After a few days of thick impenetrable air, the skies have finally opened up this morning and the sun shines through. Though I am inside with two TSG pages worth of inks on the docket for today.
I am however resolved to step outside with a book at some point, and maybe even fit in some exercise and a visit to my chiropractor (it's been a couple weeks, not cool).
I need to get into the habit of treating my day the way I would a physical space. Like say, a closet or piece of luggage. It has a very particular capacity. Stuff it too much, and it just won't work.
Mystery Spring Packs packed and out to the post office. It is just after 4:00pm here, a little dead as a result of starting my day at 7:00am despite ending last “night” at 3:00am.
I've been graphic-noveling.
Prison Chart (a method I only recently picked up from Dave Gibbons' WATCHING THE WATCHMEN) tells me I am 7 pages away from wrapping up inks on this chapter.
But then there's scanning, lettering, and even coloring in some parts.
But after that I will only be 3 chapters away from finishing THE SOLAR GRID for good.
Feeling a little weary after having switched my “journaling” system for the first time in years. In a recent development likely associated with the unfortunate process of aging, I seem less inclined to leave the house with a backpack on my shoulders, often the apparatus of choice for carrying one of those hardback A5 journals (typically a Leuchttrum1917 or Shinola Detroit for me). Adopting instead the small and lightweight Field Notes. Together with a Lamy Pico Ballpoint Pen (which collapses to a mere 3.5 inches when not in use) this note-taking system is far more portable and better-tailored to jotting down thoughts on the go.
It's been on my mind for a time now, because for a while a thing would come to me and my journal wouldn't be handy. I've been reluctant about going the measly memo-book path because unlike a hardback journal, they aren't made to sit on your shelf, and thus don't store as easily and become a bit difficult to revisit when needed. Until I discovered Field Notes' Archival Wooden Box designed just for that purpose, at which point I was sold.
Designed to store up to 60, and having just started with my first I have a long ways to go before filling that box up, but knowing I have a place to shelve my note-taking things puts my mind at ease.
I am still weary about how this might affect my journaling practice though. What might a piece of paper less than the size of my hand capable of handling versus an A5 journal which took everything from sketches, notes, doodles, quotes, to complete stories. A sampling of my journal from 2016-2017:
San Francisco Tea Seller
THE SOLAR GRID's Mickie Stardust, who doesn't appear until Ch.5 (issue 6) which I only got to work on in earnest by 2020, a whole five years later.
The complete first draft of 1,000,000 A.D., my adaptation of a story by Tawfik al-Hakim, which itself prompted me to start TIMES NEW HUMAN
Everything I end up creating (and everything I don't end up creating) starts with a journal entry of some kind, even if just a passing note.
The Moody Center for the Arts in Houston celebrated its 5 year anniversary with an auction in which I was honored to donate a work of art to (pictured in the image above, left-hand side). The mixed media piece, titled IMMIGRANT BLUES #2: THAWRA is part of a larger series, IMMIGRANT BLUES.
#4 and #5 are in the possession of the Arab American National Museum in Dearborn, Michigan. #2 is in the possession of whoever won the bid at the Moody auction, which only leaves me with #1 and #3 right now.
When embarking on this series, I did have in mind that it's a theme I might want to revisit... forever? But now I'm not sure I'm feeling them immigrant blues no more. Will it last, or is this alleviation merely temporary?
“Mural” is a bit of a deceptive term here though—just a bit—because they are painted on canvas rather than directly on the wall. But, the way the canvas is installed and by extension how they are painted on, is all quite muralistic, so I guess it counts.
Also, a Gallery Talk with curator Amanda Hellman about the work in this video here:
It is entirely possible that this file is cursed. Second time in the span of 2 days this has happened. Last time resulted in a corrupt file that demanded I repeat a few days work from scratch.
I have, as of late, become rather obsessed with things that work well. Not just well, but as best as they're supposed to. This has resulted in a number of updates around the house; a couple of Made In non-stick pans, an electric pencil sharpener, electric eraser and mini vacuum cleaner for the rubbings, things like that. Because things that work as they're supposed to means a more efficient existence (seriously, those non-stick pans have saved me much time on unnecessary pan scrubbing).
Now whatever's going on with this cursed file really throws a wrench in all my attempts at efficient living, but I suppose that's just the universe's way of striking down and hahaha laughing at my face and telling me no matter what you do, Puny Human, you are not in control and you never will be hahaha!
There have been a few of these sorta things and it's been difficult to keep up with posting announcements, let alone remember them, but a virtual gallery talk will commence tonight at 7:30 pm EST with curator Amanda Hellman in conjunction with my work at Carlos Museum's AND I MUST SCREAM exhibition.
Back in Houston where I thought I would defrost, but no. Naturally, the winter freeze followed me here. It is on days like this when no amount of coffee is enough and I seriously consider shelling out on a fancy ass espresso machine I can command with my phone.
Atlanta. The South, where it should never go down to 0°C/33°F but is in fact 0°C/33°F. I will have to abandon the trusty electric Spin bikes I've been relying on for most of transportation thus far, on my last day in this glorious city, where the trees are tall, hills are numerous, and clubs are a-thumpin' (not that I would know, being the Covid-conscious fellow that I am).
Last day in the city before I embark on my return to Houston tomorrow evening where quite a bit of work awaits me. THE SOLAR GRID has been almost continuously on hiatus for the past six months due to a cascade of paying work, which is not at all something I'm proud of. I have one more obligation in the way (approximately 2 weeks worth) before the coast is clear for full on TSG immersion.
Today is a day worth noting, because it marks the first time in a long time that I am actually on time finishing a thing for a change.
Wrapped up my mural at Carlos Museum in Atlanta a little after noon, giving us ample time to fiddle with multiple lighting options until we settled on the most unusual (obviously 🙂).
Also: Received good news from the publisher [that will not yet be named] in regards to my also unusual treatment for the print incarnation of my CRISPR THAN YOU story (previously STAYING CRISP).
I will reward myself with a much needed visit to my chiropractor followed by a bowl of Ramen somewhere with a patio. Won't survive being outside for long however, because of course the gods brought down an unusual discharge of winter on Atlanta to coincide with my visit just to fuck with me.
Nay, I will return to my AirBnb and read in solitude. Quite a lot of solitary time this work trip actually, which is quite unusual for me but to be expected given the plague [that will also not be named]. Quite apt in a way that the book I brought with is titled ALONE AGAINST TOMORROW.
