Interview with Martin Cendreda • Illustrator/Creator of “Dang!” & “Zurik Robot”

SM: When was the last time you felt yourself close to understanding something that has puzzled you for a long time?

MC: First grade. When I learned how to draw perspective. It wasn’t true perspective, more like a 6 year old’s cruddy approximation of it. But still, it was a momentous occasion. Everything else, I’m nowhere close to understanding.

SM: What do you feel you are entitled to?

MC: Not much. Actually, I’m entitled to not be killed by shitty drivers.

SM: Please describe an article of clothing you’ve developed an emotional attachment to.

MC: A frayed black and yellow flannel shirt that my grandfather gave me when I went away to college. It made me stylish for a short time during the whole grunge debacle. I still wear it today.

SM: How would you recommend we fight encroaching darkness?

MC: Polite discourse. Failing that, mutual assured destruction.

SM: Please indulge us with an anecdote.

MC: I’m no good at anectoding. Sorry. However, one time when I was sick with the flu, I accidentally hawked a thick green loogie on a jogger’s leg. Is this an anecdote?

SM: When was the last time you kept something you found on the street?

MC: I can’t remember, I pick stuff off the street all the time. The coolest thing was a on old fisher price music box I dug out of someone’s trash.

SM: If you were heard to exclaim,”Please hold on a minute, I know what I’m doing.”, what would you likely be talking about?

MC: Having sex.

SM: When you wake up in a strange environment, what’s the first thing you usually want to know?

MC: Am I dead?

SM: What would you say to the first person who witnessed you appear out of thin air right next to them with no recollection of how you got there?

MC: Anyone for tennis?

SM: Please describe an impressionable moment from adolescence.

MC: One time in gym class, we were playing warball (aka dodgeball). I was a skinny nerd so naturally I hid towards the back, while everyone else around was throwing balls and getting hit. Eventually, there was just two people left: me on one side, a fat kid named Saul on the other. I was sure that I was gonna get creamed. He picked up a ball, took two steps, and hurled the ball at me. I caught it. And we won.