munro

Tbh

Non-black comic book artists are lazy when it comes to black faces or hair. Especially hair. For almost 50 years comic book writers have preferred to write INTO CANON that Storm has naturally bone-straight hair instead of asking their artists to attempt curly/kinky texture. Other black comic book women have inconsistent, outdated, or even nonsensical hairstyles (when Misty had a huge afro AND relaxed bangs? Wtf was that?!). Hair textures get looser as time goes on (Riri Williams, Helena Bertinelli). Skin tones vary dramatically too. It’s like some of these artist have never even seen a black woman in person.

Black male comic book characters don’t fare that well either (though they are treated better than black women in comics). Hair is either bald or ceaser, with the occasional poorly rendered afro or locs. Faces are usually just same-face white characters with brown skin. Lazy.

If writers want to do justice to black characters they have to make sure the artists do the same. Or, better yet, hire black artists. There are tons of talented black artists right here on Tumblr who can draw, paint, and render circles around “professionals” in the industry. I’m tired, TIRED of seeing varied depictions of white people while black characters all get the same five features.

flickr

Good Morning from Scotland

Am Monadh Dubh by Graeme Campbell
Via Flickr:
Lochan na h'Achlaise and the black mount.

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Hebridean Light by David Langan
Via Flickr:
It’s Elgol - not much else I can say! :P

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Beinn Dorain by Jason Tyldsley

– Però… ti sei fatta più in carne, – disse. – Una volta eri pelle e ossa.
Era vero, ma non mi piaceva sentirmelo dire. Come tutte le altre ragazze del pensionato, mangiavo porcherie – abbondanti cene precotte e biscotti ripieni di marmellata. Il mio fidanzato, ostinatamente e possessivamente favorevole a tutto ciò che mi riguardava, sosteneva di amare le donne formose e aggiungeva che gli ricordavo Jane Russell. Non mi dava fastidio, detto da lui, ma di solito mi offendevo quando la gente faceva commenti sul mio aspetto fisico. Specie se si trattava di qualcuno tipo Alfrida, che non aveva più nessuna importanza nella mia vita. Ero convinta che persone del genere non avessero il diritto di guardarmi, o di farsi un’opinione sul mio conto, né tanto meno di esprimerla.
—  Alice Munro, Mobili di famiglia da Nemico, amico, amante…