I am not creative with my titles when I am in a pinch. Sorry.
No posts for a while I don't think. I am on my out of the country for a little while, and that means a great curtailing in the already spotty updating of the site. I hope to have some great stories when I come back.
It's here. It's finally here. It's rushed and there's a lot I am not happy with, but it's here. And I'm not going to wait and post it on Tuesday night because you, dear friends, deserve it now.
I'd gotten into a pretty good rhythm with the comics and had figured them out pretty well. Sadly, periodically taking several weeks kind of stunted that progression. But since it's beginning, this project has been about finishing a project more than achieving excellence. I need to prove it to myself that I can take an idea and make it happen.
On that note, stay tuned for the final installment of Passable Adventures.
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Ps.
What are those tentacles?!
I made the following two index cards while working on an early version of the website that was going to be made entirely from scanned index cards. I only finished two, and they seemed appropriate for this day where I celebrate me -- in all my me-ness.
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My girlfriend Claire shares the same birthday as me. Sadly, I don't have anything of hers to link to, so wish her well in your own way.
Hey, tomorrow's my birthday.
Here's what I read in the two issues of the New Yorker that I had lying around.
Itsy-Bitsy Teeny-Weeny: On The Trauma of Swimsuit Shopping, by Patricia Marx.
I don't know why I started reading this, but it's an interesting and funny article on the insanity of female clothing disguised as a fashion article. The only sane person is the mother who clads her daughter in surfer-style lycra outfits.
Soft-boiled: Pynchon's Stoned Detective, by Louis Menand. Not so much a review, but a clever article about a newly released book. While the New York Times actually had the chutzpah to almost dislike the book, Menand keeps it tongue-in-cheek and is probably letting the reader decide if he or she wants to spend time curled up with another Pynchonian trip to paranoia-ville. Disliking Pynchon seems to be all the rage these days, with English professors across the nation decrying his self-indulgence, weirdness, goofiness, and self-indulgence.
But if hating on Pynchon is hip, I'm glad to be square.
The Courthouse Ring: Atticus Finch and the Limits of Southern Liberalism, by Malcolm Gladwell. A concise and fascinating article that discusses the true nature of Atticus Finch in Lee Harper's To Kill a Mockingbird. Gladwell compares Finch to smooth-talking baby-kissing "Big Jim" Folsom, famed caricature of a Southern politician, who believed in humanity and civility for all people, but stops well short of being a civil rights proponent. Gladwell deftly demonstrates that the two are eerily similar in their approach to racism, and goes on to reveal some rather distressing aspects of the much-lauded Atticus.
Perhaps it's my white-guilt talking, but I still hold Atticus Finch in high regard -- though I may just be blinded by the impressive manliness of Gregory Peck.
While on a recent plane ride to Tacoma, WA, I spent several hours with nothing to do. Not wanting to spend a lot of money on a movie for the flight, or a series of small bottles of liquor, I opted to doodle on index cards for several hours.
I started working on a mask design that I had discussed with a friend a few days ago. Nothing will probably come of it, but it was time well spent.
The second card had some ideas ripped off from a certain Etsy seller.
After a few more attempts I gave up on that and started to illustrate songs that came on to my iPod.
A good portion of Tom Wait's "Mule Variations" came to be represented.
After that, I doodled a scene from an upcoming project being produced under the code name "deerhead man." We'll see where this goes.
I've received some lovely post cards over the past few months, and I thought I'd add a little color to the place by posting them for you all to see.
The first is to arrive was from Adrian, who spent a semester in the land down under. This was part of his Drunk Postcards series, and a payment for services rendered.
Next up was Cathy. At first I thought this was one of Adrian's cards because the way they write with a brush is so similar. Sorry about that, credit where it's due!
The last arrived just today, and is from Kris. She is aware of my interest in blimps and returns this blog safely to the black and white world.
And oh yeah, it's almost my birthday!
