Errico’s Diaristic Journey in Froggie World

It was on an ordinary afternoon back in 2023 when cartoonist Allee Errico, perched precariously atop a lonely NYC freight train overpass, spoke the words: “I start to feel like I’m waiting for something that’s not coming.” Somewhere between existential contemplation and an admission of apathy, those words resonate a year later, intruding on a rather dismal revelation: I’d bought tickets for the wrong date to an eagerly-awaited performance of Waiting for Godot. Misplaced dates and missed performances – such is the peculiar dance of life and art.

Launched into the universe in early 2023 by Andrew Alexander’s Cram Books, the first volume of Froggie World delights in its fictive essence. Though Errico’s imaginations began taking shape on the feeds of Instagram back in 2017, it’s the luscious print edition that tells the tale of years 2022-2023. Embark on a journey of artistic evolution right from the sound of the gavel, consummately baring Errico’s inherent affinity for humor, stripped of any irony but never failing to balance poetics and pudenda.

The Rough Sketches Of Froggie World

Errico’s cartooning thrives in its rough-edged texture. Glance towards cleaner works from 2020 and it’s comedy you’ll find – one moment she’s recounting her decision to buy a strap-on over midday coffee, the next it’s the heavy ink hatching of 2023 in well-executed homage to EA Bethea. Witness artist’s spurts of experimental endeavors; you might spot sporadic indulgence of colors, or a phase where ink is replaced by graphite strokes. The evolving, ever-changing environment reveals Errico’s fierce resistance against stagnancy in her art.

The shifting steam of new events flows freely in Errico’s mold of daily, real-time structure. Highlights include “Severance,” a six-page journey where Errico transitions from being downgraded to becoming jobless. But these are no career-ending heartbreaks for our protagonist; instead, they stand as testimonies to her unerring approach towards the larger scheme of life.

Contextualizing Grief and Life

To Errico, ‘real life’ is a template to artfully model according to her whims. Her work “Good Grief,” earns brownie points for seamlessly tying together unrelated images. Equally masterful is her narrative of “Love in the Time of Anticipation,” wherein she juxtaposes the erotic and the rustic, resounding an anticipation for a soft build-up to a new year, rather than a sharp climax followed by a sudden descent.

The Autobiographical Lens

Errico’s first volume is segmented into four parts – ‘Love,’ ‘Angel,’ ‘Music,’ and ‘Bike’ – each one a recurring theme gently weaving a narrative. Beyond these immovable pillars, Errico’s world brims with daily adventures far from ordinary. Her comic series captures the nuances of everyday life with underlying themes of relationships, music, responsibility, and abiding passion for her bike.

“Biking makes me genderless,” she ponders in the final spread, “Just constant life-or-death situations (you don’t have to be a woman to die of vehicular manslaughter). My body is taking me somewhere I want to go.” Errico’s bike is physical and metaphorical; her purpose remains to be explored.

And it’s here, in the toe-crushing bustle of the transient versus the weary stretch of the anchored, that the ‘real-time’ diaristic aspect of Errico’s work shines, inciting a collective craving among her readers: to wander into the sprawling world called life alongside her. So, here’s to the journey that lies ahead – destined for an ‘unknown’ suffused with possibilities. And it’s a ride we’re more than willing to tag along for.