This morning I caught myself jotting down names of artists I’m interested in having create me a Dejah Thoris commission. That’s right, not 24 hours after posting about how I don’t have the money to actually pay for all the comics I bought, not a week after being so into graded comics that I spent $400 in one day, and not a month after being so into first edition books that I thought I’d never need any other collectible, I found myself researching artists who might create a one-of-a-kind piece of art for me.
Good grief. It’s madness. But unlike what G.I.Joe says, knowing is not half the battle. And if it is, it’s the easy half. The fact that I know my interests have already changed doesn’t mean a damn thing. I’m officially hooked on original comic art again, and right now all I can do is get my fix. Either that or struggle through days of denial until the next phase sets in.
I’ve resisted the temptation for about six hours so far, but every time I’ve ventured online I quickly found myself in one original art site or another. I tell myself that looking around so much actually satisfies my needs, as if seeing what others own somehow curbs my impulses. What a crock. Window shopping does nothing but make your desires grow.
I’ve resisted so far, but it’s been a battle. And let’s face it, the temptation is nowhere near its peak. The need will only get worse. As will the debates that go on in my head. The voices will battle it out all day, weighing the pros and cons to the point where I can’t sleep. The rest of the time I’ll be online, researching artists and costs and turnaround times, or talking to other collectors to get their opinions, anything to make my decision easier. But all that’ll do is give me a headache.
Yep, resistance is futile. As of 8 a.m. this morning, I’m an original comic art collector once again.