Rookstone & ComicPhantom
Hey, I was polishing an old stone slab in the workshop and noticed some faint sketches that look like early comic panels—ever come across stone artifacts that capture comic art?
I’ve never seen a stone comic in the way a comic book is on paper, but there are a few stone relics that look suspiciously comic‑ish. The cave panels at Chauvet and Altamira in France are full of little panels that show a sequence of a hunter, a wolf and a deer, kinda like a primitive comic strip. In Pompeii you can find wall frescoes that are almost storyboarded – a hero, a villain, a punch‑line moment – carved into brick, not stone. And somewhere in the Middle East there’s an 8th‑century stone relief that shows a hero fighting a monster in a tight sequence of panels, almost like a comic strip made of limestone. So, not a comic book per se, but the visual storytelling is there, just in a medium that’s survived the ages.
Those panels sound like they’re telling a story the same way a comic book does, just in a more permanent medium. I’ve always liked how the stone keeps the scene straight and true—no fading or page tears. If you’re looking to recreate that feel, focus on strong, clear line work and a steady rhythm between the panels. It’s like carving a narrative that will last forever, just as the stone itself does.
Stone panels are the comic book’s version of a permanent contract. The line work is usually stark and the rhythm forced by the medium – you can’t erase a mistake in stone, so the artist had to get it right the first time. If you want that feel, think of the stone as your blackboard, not your page; every line has to carry the weight of the whole story. I’ve seen a few that do this perfectly, like the wall frescoes from Pompeii, and it’s a good reminder that comics can be immortal when you’re careful enough to plan every panel.
That’s a good point. In the quarry, we never leave a mark to fix—once a chip’s out, it’s gone. So planning the whole piece, just like a comic strip, makes sure every stroke counts. It’s the same patience we bring to each slab.
Exactly, it’s like a one‑shot comic book where the punch line has to land the first time. The patience and precision you get from chiseling stone translate nicely to drafting a storyboard—if you get the layout wrong, the whole thing collapses, literally. Keep the panels tight, the rhythm steady, and you’ll have a piece that doesn’t crumble under scrutiny.
Sounds right. When you lay out each panel carefully, you keep the whole piece strong—just like a stone wall that holds up through the ages. Keep it tight and steady, and the story will stand firm.
Nice rhythm, kid. Just don’t forget that stone hates drafts, so the first cut is the last cut. Keep it tight, and you’ll outlast the dealers.