Kimball and Laurel

@counterintuitive

2 queer and disabled people making weird comics together.

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Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 2d

part 36 of 47 “Sketchbook Comic: Book 3” is my personal sketchbook, where I juxtapose my art with writing about my experiences as a non-binary, chronically ill person. re-releasing this in advance of a print run! read the rest on my website, or support my patreon - links in bio!

In this one page section, horizontal lines slash across the face of a figure. The figure holds their chest in pained body language, and then tries to put one hand up to their face. Words read: ugh destroy myself, let go, let all of this go, and become something else. Please.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 9d

part 35 of 47 “Sketchbook Comic: Book 3” is my personal sketchbook, where I juxtapose my art with writing about my experiences as a non-binary, chronically ill person. re-releasing this in advance of a print run! read the rest on my website, or support my patreon - links in bio!

In this section, parallel lines lead down to little hooks, like many fishing lines. Or perhaps the hooks are more like indents, like hair follicles coming out of pores. The writing starts: if I can create problems in myself like this, out of fear and feeling like, the moth to the flame.

In one panel, a light seems to be cast from the hooks, like a shadow. In another, there’s a circle in the middle, like a reflection of the moon in the midst of reeds sticking out of water. Text concludes: then how do I know I didn’t create my illnesses that way?

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 14d

A paragraph sits on a white half of a page, and below two shadowy shapes sit on a bed of messy squiggles, giving a feeling like closing your eyes when you are overwhelmed. The writing reads: A guide to the practical and emotional realities of getting good rest, and a story about how messy the process can look.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 14d

A small paragraph of text sits in the middle of a white page. It says: Now that you have this idea of how much one unit is, probe your intuition using this measurement as a guide.

A series of questions as their own paragraphs again. They read: How many units can you use of your most draining activity until you are completely demolished? How many units do other activities take? How many units do you have today? How long does it take to recover one unit through rest? Are there other methods of recovering units? Activities that generate energy or make symptoms recede? You might not know every answer right away, but if you keep watching for those answers they will start to fill in for you.

Lighter panels with squiggles that feel more harmonious appear on the panels on this page. The text says: And as that feeling of worn down relief hit your body, something inside of you felt that comfort and ease, and wanted to seize upon it. Make sure it can not get away.

Two small panels have text that says: stress courses through you. A desire to control. In a large panel underneath, energetic zig zagging scratches overtake the composition. One last bit of text reads: And you lose your chance.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 14d

A heavy feeling starts this page, dark and stagnant. Writing reads: you sigh, and with that sigh you feel the last bit of stubbornness leave your body. In this moment you surrender.

On this page, a sense of space appears. Of things clearing away a little. Text continues: And there is a relief in this surrender, in not trying to find an answer or a solution.

Everything feels a bit brighter, but also more washed out and dull. The writing says: You had been trying so hard for so long, and every bit of effort just turned on you. Made you more stuck in the mire of your own body. The shapes in this last panel feel surrounded by urgent scribbles.

A large panel fills the page with an open feeling to it. Even the background lines feel a little less hectic. Text reads: To simply let your muscles go limp, to finally lose the fight in you, felt good.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 14d

A page that gives the feeling of a small light is held to it in the dark. Text reads: And all of your wishes went out into the room with your breath, drowned out by the buzz of electronics at the edge of your perception.

A single panel fills this page, with shadows giving way to an insistent light. Writing says: Yearning, determination, and even your frustration seemed to dissipate into nothingness.

Another white page with two paragraphs. They read: Now that you have been developing your intuition, you can start applying structures of logic to it. A natural first step is figuring out how to quantify your limits. Start by thinking of an activity you do that you have a lot of experience with since your limits started. It might be cooking, showering, reading, anything that wears you down. You know the experience of doing this well, and you know the cost. Let us call the cost of that activity one unit of your health. You can call it a spoon, one gallon in the engine, one HP, whatever metaphor works for you. But the important thing is that you have a unit of measurement.

Two more paragraphs on this white page. They say: When you use that same amount of effort over the same amount of time on another activity, it might have a different cost. You might find that having a conversation wears you out twice as much as the activity you based the measurement on. That means it uses two units then, right? In this way you can start to quantify your intuition. This is how it makes sense in my brain, but if you find it easier to think of it in another way, do it. Just stay internally consistent and it will be useful.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 14d

A paragraph of white text sits in the middle of a plain white page. It reads: Once you start to have a sense of various signals and sensations in your body, it is natural to want to understand how it all fits together. Questions might occur to you.

On this white page, a series of questions in separate short paragraphs. They read: Is the need for recovery cumulative? Does overextending yourself today mean you have less in you tomorrow? If you pushed too hard again, how much rest would it take to get back to your baseline? Or is there a plateau of just feeling bad you can reach, and further activity does not make it worse? Are there some things that you do not seem to need to rest from, and some where you are more limited? Are there activities that actually make you feel better?

Words spill from lonely and disconnected shapes to the background. They say: you wish vaguely for someones hand to hold, for someone to be there with you right now.

The shapes feel almost plain and washed out on this page, with frantic lines buzzing underneath like a fly you are trying to ignore. The writing continues: you wish you knew what you were supposed to do, you wish to return to that feeling you used to have, where you knew exactly what you were doing.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 14d

Two tall panels fill the page. In the first, layers of shapes like broken pottery are stacked on top of each other. Text on them says: your eyes move from the ceiling, to your phone, to the window. In the second panel, the shapes are only at the bottom, and above them are irregular marks like when you scrape one rock against another to draw. Text says: nothing of note anywhere.

The shapes continue in this page’s panels, like scraps of scattered egg shells. Writing reads: When you think about how long you have been like this, it feels like you must be getting it wrong. It must be days, not weeks. It must be weeks, not months.

On the geometric forms it says: you feel like nothing has any form. Then the forms split apart from behind the words, leaving the text just sitting on the scribbly background. It says: you try to grasp it, and it slips through your fingers.

The writing returns to the shapes that seem to be more and more surrounded by frantic scraped marks and lines. It says: this is not your body, this is not your life.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 14d

Issue 5 in a series based on 20+ years experience as a spoonie, about rest and how hard it can be to accept that you need it. If you want a print copy, I send them out in my patreon monthly mailings before posting them here! I'll send old ones too while I have them! Link in bio.

The front cover of a zine. About half of the page is filled with a panel that holds two shadowy polygonal shapes with scratchy scribbles under them. Below it says: how to rest 5, quantifying. And then in smaller text it says: kimball anderson.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 15d

shop orders and Monthly Mailings envelopes are going out today! feel free to add more to our pile...

Around 20 light blue envelopes are fanned out on a surface of contrasting oranges and reds.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 15d

part 34 of 47 “Sketchbook Comic: Book 3” is my personal sketchbook, where I juxtapose my art with writing about my experiences as a non-binary, chronically ill person. re-releasing this in advance of a print run! read the rest on my website, or support my patreon - links in bio!

In this section, detailed and realistic drawings of mouths, with white showing light bounding off of the lips. A mouth held slightly open, a mouth held firmly closed. Text starts: and at some point the talking to myself, felt like it was out of my control. Like I would have to stop myself from blurting things out, when I was around others.

A finger enters the panels, and it smushes and pulls the lips. In one panel, pulling it up so gums are shown. The writing continues: I knew on some level that I had created this problem, but, that did not mean I controlled it.

In one large panel, fingers pull at the bottom lip of a mouth, dragging it down so that the mouth looks unsettling. Text concludes: I had gone on some self destructive fantasy, and, actually created something real out of it.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 21d

Mailing How to Rest 7 this month, which is about expanding spoon theory into multiple energy types. Get a copy on my patreon $20 tier (or $1 discounted slots, while they are still there). I’ll catch you up on older issues too!

A zine rests on a fabric which has bands of color that almost look like a landscape. On the cover a single panel with a murky gray background holds pointy dark shapes at the top and bottom. Parallel swooping lines that look almost like a claw mark move down from the top of the page to the bottom in a gentle curve. White text at the top says: how to rest 7, spoons and forks and knives. And then below it says: kimball anderson.

A pale hand holds open the zine, still at rest on the fabric. Two pages filled with panels show overlapping gray geometric shapes and swooping parallel lines. Text on the pages reads: At some point you just had to acknowledge the obvious. Maybe you will not be worn down like this forever, but you probably will be in a month. You are so tired of it, tired of it all. Tired of your own frustrating stubbornness.

The pale hand holds open another set of pages filled with panels of abstractions with text on top. Writing on the pages reads: You do not know why this particular event has you so tangled up inside. Plenty of other plans have fallen apart. There are too many friends you have not seen. But these mostly just drifted away quietly.

A single page is shown. White with a paragraph of text, which reads: Seeing these things in myself I started to wonder if instead of a unit like a spoon, perhaps there are also knives and forks and even soup spoons. If there are multiple types of energy that can get depleted or built back up. That maybe you could start a day with say 10 spoons and 1 knife. That it is not just a matter of having all of your symptoms flare up, or recede. But that you can be both doing well in one way, and not in another.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 22d

you may ask, wow, this Poly Morphous character is soooo sad & whiny, how can I find more?? and to that I say YES I have made many other minicomics & you can buy them or read them all for free online counterintuitivecomics.tumblr.com/post/6663870... laurellynnleake.storenvy.com/collections/...

Poly Morphous, a squishy little creature, poses cutely with long noodly arms over her head in the middle of radiating wiggles of color.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 22d

Thank you for reading! If you liked this comic, you can buy your own copy below. they came out super saturated and lush looking and true to the original watercolors, which is neat. laurellynnleake.storenvy.com/products/339...

A zine rests in the crook of a moss covered tree, the bright magentas of its cover standing in stark contrast to the mottled bark. A little yellow creature is in the corner, crossing their arms indignantly and crying big, wet tear drops that float around the edges of the page. In the middle, large white cursive text reads: me, me, me. And then in scribbly print letters it says: Laurel Lynn Leake.

The zine is held open in front of the tree trunk by a pale hand. Vibrant blues cover the pages, and the little yellow creature seems anguished as they say: it is too late and I have failed you, failed everyone! Ran out of, no, depleted some resource, the fuel to find others, to be worthy of their focus and love. On the next page, the face seems to take a tearful breath and then cry out in fury, saying: I am choked! with breaths, unspoken words, all mangled in the craw. An embarrassed look comes over their face, and they say: and all ridiculous.

The zine now sits in a bed of dried out grass at the foot of the tree, open to another set of pages. On the left, the creature cries big tears and falls to their back, and rolls around, saying: I would call to you…but I do not know who you are. And! I do not want to be saved so passively. Do not want to be completed by anyone but myself. On the right, the small yellow creature is held in the hands of a giant version of themself, seemingly made of tears and crying into a pool below. The writing continues: I am tired of me. I am tired of this! This me I call a failure, who is never living up to life. Cannot be! Cannot act!

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 22d

you may ask, wow, this Poly Morphous character is soooo sad & whiny, how can I find more?? and to that I say YES I have made 6 other minicomics & more drawings about this weirdo & you can buy them or read them all for free online counterintuitivecomi... laurellynnleake.stor...

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 22d

and that's the end! resolution? who needs it. 4/4

The yellow critter rushes out through the red, arms turning into noodles behind it. Writing says: I am hurting. I am hungry. Reaching out looms over me. The little yellow figure leaps into the blue beyond, down into the darkness. Text continues: an insurmountable responsibility, I dash against daily.

The noodle-armed little thing rests on a blue stroke of paint, still angry but crying. Text says: where are you? Where am I? The poor little yellow creature looks forlorn. The writing continues: where can I be, at peace with me?

On this page, the clear lush strokes are no more. This page has light strokes and then little splashes and splotches of blue, and lines of paint like a drop fell across the page. Text surrounds a tiny, lonely looking creature floating in this emptiness. It says: where can I feel like, enough?

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 22d

my friend told me this comic was really interesting from a nondualism perspective, like poly morphous is attempting to know the "no self" in this appropriately nondualistically amorphous inner space. I don't understand most of that but. I love that so yea sure I did it on purpose 3/4

The poor yellow critter just sits there with no strength left and cries. Text reads: I would call to you…but, I do not know who you are. A little yellow figure lies flat on the ground. The blues and reds of the background crash into each other as another little yellow figure punches and lashes out, still seeming distraught. Text continues: and! I do not want to be saved so passively. Do not want to be completed by anyone but myself.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 22d

I made this comic in 2018 and didn’t share it, because of the feeling bad. But now you can buy it as a full color 8-page minicomic on my storenvy, or download the pdf for free on my itch.io! SOB WHINE WAIL ETC 2/4 laurel-lynn-leake.it... laurellynnleake.stor...

The wet and cloudy blue paint coalesces in a single point behind the little yellow creature, who seems to have had enough and cries out: it is too late, and I have failed out, failed everyone!!! Below the creature is seated and holding its head. It says: ran out of, but those words are crossed out. Instead the word chosen was: depleted, some resource, the fuel to find others, to be worthy of their focus and love.

Pained cartoony faces stretch and cry on a background that now starts to have red seep in. Text reads: I am choked with breaths, unspoken words. Finally, the creatures face just seems tired and dejected. The writing continues: mangled in the craw, and all ridiculous.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 22d

"me me me", a selfish about feeling bad and being a mess, by me, Laurel. Because that’s how life is a lot of the time, you know? especially when you're disabled & isolated like me. starring the squishy slime mold with too many emotions, Poly Morphous! who is NOT me. definitely. 1/4

The cover of a zine with a background made up of textured red watercolor wash. In the corner, a funny little yellow creature looks like it has had enough. It is crying and the huge tear drops are falling away and expanding out into areas of light blue. Large white text at the center of the page says: me, me, me. And then smaller text says: Laurel Lynn Leake.v

Lush cyan and blue watercolors fill the entire page in wide and wet brush strokes, looking almost like undersea landscape. Yellow text at the top of the page says: me, me, me. Below, in smaller white cursive handwriting reads: I am hiding, I am hidden. A little yellow big headed figure looks suspiciously out from a cave-like slash of dark blue. The writing continues: Do not tell me to leave, because I cannot get out. The yellow head with narrow, wary eyes seems to be sweating.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· 23d

part 33 of 47 “Sketchbook Comic: Book 3” is my personal sketchbook, where I juxtapose my art with writing about my experiences as a non-binary, chronically ill person. re-releasing this in advance of a print run! read the rest on my website, or support my patreon - links in bio!

In this section, hands move through a yellow murkiness, reaching for something. Text starts: when I paced and paced, and said words to myself, I started to feel like I was not the one speaking.

The hand reaches and tries to grasp. We are so close to it. Text continues: I did not decide the words I said, just habits, associations maybe.

The back of a fist slowly opens and tried to reach up. Words say: and I imagined some wordless part of me, was trying to be heard. Through not the meaning of the words but the feel of them.

Reaching fingers. Slender fingers stretching out insistently. The text concludes: some deeper self, lost to those who, were too well to seek it.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· Jul 16

part 32 of 47 “Sketchbook Comic: Book 3” is my personal sketchbook, where I juxtapose my art with writing about my experiences as a non-binary, chronically ill person. re-releasing this in advance of a print run! read the rest on my website, or support my patreon - links in bio!

Loosely drawn figures fill the panels in this section, with little details in white. On this page, a figure walking to and fro, gesticulating. Writing reads: the thing is, I think I maybe just saw this on TV. That this is what it is like to be sick. Pacing and rambling random words. Some vague portrayal of madness.

A hand with a white light in the palm. Walking across floorboards. Text continues: and I have this sense that I chose to do it. That I pushed myself into this habit, as an affectation.

A figure from behind, gesturing. Then from the front, holding whiteness to its chest. Writing says: this memory of feeling like, an excitement at becoming further and further from, my well self.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· Jul 9

part 31 of 47 “Sketchbook Comic: Book 3” is my personal sketchbook, where I juxtapose my art with writing about my experiences as a non-binary, chronically ill person. re-releasing this in advance of a print run! read the rest on my website, or support my patreon - links in bio!

In this section there are drawings of the indoor environment, captured in realistic detail. A baseboard heater. Floorboards. Text says: staying up after everyone had gone to bed, in my teenage years, I started talking to myself.

Text starts the page, reading: like I think it was because of anxiety, and restlessness. I’d pace back and forth saying things. The back of boots on the ground, with shoelaces hanging down to the floor. Baseboards going around the corner near a doorframe.

The edge of a rug, the baseboards joining at another corner. Table legs. Writing says: working out something within me, with nonsense words.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· Jul 2

part 30 of 47 “Sketchbook Comic: Book 3” is my personal sketchbook, where I juxtapose my art with writing about my experiences as a non-binary, chronically ill person. re-releasing this in advance of a print run! read the rest on my website, or support my patreon - links in bio!

In this section, amorphous blobs of gray-white float in every panel, looking like clouds or unicellular life forms. Text reads: how can I decide anything though, how can I be an authority on anything. I am just.

The strange blobs have shadows on their forms, suggestions of what lies within them. Writing says: silence is so much more powerful. The implicit message, the thing that. And then in quotes it says: we all know.

Text starts the page, saying: we all know that you need to make yourself into something someday. The lumpy orbs have an almost glassy surface to them. Text continues: you can only lie around relaxing for so long, before, you need to start being responsible.

The blobs have a ghostly feeling, like they had once held human shape until they lost the memory of how to hold it. Writing says: we all know that you are some, awkward thing we are humoring.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· Jul 1

This is another one page comic I did, exploring that feeling where something important slips out of your mind. Like, a feeling disappears and you can get hints of its form but not the whole picture of it.

A four panel comic. A hand holding something that can not be seen. Text says: where. A small drinking glass. Text says: where. A column of red liquid, shaped like it would be in the glass, though the glass can’t be seen. Again it says: where. A drawing shows them all combined, a hand holding a glass of red liquid. Light shines through the glass, and everything is barely visible as though there is a bright light. Text concludes: is the feeling.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· Jun 26

Me Me Me is a selfish comic by Laurel about feelings. It will be in my store in a couple weeks if you want a copy! Our monthly mailings subscribers are all getting a copy for July!

The back of the zine, again resting in the crook of the tree. The deep colors on the back cover give a raw feeling of emotions running high. The wobbly teardrops swirl around the page, and a single large one is in the center. In the drop, slightly curved words appear, as if they were a part of the sphere itself: Laurel Lynn Leake…is a white, queer and disabled artist taking care of herself even though it is hard. They make weird art for other weird people with their partner Kimball Anderson as Counterintuitive Comics and release most of it online for free!

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· Jun 25

part 29 of 47 “Sketchbook Comic: Book 3” is my personal sketchbook, where I juxtapose my art with writing about my experiences as a non-binary, chronically ill person. re-releasing this in advance of a print run! read the rest on my website, or support my patreon - links in bio!

This section has detailed drawings of frogs in gray ad with touches of white that show their wet sheen. Text says: afraid to be sick, afraid to be well. The strange shapes of frogs, somehow both lumpy and sleek.

A frog looks right at us. Another seems to contemplate a leap. A third looks a little goofy and a lightly drawn note underneath says: kermit? Text on the rest of the page says: afraid to be neutral, afraid to be male.

Frogs look at us, their odd eyes bumping out of their heads. The pupils horizontal. Writing reads: it is these ambivalences, these contradictions, this dissonance.

A strange, thin frog. A frog that crawls up vertically. Text says: it is all of this that, vibrates unease, and anxiety, through me.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· Jun 18

Two heads, the gray holds a hand up almost covering an eye. The white seems to look at the hand. Text says: or in another sense, neither. Gray legs and white ones seem to walk, but their steps are out of sync.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· Jun 18

part 28 of 47 “Sketchbook Comic: Book 3” is my personal sketchbook, where I juxtapose my art with writing about my experiences as a non-binary, chronically ill person. re-releasing this in advance of a print run! read the rest on my website, or support my patreon - links in bio!

In this section figures in gray lines are accompanied by a second set of white lines. First a head and shoulders with a white outline of a head looking another way. A standing figure facing a white lined figure. One head looks up, and the white one looks down. Text on the page reads: I have always had this sense that I never acknowledged, that I could not have my past and my future at the same time.

A hand with curled fingers at rest, a white lined hand with fingers outstretched. A cross-legged nude from behind, and a white lined nude with knees up from behind. Writing on the page reads: that if I could have a future, it would be because I was wrong about my past. That I should be ashamed of my past.

Again, white lined figures take different but almost the same poses. On this page, they seem more guarded. Text says: and if my past was true, if I was really sick, then I would have no future. I would never be able to work, or be a real person.

A figure seated on the ground looks up and gestures, as if speaking to someone. In white the figure looks down as it pulls knees in close. Text reads: so if I just let the possibility lie inside me, that, maybe I am faking everything. Let it exist in a quantum state. Then in a sense, I could hold on to my past and future.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· Jun 11

part 27 of 47 “Sketchbook Comic: Book 3” is my personal sketchbook, where I juxtapose my art with writing about my experiences as a non-binary, chronically ill person. re-releasing this in advance of a print run! read the rest on my website, or support my patreon - links in bio!

In this section, balls of white impose upon figural drawings. Fingers, but a thumb and most of a palm lost to the white. White across the top of a head, like thoughts are being lost in it. Text says: so maybe holding on to all selves, everyone I have been, every form I have had, is part of that.

A face with a sedate expression, one eye missing to the whiteness. Legs hanging off a bed with a curled hand held above them, the knuckles lost. Text reads: maybe the normal thing to do is, to push away parts of ourselves, that we cannot contain right now.

Kimball and Laurel@counterintuitive· Jun 4