It was the night before Thanksgiving and I lay awake in my midtown apartment, listening to the marching bands on the street below practicing for the Macy's parade. It's 3 in the morning, but who am I to complain? It's winter in New York!
It's been a while since I've done any drawing since I worked on a 26-page story for the Papercutter #11 anthology, published by Tugboat Press. It's a great little tale of dishwashing and lack of motivation, penned by punk-columnist extraordinaire Amy Adoyzie.
Comics aside, I spent a better part of this past fall getting back into film photography, mostly tinkering around with an old Russian Chmena 35mm rangefinder, as well as a Japanese cult toycam Golden Half, but mostly with Lomography's re-issue of the 120mm Diana. Here's some of my mischief:
So what's in the hopper for Fortune Cookie Press?
1. I'm painting again. Or at least, I've dug my paints and brushes out of the box they've been hiding in for the past year or so.
2. I have lots of photos, and I have stories in my head that go with these photos. Someday, a book will come out of this. Maybe this summer.
3. I've picked up playing guitar, and my left hand has become awfully calloused.
I spent a month travelling around South Korea, Singapore, Malaysia and Thailand. It was alot of fun... hung out with friends, made some new ones, ate great food everywhere, and got a nice glimpse into the myriad subcultures of southeast Asia. Here's a few photos:
Traditional red ink stamp carvers in Seoul, South Korea.
Bay2Breakers, the annual 5k footrace involving around 100,000 costume-wearing, free-loving, float-riding, fun-having people traversing the city of San Francisco...may soon cease to exist. At least in my mind, and the minds of many.
"Floats, alcohol, drunkenness, and nudity are now officially banned from the race."
I literally feel violated by this. SF -- my once and loved home -- is a place where a person's perogative to publicly celebrate in whatever weird ritual they please is innate to its very soul. If you can't have topless pirates on unicycles, then you might as well call this thing the New York City marathon. I'm sure with it being rated PG and all, all the new sponsors will love it. Big win for them. Big loss to the hundred thousand San Franciscans and other people from around the world who look forward to the one day we can all let loose and come together.
The race started over a hundred years ago to unite the city and bring smiles and laughter back in the face of the 1906 earthquake. We're going through some hard times now -- isn't it oddly appropriate that we'd need something to lift people's spirits this year more than ever?
Observations of a new New Yorker 1/4/2009 6:40:00 PM
The streets don't smell as much as when I first moved here four months ago.
Maybe that's because it's winter and the humidity has gone and been replaced by tear-inducing windchills that make the coldest nights in San Francisco seem like a crisp breeze. I like to think that it's because I'm getting used to the city. My senses are no longer threatened by noisy trucks, car alarms, and Jersey accents. It was an oddly quiet Sunday afternoon as I was walking down Madison today. I noticed it because my ears no longer react to noise pollution, instead they are alerted by the lack of it.
I've begun to notice myself saying Heyhowyoudoin alot. That singular phrase, uttered in a grunt-like, mono-syllabic fashion. I say it to my doormen, the coffee guy, the newspaper guy, co-workers in the elevator, cab drivers, the fruit stand guy, etc.
Like alot of people who like to call themselves an artist, I'm obsessed with the process of things. When I draw, I get into a rhythm. It's calming and relaxing. I'm trying not to use the term zen-like, but well, it is. New York requires its residents to find themselves a rhythm, lest be swallowed whole and left behind by its ever-forward-moving momentum. I'm keeping up. I think.
I often visualize the world beyond the boundaries of New York. I catch myself thinking about the winding highways and rolling fog of Northern California, which I used to hate because of the traffic. I always knew I'd miss it someday. I romanticize the lonely expanse of west Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico. It's been a while since I've been able to see the horizon in all directions, much less one. These days my periphery usually includes fashion stores, halal carts, and maybe a quaint brownstone building if I'm lucky.
And yet. I wouldn't give this up. Not right now. It suits me, this zoo of distractions, where everything has more than just a few layers. It's beauty and ugliness all at the same time. And it grows on me everyday. I can't actually call myself a New Yorker, not yet. I haven't been here long enough. Residents here are too proud to let me do that. But I've crossed a few thresholds. I've given directions to tourists, and I'm pretty sure got them even more lost. I've gone back home to Houston and when I returned, felt a sigh of relief as I dragged my luggage back into my apartment. I even get into arguments about the best pizza slice (Rosario's on Orchard St.).
I haven't been able to draw anything in a while. I've just started on some sketches for a new book. I can't say much about it, but it's a one-shot story and hopefully will be printed this year. Stay tuned.
So I'm now a resident of the great island of Manhattan and have been VERY busy lately. You Aint No Dancer Vol 3 is hot off the presses and Ed Brisson couldn't have put out a prettier looking book. I love the new bicubic format.
So on my museum short-list is: 1. Brooklyn Museum 2. The Met 3. MoCCA 4. Museum of Natural History
It's here! Ed Brisson over at New Reliable Press has gotten You Ain't No Dancer, Vol 3 off the presses and into the Diamond catalog. Nice cover by Kazimir Strzepek, I might add. I'm really excited to see my story in print, not to mention some of the other contributors like Dalton Webb, Jason Turner, and Catia Chien. You might notice the book is in a bicubic 8x8 format rather than the long format the previous 2 were in.
It's going to be debuting at SPX in October, where I may or may not be attending...haven't decided yet.
In any case, here's the details: Retail Price: $11.99 Format: 8in x 8in, 176 pages, B&W, Soft Cover Diamond Order Code: JUL084163 ISBN: 978-0-9738079-3-6
I can't help but saying wow, what a great film. Technically, cinematically, and emotionally Pixar's best. I'm reluctant to say I like it better than the Incredibles since that flick is story-wise so close to a perfect movie for me, but yeah..Wall-E is scary good.
And you know what? I knew it would be. Those over-achievers in Emeryville are masters of putting character into every last pile of rocks, scrap of metal, and cloud of dust in the film. And the vividness they are able to achieve with such a limited color palette is amazing. In fact, the first 30 minutes is a great minimalist exercise in film animation. No spoken dialogue, no super-flashy sequences, no epic score... just one character, great timing, brilliant sound design, and Hello Dolly!
I know I'll be buying the DVD, watching the production footage, and re-watching the movie to gawk at the details. What struck me as I thought about the story afterwards was that the whole film takes place within a relatively short time frame. Pixar's known for the care they put into character development. Wall-E goes from the first 30 minutes of a whimsical, meandering pace and then, as the story leaves Earth, suddenly ramps up to almost breakneck speed for the remaining entirety. Super-condensed character arc. And yet, the ongoing relationship between Wall-E and Eve still take center stage, and you can't get it off your mind throughout the whole thing. Bravo Andrew Stanton!
Ebay rocks. I just bought a Smena M8 - an old Russian lomo camera from the 70's that makes double exposures really easy - for dirt cheap.
