinking about how fast things are unraveling. And I try to balance it—like, “Juan, it’s not that bad.” But then I scroll the internet, and holy hell… it’s toothpaste ads next to hate speech, conspiracies being treated like facts, and everyone yelling louder just to be heard.

And here’s the thing—I’m always more wary of the people pushing hate and violence than anyone speaking about peace. Because peace takes real work. Violence? Any asshole can pull a trigger. We’ve seen that.

Charlie Kirk—yeah, I’ll say it—was a racist piece of shit. He didn’t deserve to die. Nobody does. And no, I’m not saying that to make myself look noble. I’m saying it because if people get shot in the neck for their opinions—no matter how shitty—then what’s stopping someone from putting a bullet in me because they didn’t like this podcast? That’s the scary part.

Peace Is Harder Than War

We think pacifism means “doing nothing.” But nonviolence is harder. Martin Luther King, Gandhi—they weren’t passive. They chose the long road, the painful road, but the right road. It’s easy to blow something up. It’s harder to build something worth living for.

Now don’t get me wrong—I’m a Second Amendment guy. I’ve sold guns. I get it. Self-defense is real. But owning a gun means facing a truth: it’s not for sport, it’s not for decoration—it’s a tool designed to kill. And if you’re not ready to own that responsibility, then maybe rethink it.

The Hurricane Metaphor

Here’s how I see it: life right now feels like a hurricane. The outer bands hit first—wind, rain, chaos. Then comes the eye, calm and quiet. And that’s where people make the mistake—they think it’s over, walk outside, and get wrecked by the second half of the storm.

I don’t think we’re even in the eye yet. I think we’re still getting hit by those outer bands. And when it looks calm? That’s when we’ve got to be extra careful. Because the second wave could be worse.

What Keeps Me Going

So what do we do? We prep. We make sure we can eat, drink, sleep, and shit without panicking. We don’t panic-buy—we prepare smart. And most importantly, we build community. Because that’s the antidote to division.

Neighbors. Friends. Each other. That’s what’ll get us through, not lone-wolf Rambo fantasies.

Back to Motivation

So yeah—your “motivational guy” got unmotivated. Happens. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t working. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t creating. Just meant it was hard to come back here and push positivity when the storm outside feels louder than my mic.

But I’m back. This is a little bonus episode to reset. Monday’s episode—number 29—is coming, and I’ll be working to make up the ones I missed.

Thanks for sticking around. Thanks for being patient. And remember—life is chaos, but we keep making, we keep moving, we keep showing up.

Until then—as always—be good.

PS: My Kickstarter for FWACATA Issue 3 is out, get your copy now in the pre-order and other awesomeness all right here! https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/ThisisJuan/fwacata-3-comics-to-the-face?ref=9gnlxm

[El Paso, TX –] — FWACATA — pronounced [fwah-KAH-tah], a phonetic variation of the Cuban Spanish fuácata — is a word that can mean POW!, WHAM!, or the sting of sudden impact. It can also describe being completely broke — “estar en la fuácata” — the kind of comic book broke that hits when you can’t stop backing rad indie projects. But for artist and writer Juan Navarro, FWACATA is more than an interjection. It’s a way of life. A philosophy. And the name of his quarterly, Latinx-led self-anthology comic series. Now, with the launch of FWACATA #3 on Kickstarter, Navarro is back—swinging harder than ever.

💥 WHAT IS FWACATA #3? FWACATA #3 is a 32-page chaos capsule of ongoing and original stories told through the DIY power of comics. It's gritty, loud, and gloriously weird.

🔥 Featuring:

REZ – The Final Chapter A corrupt detective haunted by past lives tries to solve one last case before his current life ends in flames.

PACHANGA – Meathook Returns Miami’s brutal vigilante Meathook takes on a drug-fueled juggernaut. And the cops? Stuck in the middle.

ZOMBIE YEARS – APOCALYPSE KNIGHT From Navarro’s cult-favorite horror webcomic comes a deadly new short featuring a knight armored for the end of the world.

Plus: Bonus comics, behind-the-scenes sketches, and two jaw-dropping covers:

Cover A: An homage to Dave McKean and the dark, surreal beauty of 90s Vertigo.

Cover B: A tribute to Super Mario Bros. 3, the greatest “#3” in gaming history—because, why not?

🧠 MORE THAN A SOUND EFFECT FWACATA is a Latinx punk zine in comic form—fast, fearless, and full of voice. Navarro, a Cuban-American artist, writer, and educator, built the series as a personal anthology of short stories, art experiments, and serialized mayhem, all under one title.

"FWACATA is about impact—emotional, visual, cultural. It’s about doing what big publishers won’t, and hitting you with stories that matter to me and my community," says Navarro.

A veteran of the indie comics scene, Juan has worked with AfterShock Comics, HBO Latino, Creature Entertainment, and more, all while teaching art and storytelling in El Paso, TX.

Read issue 1 here: https://bindings.app/read/9jacRnaG

🎙️ PODCAST INTERVIEWS + PRESS FRIENDLY Juan Navarro will be appearing on multiple podcasts throughout the campaign to talk: Making comics while teaching full-time The chaotic joy of self-publishing Growing up Latinx in comics and art What Super Mario 3, Vertigo, and Miami Vice have in common Need a guest? Press kit? Interview? 📧 Contact Juan directly at: [email protected]

📎 Download the full press kit here

🎁 REWARD TIERS INCLUDE: Digital + print editions Original sketchcards and interior pages Rare back issues (#1 & #2) Kickstarter-exclusive covers and commissions Artist bundle tiers and custom art

FWACATA #3 will be available for a limited time on Kickstarter. Early bird specials drop in the first 48 hours!

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/ThisisJuan/fwacata-3-comics-to-the-face

When was the last time you practiced the basics? I’m talking about drawing cubes, playing scales, writing clean sentences—the broccoli of creativity. Not glamorous, not sexy, but absolutely essential.

The truth is, fundamentals aren’t just for beginners. They’re for everyone. Athletes run drills. Musicians practice scales. Even chefs revisit chopping onions. Why? Because mastery is maintenance.

Skipping fundamentals is like skipping the gym—you’ll eventually regret it. And the best part? The stronger your basics, the freer your creativity becomes. Fundamentals are the foundation that lets you build castles, break rules, and push limits without everything collapsing.

So this week’s Monday Motivation is all about revisiting your fundamentals. Pick one area of your craft, go back to basics, and practice. Not because you’re bad, but because you’re sharpening your edge.

🎙 Listen to the full episode → Patreon.com/FWACATAAlso, check out the Discord for more! https://discord.gg/Un3ZJGwM

If there’s one thing that chaps my balls (and trust me, there are many), it’s ego.You know the kind—spoken-word monologues that sound like they were written by a mirror:“I am the truth, I am the fire, I am the cosmic latte of your reflection.”

Cool. Congrats. But here’s the thing: creating isn’t about being the cosmic latte. It’s about doing the thing, failing at the thing, and sometimes—even more importantly—celebrating the fact you did the thing at all.

Because being creative is like being in a bad relationship. You give it everything: your time, your sleep, your Netflix queue. And what do you get back? A drawing of a horse that looks like a toaster with legs. Or a short story that reads like it was typed with someone’s feet.

But now and then, you land it. You make something, you look at it the next day, and you don’t want to vomit. That’s a win.

And here’s the tragedy: most of us don’t celebrate it. We just shrug and say, “Yeah, but what’s next?”That’s like winning Olympic gold and complaining your shoelaces were untied.

I’ll admit it—I’m guilty. I finish a painting, and by the time it’s off the easel, I’m already sick of it. I’ve literally begged museums just to keep the damn thing because I don’t want to pick it up. I’m like a deadbeat parent to my own art. Done is done, and I don’t want visitation rights.

But you know what? That’s not fair—to me or the work. Because small wins matter.

Wins like:

* That one sketch in your notebook that actually worked.

* A print you sold—even if it was on sale.

* A stranger saying, “Hey, this made me smile.”

* Your kid asking to draw with you. (That’s huge.)

* Or, if you’re me as a kid—spray-painting your toy van army green, taping it like your dad’s body shop, and scrawling FUCK TRUCK down the side. (True story. And yes, the weapons popped out when you pressed the button. Tell me that’s not a creative win.)

Here’s the thing: these wins are your rocket boosters. Each one gives you enough thrust to break gravity and keep going. Without them, you’re stuck on the launchpad, pissed off, wondering why nothing feels worth it.

So here’s your homework this week:Think of one creative win you’ve had. Doesn’t matter how small. Maybe it was a napkin doodle that didn’t look like hot garbage. Maybe it was a poem that made you laugh. Maybe it was the time your cousin made up a theme song for your ridiculous toy van.

Celebrate it. Out loud. Toast it. Do a stupid dance. Tell your dog because nobody else is going to throw you a parade. You have to be the marching band for yourself.

Creative wins are rare. They’re quiet. They don’t come with confetti or royalties. But they matter. They’re proof. They’re fuel. And if you string enough of them together, you don’t just make art—you make a life.

So celebrate your work, even the messy bits. Especially the messy bits.Because in the end, small wins are still wins.

🎧 Listen to the full episode →

👉 Support more rants, chaos, and comics on Patreon → [Patreon Link]

Join the discord, show work, and discuss!

The other day I saw this video of a professor talking about cringe culture—how being openly hopeful, positive, or ambitious somehow makes you the human equivalent of a “kick me” sign. Better to be nihilistic, detached, and “cool” than risk being seen trying.

And you know what? She’s right. We’ve built a culture where fear is fashionable. Fear of being judged. Fear of being canceled. Fear of failing so hard that you leave a crater.

But here’s the truth: fear’s only job is to keep you bland and “safe.” It’s that smoke detector that screams at burnt toast. It’s the backseat driver telling you to stay home and eat dry cereal instead of risking rejection, ridicule, or (God forbid) being seen.

Here’s the dirty secret nobody tells you: everyone’s afraid.The artists you admire? Afraid. Your favorite musicians? Nervous wrecks before a show. Even Beyoncé probably has a moment backstage wondering if her dress is too sparkly.

The difference is—they act anyway.

Fear has never written a book, painted a canvas, or built a business. It just sits there with its arms crossed, muttering “don’t.” The only way to shut it up is to do it anyway.

Start small. Post one piece of art. Play your song for one friend. Sell one hot dog. Each step is a hammer swing breaking the chains that hold you back.

Because you’re not here to live small. You’re here to make noise, make messes, screw up, learn, and grow. Fear will always be in the car—just don’t let it drive.

🎧 Hear the full rant on FWACATA’s Monday Motivation #29 over on Patreon — where chaos, comics, and creative rebellion live.

Hey hey, kids—it’s Monday Motivation and you know what that means: caffeinate your soul, kick your brain into gear, and let’s make something happen.Welcome to episode 28: Your Creative Superpower – Embracing What Makes Your Work Special.

Everybody wants to be “good” at their craft. But “good” is a moving target. You could be the cleanest illustrator in the game and still get compared to some 14-year-old on Instagram who figured out Procreate last week. You could write a sentence so sharp it could slice bread—and still feel like you’re nowhere near Hemingway, or hell, even the dude who writes the Trader Joe’s Fearless Flyer.

Here’s the truth bomb: perfection is boring. The world is full of technically brilliant work that nobody remembers. Your real power isn’t about fitting into the mold—it’s about smashing the mold with a brick you made yourself, duct-taped together with your quirks, your flaws, and your experiences.

Your creative superpower is that weird thing only you do.

* The “wrong” color palettes you can’t stop using.

* The odd way your dialogue sounds like your uncle after three beers.

* The jagged, messy lines that make your art look alive.

* The themes you keep circling back to, even if you swear you’re done with them.

Stop apologizing for them. Double down.Because when you lean into that, you stop competing. Nobody else can do you.

It’s like a musician’s tone—you can copy their notes, but you can’t steal their soul. And your work has a soul, even if it’s dressed like a raccoon in a leather jacket.

So this week, instead of sanding down your rough edges, sharpen them. Make something that only you could have made, even if it’s too loud, too weird, too “you.” Especially if it’s too you.

That’s the good stuff. That’s the superpower.

Now go make some trouble with it. And as always—be good.

HEY HEY KIDS!

Yeah, I said it Krusty the Clown–style. It’s Monday Motivation time, and you know what that means: caffeinate your soul, slap yourself awake with a paintbrush, and prepare to scream into the void—in the most beautiful, artful way possible.

This week on FWACATA, we’re talking total artistic freedom. That holy grail where there are no rules, no deadlines, no clients, no critics—just you, your tools, and that screaming void begging you to make something weird, raw, honest, maybe even kind of ugly... and therefore brilliant.

But here’s the trap: freedom is scary. Like, pants-half-unzipped-at-the-buffet scary. Blank canvases don’t come with instructions. No guardrails. No gold stars. And when you strip away all the outer noise, what comes up? Imposter syndrome. Fear. Doubt. That voice that whispers: “You? Really? You think you’re good enough?”

I once painted a mural in Hialeah Gardens with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles—up 12 feet on a ladder, baking in the Florida sun. My stomach turned. My hands shook. Not because I was tired. Because I didn’t think I deserved to be there. I laughed to myself mid-brushstroke and said, “Oh… this is imposter syndrome.” And I kept painting.

Because that’s the secret: doing it anyway.

You don’t need permission. You don’t need perfection. You need to ask, “Is this ME?”—not, “Is this good?” And that’s the golden ticket. That’s where the real art lives.

Even if nobody sees it. Especially if nobody sees it.

But hey—share it anyway. That weird little epoxy Max figure you sculpted? That strange sketch? That strange thought that bloomed into a poem? That might be the one thing that makes another artist out there—maybe in Akron, maybe in Argentina—feel less alone. That’s enough.

Artistic freedom means failing isn’t failing. It’s just research. It’s the data you collect before making something even more you.

So this week, make something messy. Make something dumb. Make something pure. Rip the caution tape off your brain and let it dance naked in the street. Be the beautiful chaos you were born to be.

And as always—be good.