G A N Z E E R . T O D A Y

If I were to describe my usual go-to line-art style, I would say it probably falls somewhere between the Toth and Toppi schools of mark-making. Lately though I've been working on a couple pages in the latest TSG (Ch.7/#8) set in the early 19th century, which has prompted me to mimic the general illustration/printing style of the era. This has called for a fuck-ton of crasshatching and over-rendering, whereby each stroke has amounted to a stab by hairpin straight to the heart.

I would typically include an image with a post like this, but I've come to the decision to forego images altogether in this here blog (for the most part), primarily because it involves a couple of less-than-seamless steps that I'd like to eliminate. Most pics posted here are taken with my phone, before being transferred to my computer from which I upload to snap.as. From there I snag an embed link which I paste into my post. That's 5 steps just to include a picture, which has resulted in something of a barrier in my resolve to post regularly. It'd be nice to live up to the “.today” in the blog's title, and by foregoing images, all it'll take is rolling my chair over to my computer and typing away. Should be easy enough.

Instagram lends itself better to image-posting (snap+post), so that's likely where my journal-like picture-taking will live (at least for now, as I do loathe that it is owned by Facebook and bombards me with shit ads). I hear Tumblr is making a comeback since lifting their nudie censorship. I was very much a fan of Tumblr back in the day, especially because its app allowed you to microblog with ease from your phone onto a webpage that could be highly personalized. But I wouldn't be able to bring myself to trust them again.

I also will have to put Ganzeer.Reviews on hold, because that's a whole process that I just no longer have the bandwidth for. I might have to resort to folding my reviews into this here blog, sans pictures, and likely taking the form of micro-reviews.

On which note, just watched COCAINE COWBOYS from 1979 by Ulli Lommel and thoroughly enjoyed it. There are bits in there that didn't at all need to be in there, and bits that were not in there that could've been in there, but overall, I dug it. Jack Palance is really good in it and I found Tom Sullivan to be rather captivating. Andy Warhol has what could be initially assumed to be a cameo, but is in fact a role that is so absolutely central to the plot, which I really loved, especially that he plays himself. Such an odd but really special film, brought to my attention thanks to The Video Archives Podcast which is now my new favorite fix.

Friend of mine has been talking me into doing a podcast together (Yes, another project because time is in abundance obviously), the thought of which amuses me. Lack of a theme, however, has me unsure whether or not this will actually happen. Also, I'm not sure there's much of a vacuum in the current podcast-scape that needs filling, and I'm only ever drawn to vacuum.

There is an abundance of unread books taunting me from my shelves, yet my Thriftbooks cart is filled with 16 books which are also taunting me. I'm convinced I have some kind of terrible illness.

#journal #review

Succumbed to a ghastly sickness immediately upon my return from Dearborn/Detroit where a gathering organized by the Arab American National Museum took place. Saw snippets from a couple plays-in-development, attended readings as well as the Arab American Book Awards, and participated in many a thoughtful workshop. Feeling inspired and grateful to have connected with so many awesome souls, in addition obviously to feeling weak and miserable (see: ghastly sickness).

On the docket is: a handful of comix pages and a few posters.

Eager for the time to dream and meander in thought.

#journal

May there be a special place in hell for people who watch sitcoms really loud in their hotel rooms well until 5:00am

#journal #travel

Kurt Weill's STREET SCENE plays more like a spoof of an opera than an actual opera. By the time they get to their ice cream number, the resolve to hold in my laughter is all but obliterated and it isn't long before we make our exit and instead go rendezvous with friends.

Balmy night, all glass in sight fogged up. Music, drink, and nibbles abound. New characters continuously introduced without rhyme or reason. All in all a rather Clowesian evening.

That was Friday night. Sketch above dashed out at Agora's patio Saturday afternoon over an $11 Duval, followed by some reading. These days it's the newly released (speaking of Clowes) THE COMPLETE EIGHTBALL 1-18 paperback which I preordered maybe a year ago and it arrived precisely on its official release date of Nov. 1st. I'd only ever read 3-4 issues of the original EIGHTBALL releases due to the difficulty of getting ahold of them and boy am I enjoying finally getting the chance to read them [in order] in their entirety in this new format. What a singularly demented vision it presents, and what a high standard for comix-making it encapsulates.

Already on issue #7, which over the course of five days I realize isn't much for many but it is for me. Quite a lot on the docket these days. Trying to wrap up inks on the latest THE SOLAR GRID in addition to another comix thing, poster thing, and a writing thing.

The New York Times tells me of Aaron Carter's passing who I haven't even heard of since “Crazy Little Party Girl” was released in 1997. Celebrities passing isn't something that typically phases me, but because the first and last I'd seen of this person was his innocent 9-year old version, in my mind it's that 9-year old boy who was found dead in a way. That child didn't have to be brought into the world just to be raised and exploited by alcoholics or be subject to a jaded version of fame at such a young age. Been doing a quick skim of what this clearly disturbed person has been through over the past 25 years, and you can't help but see the singing/dancing ghost image of his 9-year old self in your mind's eye and think how terribly tragic it all is. How it was allowed to happen at all, all while society watched on, as we do most things.

#journal

This beautiful tome had to arrive in the mail to remind me that I have work on show at the Letterform Archive in San Francisco. STRIKETHROUGH: TYPOGRAPHIC MESSAGES OF PROTEST, curated by Silas Munro and Stephen Coles, is exactly what it says on the tin; a look at visual works of activism across time and space with a particular focus on typographic usage.

The tome in question acts on one hand as the catalogue for the exhibition, but on the other hand as a standalone overview of over a century of typography in relation to activism.

Within its pages are powerful works from the black liberation movement, anti-war protests, OSPAAL, feminist uprisings, pro-vote campaigns, indigenous struggles and so much more.

Absolutely essential to anyone even remotely interested in activism or graphic design and even better for those interested in both. Available direct from the Letterform Archive shop.

#work #reads