The text of this visual novel is particularly scarce. However, it is one of the comics with the clearest storyline and the easiest to understand that I have ever read.

With the same lens and scene (by the seaside), he told the changes of the protagonist's mother when he was a child and when he grew up. Without much explanation, the characters' expressions are also very vivid. Their smiles when they were young, as well as their astonishment and bewilderment when he heard his mother was hospitalized as an adult, are all very obvious.

I was attracted by the visual language of this comic. Its material is a bit like crayons. The story is warm, not cruel. But I think its handwritten dialogue is a bit difficult for a non-native English speaker to read.

Anyway, what moved me about this comic is that the author's parents were able to maintain their love for life even during such a turbulent period, which is truly admirable.

I hope I can also get out of the nightmare of COVID-19 as well.

It begins with the author's impression of his mother who loved painting and was passionate about the ocean and nature, and ends with his mother's death due to illness.

I noticed that the story of this graphic novel was set during the pandemic, which made me feel extremely emotional. There are also friends around me who passed away during the epidemic. He fought against the illness for nearly a year and finally passed away.

I tend to avoid talking about painful experiences easily, so I admire artists who dare to share their experiences.

I was attracted by yokomizo's watercolor style. Watercolor is usually used to paint heartwarming stories, but the plot of this visual novel actually has very tight twists and turns. I also like the protagonist's mischievous, childish personality.

My grandfather was also an Alzheimer's patient, and he experienced similar emotions in the later stage of the illness. But unfortunately, he has been dead for many years.

Although the story of this book doesn't tell the final protagonist what happened, I can realize the severity of this illness. This make me feel sad.

His visual novels also intersperse various oil paintings by the seaside that his mother once painted, which are naturally pasted together with the simple lines and color blocks he painted. It's a bit like Lizzy's one, but I think he did it better than Lizzy.

However, I really like that the author uses the grids of the comic as the storyboards for moving shots, which makes it look very much like an animation or a movie. Moreover, the visual language of this graphic novel makes extensive use of black and white silhouettes, giving many characters and scenes a mysterious and suspenseful feeling.

Under the author's steady writing style, the plot is full of ups and downs. As a woman, I can deeply empathize with some of the unfair things and confused feelings the protagonist encounters in life. Fortunately, however, the protagonist has been striving for the things her loves all along and strive to live the life she loves.

Some of the illustrations inside are combined in the format of collage letters and tape, which is interesting. However, the sloppy handwriting and long paragraphs of introduction layout are very difficult for non-native readers.

I like Lizzy's paintings and plots, but I think the emotional ups and downs of the characters in her works are very calm. Almost all of them have the same expression, which sometimes leads me to misunderstand and not comprehend the actions of the characters. From the perspective of comics, it might not be vivid enough.

Due to the plot of this comic is relatively short and trivial, my attention was more focused on its lines and colors. I like this color combination.

Although the visual language and color of each of the author's short stories have subtle differences, it can be seen that his lines are uneven brush shapes and most of the colors are composed of color blocks.

*Pictures were drawn by me during the solo trip in May.

I targeted the second type of short stories, whose plots are usually fragmented stories. (Rather than a narrative of a character's life) The plot length is more in line with my current project.

This is my attempt at tools and themes

The dialog bubbles will be drawn by digital painting, but the draft will record the characters' conversations. This is the visual I want to draw. It has both the common brushes in comics and the watercolor blocks and pencil lines that I like. I like to draw lines of uneven thickness for people.

Meanwhile, these painting tools happen to be the ones I would take with me when traveling.

These illustrations are all exquisite sketches further drawn based on the storyboard sketches.

This is a story about the subtle, winding lines that appear on our skin—stretch marks, freckles, moles, all those little things people rarely talk about without judgment

The story told about the growth marks on human skin, discussing in a humorous tone some reflections of a girl in adolescenceon, her body anxiety during her growth journey.

Stretch marks are more than marks on the skin—they're quiet evidence that a body has grown, shifted, lived. But not everyone sees them that way.

My mother works in a fashion company. She's always cared deeply about appearance—hers, and mine.

When I was 14, faint lines began to appear on my thighs and waist. I didn’t think much of them at first. But my mother noticed immediately. To her, they were flaws. She tried everything to make them disappear.

Around that time, I started junior high. Appearance became a bigger deal. Classmates talked about body shapes and skincare, and even teachers gently suggested I wear longer clothes to cover the marks. My mother bought me nice clothes and creams, but honestly—I wasn’t interested.

I liked drawing. I admired strange, imaginative artists—people who didn’t care much about appearances but filled their work with wild, messy creativity.

I preferred quiet things. I didn’t enjoy parties or dressing up. I didn’t want to pretend to be cool, or different. I just wanted to be myself.

Maybe I seemed ordinary to the “cool” kids. But I never felt like I fit into any box—not the polished one, and not the rebellious one either.

I never thought stretch marks were ugly. But the world around me—on screens, in whispers, in rules about how to dress—kept insisting they were. All of it fed into appearance anxiety. And even if I didn’t believe in it, I couldn’t escape it.

So, I resisted the only way I knew how: quietly. Even now, I still think stretch marks are beautiful.