Arrivals and Departures — September 2025

Month after month I have put out reviews of the latest self-published and micropress offerings and do you know what I’ve gotten in return? A lot of DMs, that’s what. One mid-level, medium-talented cartoonist once wrote to me very early in the morning: “You have no eye for poetry, and therefore no business commenting on art. I hope your shoelaces are forever soggy.” A few other people have accused me of trying to “dunk” on artists with my column. That I disagree with.

I go into every comic I read, for this column or otherwise, with the hope — with the steaming hot pie-in-the-sky expectation — that it’s going to blow my mind. It’s going to move me. It’s going to prove that this whole humanity thing is still an ongoing concern. That’s my baseline and where I’m coming from. I adjust, pivot, and attempt to commentate accordingly.

In the very first column there is a synopsis I still stand by: “I chose the name Arrivals and Departures because I’m looking for cartoonists coming into their own, moving into a new (or perhaps their first) artistic terminal, departing the mainstream or whatever that means these days. There are plenty of comics being made and I’ll do my best — commenting out here from the cell phone lot — on the ones that get stuck in my craw or become thorns in my side.”

Thanks for coming aboard Arrivals and Departures for year three.

Ft. Carvey, FL by Ross Jackson

I recently caught up with a friend I’ve known since fourth grade and I can tell you that there’s nothing better than giddily laughing at some good buddy lore. Through 12 elongated risographed pages, Ross Jackson succinctly distills how these salad days stories are created in the first place. Ari is the nervous, self-aware peacekeeper. The budding theater nerd seemingly lacking insecurities is named Edie. And Dot is the artsy, risk-taking baby goth. In three- and four-panel strips, this trio walks around parks and hangs around bedrooms. There’s not even a hint of adults in their orbit (and I’m not counting Dot’s teenage sister who chaperones them to the mall, seething all the way). It is quite clear that Jackson has a good-natured affection for all of them as he captures their personalities taking flight amid sublime suburban minutia.

Through his other comics, Jackson has attempted to expand this Ft. Carvey universe, focusing on family members and tangentially related townies with some magical realism thrown into the mix. These longer works are frankly not nearly as good. Maybe he’s bored with his main characters or maybe going with a broader appeal and higher page counts is the only way to attract potential book deals? In either case, it’s a shame, because this is a perfect minicomic that treats brevity as the gold standard. I can’t see these three being friends much after junior high is over which makes this whole endeavor wonderfully wistful. To tell a story by digging into young lives lived — and have a punchline at the end — is mighty difficult. Here, at least, Jackson proves up to the task.

A grab bag by Red Apple Comics

A while ago I ordered an anthology put together by Red Apple Comic (sometimes spelled Red Apple Comix, sometimes Red Appo, and sometimes just Apple) that I didn’t particularly care for. It took several months to arrive so I think as a “thank you for your patience,” in the mailer I also received these five minicomics hand-sewn together to make a MegaZine. Reading them all back-to-back was riveting — I couldn’t tell if I was in a time machine going backward or into the future, if the drawings would look better sprayed across a brick wall than scrawled on pieces of paper. All I know for sure is that the dream of Bode and Bakshi is alive and well.

This package of comics is full of stories that I can categorize as “Nothing Happens, Then Everything Happens.” A fairy daintily collects seashells atop a desert island until a giant mountain lion tries to devour her. A tattoo artist is bored at her job until a wild-eyed babe slams open the door and propositions her. A woman is in bed lamenting about not having enough money to buy tacos until a Hindu deity rips her limb from limb. Most, if not all, of these stories end with the main protagonist waking up from a dream or zone-out session. In basketball circles, Red Apple is someone you might consider a “pure hooper.” Even with limitations, she has enough vehement skills to draw anything and make it work in any era. Red Apple Comics may not always be fully fleshed out (no pun intended) but they sure are provocative and alluring.

Sunspot by Mimi Chuang

Sunspot is a compilation consisting of short work by nine distinct artists, and they’re all Mimi Chuang. Stories include:

• A few where characters are short with exaggerated head sizes and long, straight noses. The colors are pastel and flat. This seems to be Chuang’s “house” style and most definitely her strongest.
• One that’s shaded with pencil in black and white with full-page cinematic panels.
• Another where the cuteness is unsuccessfully attempting to do the heavy lifting. It’s done in textured color pencil in a modern children’s book style.
• Photographs with little characters drawn into them, traversing the landscape. Full paragraphs of Times New Roman text sit beneath.
• Small sections of more abstract biological diagrams. I’ve been banging the drum for more comics about animals for years!
• “Succession,” four pages which I can only describe as Silver Sprocket-y. It’s the weakest.

All of this doesn’t feel as aimless as it might sound. Chuang has taken on the admirable goal of making work about climate change and how humans can be more introspective about their relationship with Mother Nature at large. Sunspot is a neat package that has a flow — Chuang’s a young artist who’s already figured out how to be both accessible and accomplished — and is easy to read. The problem is that there’s too much to read. The artist needs to ask herself how she can present this clear intention without using so many words, especially the constant references to professors and goings-on in lecture halls. I understand that this was a final college project (academia is the worst thing to ever happen to comics — don’t @ me) so I’m eager to see what comes next without any of those hangups. I hope Chuang, and the contents of her next comic, can get a moment to breathe in some of that sweet, sweet fresh air.

To crib from a recent book I read to my four-year-old son I will end with, “Comics is us and we are it. Comics is where we like to be, and it looks like all our dreams.” If you see me lumbering around CXC later this week, please say hello. Otherwise, I’ll see you next month, I hope.

Questions, love letters and submissions to this column can be directed to @rjcaseywrites on Instagram.

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