I think it was in that biography of Charles Schulz, entitled Good Grief, where I read that Schulz once took a friend aside and showed them some of his old sketches from his time in WWII, exclaiming, "I really can draw, you know!" How funny, that this incredibly successful cartoonist would still feel the need to remind others that he really did have artistic talent. Not that I consider myself anywhere near the level of Schulz, but still, I can certainly relate to that kind of insecurity – the need to showcase the 'real art' from time to time just to remind folks that there's more to me than just goofy cartoons. But really, why the hell aren't goofy cartoons enough? I don't know. Maybe it's because I still get those sideway glances from folks when I tell them the kind of art that I do, or the bored snearing expression of those who quickly leaf through my books, or the ones who ask me why don't I try writing a dark, deep, heartfelt graphic novel, or the crtics who say that my illustrations are far too simple. If they're so damn simple, I mutter under my breath, then why the hell don't you draw them? I know, I know – it's wasted energy, and besides, I truly do love drawing silly, goofy cartoons, and in my heart I know that what I do is vaulable. Because if it isn't valuable, then why the hell is Mo Willems so bloody popular? But sometimes, in a weak moment, when I'm feeling like the world just views me as a low-brow hack, I too feel the need to pull out some of my sketches and exclaim, "I really can draw, you know!"
