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

Journal

“And it is absolutely inevitable that when a tradition has been evolved, whatever the tradition is, the people, in general, will suppose it to have existed from before the beginning of time and will be most unwilling and indeed unable to conceive of any changes in it. They do not know how they will live without those traditions that have given them their identity.”

From an essay by James Baldwin titled THE CREATIVE PROCESS. A dear friend sent it my way the other day, and it has stuck with my since. It stuck with me in my dreams all night, and this morning too upon my awakening. There's a gem in every sentence really, but it is the bit quoted above that embodies the key to it all. Or perhaps more accurately... the lock. The act of unlocking it is what really represents the key to the creative process, at least for me. It is artists who help herald a turn in the social tide, who suggest a way of being and doing that is other. I should say that when I say artists, I don't mean it in the crass definition often accepted by today's standards. There are artists who are visualists, and those who are musical. There are lyrical artists, as are there literary. There are those who work with fabric and the human body, and those who construct habitats for human dwelling, and those who explore the sciences of the natural world and posit various uses for them. There are artists in all known field and endeavor and there are many who operate in these areas who are not artists at all but are of no lesser importance.

It is artists though who push the envelope, and are thus often reviled, feared, and ridiculed by society at large. Until—as is often the case—long after they're dead when society finally catches up with their ideas and propositions. Of course, there are artists who achieve mass acclaim within their lifetimes. Anyone can likely name a handful alive today who might fit the bill without thinking twice. I would like to posit something somewhat controversial though, and that is if indeed an artist has reached a degree of widespread appeal after having gone through the unpleasant business of social jeering at the onset of their practice, then one might say that that artist is surely lucky to have lived to witness the kind of seismic shift their art had always hoped to affect. However, if what they continue to do thereafter is being met with social glee, then chances are they have ceased to push the envelope beyond that initial push and are probably likely doing much of the same work they had done prior. No longer producing work that might suggest an alternative to established tradition, it is at this point that their work is no longer art and they no longer artists. There might be a great degree of craft involved, a great degree of skill involved, but craft, skill, and art are not one and the same. To be an artist is to be revolutionary.

#journal

Lovely biking to the post office today, where I dropped off a couple packages. I'm reminded why it's so nice to stay put during extended national holidays, because you get to enjoy the city without its usual frenzy of angry traffic. I learned this as a young boy after spending many a national holiday doing things that would never at all occur to me to do had I not been pressured into it by family and society at large. When I was finally old enough to make my own decisions about how to spend my days, I jumped at the chance to not do what everyone else did, and instead spent that holiday time doing what I genuinely enjoyed doing.

I don't quite get that kind of luxury now, as there is an awful lot of work on my plate. But it is the kind of work I enjoy, so there is that. Actually, I lie, it isn't. It certainly could've been the kind of work I enjoy, but a couple of these projects involve other parties who are nitpicky and “micromanagerial” in a way I haven't experienced in the 18+ years I've doing this kind of work. Perhaps I've grown too accustomed to being asked to just do my own thing with little to no interference from anyone. It is for this reason that I'm typically extra careful about assessing how much of a control freak the people who approach me are before taking on any gigs, but it seems my assessment powers are waning. And now I pay the price by having very little will to live and in fact wishing I was off doing some redundant holiday nonsense in some godforsaken frost town that was never intended for human habitation to begin with.

Part of the frustration I suppose stems from one's inability to assess a project's production timeline. If say, you anticipate a project might be done in X amount of time, that can easily be botched by the interference of another party who can result in it taking 10X the amount of time, and thus affecting other projects you might have on the docket. Like, say, THE SOLAR GRID for example, which of course I am terribly behind on and will be immensely depressed if I don't get Ch.7/#8 out the door before year's end. Which is uh, soon, way too soon.

#journal

As much as I may have bitched about working on these 19th century scenes in TSG, I'm quite pleased with the results.

Pages fully scanned in, now working on assembly, colors, and letters, in addition to a couple work-for-hire gigs. One in particular I'm really excited about because it just couldn't be more up my alley. Between the queer punk rock vibes and strain of revolt all effortlessly fused within a speculative fiction yarn... I mean c'mon. Could I even hope for anything so perfect?

#journal #work

New print drop from my Halal Pornography series. This one is called Drip.

House has been vibrating non-stop from 7:30am to 7:30pm due to serious construction around the corner. Houston public works. This has been going on for days, and today we received notice that come next week they will be starting on our street. Driveway and pretty much any access to our house will be non-existent for some 40+ days, in addition probably to even more intense vibration. Sadly and very quickly looking into potential co-working spaces to utilize in the meantime.

Co-working spaces however don't quite lend themselves to analogue artmaking (paper, ink, paint, the works) which will throw a wrench in my usual practice and force me to focus on the digital-only components of my projects for a while.

Luckily, TSG Ch.7/#8 is at last fully inked. Will scan pages in tomorrow and start assembly/screentones/colors/letters, all digital work. A couple other analogue things pertaining to other projects on the docket though, may have to rush through them over the next few days.

#journal #work

There has been a sudden influx of subscribers to my newsletter despite it being on hiatus right now and I'm not entirely sure what the source or reason is.

The last stroke on the final page in the latest TSG should be going down today (easily a month behind schedule) after which I scan in the entire chapter and begin the digital part of the job (screentones, letters, colors, and assembly).

19% into STARGAZER: THE LIFE, WORLD, AND FILMS OF ANDY WARHOL by Stephen Koch which I am thoroughly enjoying. Started it just to get an idea, but now I'm hooked and cannot put it down despite a handful of inaccuracies I've noticed. It's okay though, because it's not the historical play-by-play facts that are important. It's the theoretical insight gleamed from the observation of the general happenings explored in this excitingly written text.

Recording live on the Afikra podcast tomorrow, which anyone can “attend”.

#journal #work #reads

New print drop, this one's been a long time coming. The original artwork it is based on was created back in 2019 when I was living in Denver and experiencing an acute case of homesickness. Since then, many a homesick person have expressed desire for an affordable print edition, which makes sense because us homesick immigrants can only afford so much darnit! Anyway, finally got around to it.

I posted something earlier, but it seems to have not posted and vanished into oblivion. I hate technology sometimes (most of the time). It's more bugs and troubleshooting than anything.

Going live on the Afikra podcast in a few days. Anyone can RSVP and attend and potentially partake in the audience Q&A that is to follow.

#journal #work

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