probably not- i have the worst history w/ festivals. i got a pass to lolla last year cause a kid i had a crush on invited me and ended up having a dumb self involved panic attack so i barred myself up in a porta potty in an attempt 2 zone myself out & cool off but the lock got stuck and it was so hot (+ i was dehydrated) i passed out and woke up in the same stall like 2 hours later. i ended up just catching a bus home without seeing a single show. the people i went with don’t even talk to me anymore cause they think i’m a flake. god, just the worst experience
i’m not nearly as bad w/ crowds or generally as pathetic as i was then but it’s still outside my comfort zone. plus there’s not much on the lineup that excites me that i haven’t already seen or could feasibly see somewhere else. somewhere with less sweaty gathered masses stepping on my feet
What books do you recommend to an aspiring artist?
it totally depends on what you’re looking for or what field you take interest in but i tend to think anyone in creative pursuit can benefit from the diaries of paul klee. it’s sharply written- his prose makes even his daily minutia and transcriptions of technique an endearing read. but what’s notable and powerful is how incredibly doubtful, self critical, and loathing he was of his work and ability. and paul klee is a total legend, like an undisputed master of his craft and hugely influential within his respective scene / time. but his diaries are littered with quips like “i am still incapable of painting, in spite of my sharp observation of tonal values and in spite of my clever way of determining the proper gradations of light and dark.”
the diaries provide great insight into a creative process that’s universal in a manor i wasn’t fully cognizant of prior to reading- it got me to accept hindering self doubt as an intrinsic part of that process. which, in turn, made my huge preponderance of doubt and instinctual self criticism hold a lot less credence
yeah that’s definately an important book to me, i think it’s worthwhile
les rall dens are truly the greatest ever though cause if you fall in love with one of their songs there are guaranteed at least like 10-20 other versions with varying lengths / audio quality / performance style / guitar sound / tempo / added instrumentation - sometimes it gets really fun like the one cable hogue version of night of the assassins with the sax part that cuts in around the 7 minute mark. and that’s so wonderful i wish every good band did as much arguably redundant recording of the same material over and over again as they did.
they’re just sacred in a way fushitsusha never will be ok
'les rall den bassline' i love that — also, congrats!!
!! thank you & thanks for being the only one to catch that
my end of grave shift ritual is leaving with a coffee and paper from the store, stopping at the donut shop on keystone for a french cruller, then collapsing on my bedroom floor spinning great white wonder or oz days live on full blast and letting my eardrums hum until i melt into a big pathetic puddle. without fail it’s the saving grace of my day.
How are you able to get in fifty hours of work? Are u not still in college??
nope. i’ve been a dropout/ in limbo for awhile now. i’m not sure what my next move is but i think that’s alright. i never really “got” art school or wanted to go in any case, it was always an impetuous decision i wasn’t committed to. it’s just hard to rid yourself of that ineradicable “college comes after highschool” ethos. administrators / urges of a parent/ the compulsion to do as your peers end up speaking over your internal qualms and unshakable wariness, at least for me. i’m happy to be out
i’ve taken a break from slogging through the dregs of graphic novel(sssss) development hell to work on a thing longer than a comic book but shorter than a fully articulated graphic novel about the night shift that i’m going to self publish & package by july. i think self publishing makes the most sense for me right now (& for a project this small) cause ideally i’d like to pocket enough money that i could afford to cut down my hours a bit (assuming anyone would even buy it?)
50+ hour two job work weeks with total loss of sleep are feeling real onerous lately
i noticed a group of cool mid twenty something roller derby chicks regularly come into the store stoned around 2 am to get slushies and snacks so i started making sure i had good music on the overhead whenever they came in- now in subsequent weeks they’ve started bringing friends along and just hanging out chatting in the store vibing to whatever i have on for while. there’s a whole bunch of them who come in at least a couple times a weeks now- it’s the greatest thing they’re real neat and i get to feel like a secret gas station dj or something
for the record: when you’re not cleaning up strangers’ body fluids or dealing with customers out of the twilight zone/ creeps, working graveyard at the gas station isn’t a bad gig. i’m starting to look forward to these shifts more than my main job at the book store. dicey and sketchy though it may be, i feel pretty safe there. i know how to hold my ground and i’m allowed to keep mace around since our store has been held up before. on slow nights i’ve finished entire books uninterrupted- i have control over the intercom music and can take liberal smoke breaks when it’s dead. management doesn’t care what you preoccupy yourself with as long as you: (2 quote my boss) “keep the store clean, shelves stocked, and customers happy.”
you do encounter some nice people. they’re not as common as the weirdos and drunks at 3 am, but when you do, you can usually hold a substantial little conversation with them because you rarely have to turn a line quickly. it’s unlike any environment i’ve ever worked in before. night shifts at shitty convenience stores exist within their own surreal “why would anyone shit in a urinal (?) ” kind of realm, for the most part it works for me.
i picked up another part time at a gas station working the grave shift (11-7) a couple nights a week. i figured since i don’t sleep then anyway i might as well take what little i can get out of insomnia and use it to make a few extra bucks
my first week on the job:
first night alone in the store. get a call around 3 am. “hello miss, many years ago i was a contractor- helped build the place you’re standing in right now. hid cameras everywhere… you look so tired tonight princess.” hang up and duck under the counter in panic for a second. contemplate calling the cops, write a note for my boss instead- he later tells me calls like this are a semi regular occurrence. joy.
it’s a dead hour on my second night so i decide to tackle the bathrooms, i scrub down the women’s first, then step into the men’s where i find a huge pool of blood on the floor. enough that I can’t imagine the person it came from is still alive, like someone was stabbed and bled out, but no one has been in the bathroom since midnight. i’m alarmed but there’s nothing i can do so i proceed to mop it up. i make note of this to my manager and he tells me that this too is not an uncommon sight. (?)
a sweaty teenager stumbles in and shouts “DO YOU SELL VASELINE HERE?” i tell him no, we don’t. “oh, uh, do you have- anything- that’s uh, SIMILAR to vaseline?” he rocks on his feet making hand motions till i pick up on his drift. i tell him that it isn’t safe to use oil based lube with condoms but he doesn’t listen, he buys 6 tubes of carmex and some mints. gross.
drunk guy walks in a little after midnight, picks up 4 hot dogs and a soda- places them on the counter. he gets in my face- “YOU KNOW HOW MANY DOGS I CAN DOWN IN 40 SECONDS?” i don’t respond, he growls and takes a swig of coke then inhales the hot dogs within a span of a minute and a half, starts crying with laughter and pumping his arms up in the air when he’s done. about 20 seconds later he pukes on the floor, slaps a five down on the counter, and parts with “HAVE FUN CLEANING THAT UP BITCH”
almost 5 am, i’m stocking shelves and come across a pair of socks with a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a few dimebags of weed in them tucked behind a box of cheezits. i have to call the cops. they’re jerks, i almost suspect they only patrol our area and respond to calls because they get free snacks here. they interrogate me about the weed socks for at least 40 minutes, as if i have something to do with it. they confiscate the “evidence” and go on their way with 10 dollars worth of candy bars and nachos.
i should’ve pocketed the weed and quit while i had the chance
i saw an older guy at the library this morning in a nondescript charles bronson shirt and ever since i’ve been wondering if it was for the powerviolence band or if he was just really into old bloated hollywood shoot em up and war movies
finally finished rene philoctete’s ‘massacre river’ on the busride home
a man came into the store to place a prison order for a bunch of GED test prep workbooks to go to his friend- he was very concerned as to which ones would be best at her reading level. it was tender and he seemed to be a sincere, good person so i knocked half off for him and i’m hoping my manager doesn’t notice
we got new issues of wire and maison française in the store today- another month and i am completely suckered into shelling out over 20 bucks for magazines
i gave kip a ride home, he brought tunes but i can’t drive with jazz on without breaking every other minute in fear that a trumpet bit is someone honking at me. we listened to the radio instead
there was almost no food in the fridge but i didn’t feel like getting groceries or spending money so i had like 5 clementines, some saltines, and half a quarter pack of menthols for dinner then went for a walk. it was cold but bright and i like that
i wrote down a long list of everything i need to do- every call i need to make, appointment i need to schedule, person i need to contact, email i need to write- it brought me a huge sense of relief until i realized i hadn’t actually done any of it. i’m going to though
it was a pretty alright day as far as february goes.
in short, i work at a book store and take great advantage of the ability to order whatever i want for the store without bearing the responsibility of paying for anything. i read a lot of books and texts about comics because i’m driven to make a graphic novel i’m proud of, these are just some of many i find noteworthy- b/c no one actually needs a bunch of courses or an art degree to obtain a broader upstanding of the illustrated narrative and subsequently grow as a comic artist.
binky brown meets the holy virgin mary - justin green (duh. essential for contextualizing early crumb/ spiegelman/ a lot of work in the comix scene & era as well as serving as the ultimate ideal model for the autobiographical comic narrative.)
graphic witness: four wordless graphic novels - masereel, ward, patri, and hyde (this and the former three are the best introduction to textless graphic novels/ expressionist woodcuts that i’ve come across. woodcut narratives have been so huge for me.)
AX volume 1: a collection of alternative manga - various authors (another personal favorite. but i think any comic artist can benefit from AX- it’s an amazing and diverse collection of highly stylized shorts that take really interesting and surreal narrative directions)
lynd ward: six novels in woodcuts - lynd ward (..„there’s nothing i can say about ward that would do him justice really. he was the master of the craft and i just consider his work so intrinsically important.)
TO END ON A FUN NOTE ::: wampus, vol. 1- franco frescura & luciano bernasconi ((the stupidly fun dated as hell french comic book that’s supposedly a cult classic but i’ve never encountered anyone else who’s actually read it so like, help me out here)
i met a girl crate digging yesterday when she nabbed a 12” i wanted and i got pissy at first (it was a rhythim is rhythim single :(( ) but we ended up talking for like 40 minutes and she has on point taste and and she works days as a waitress but spends her nights as a dj doing gigs so anyway we exchanged numbers and she invited me to load up some crates and spin with her some night this week then grab dinner at her favorite jazz kitchen and i’ve been internally squealing about it like all day. she’s just so cool and cute and neat and i’m way too excited about digging through her record collection than i should be
god i loathe asking people about the membership rewards program thing at work. i almost always end up talking anyone vaguely interested out of signing up- the slightest bit of pensiveness or a crack of hesitance in their voice and i shrug and offer “yeah honestly it’s really not worth the money.”
i’m not comfortable soliciting anything to anyone which is a pertinent problem for me rn as it’s a pretty vital retail workplace skill
do you think theres any chance we’ll get a new boredoms album this year? i realized today it’s been ten damn years since seadrum/house of sun. god i was actually nine when the last proper boredoms album came out. even most of their side projects have been pretty quiet in terms of output lately i’m starting to get concerned.
hey i’m really proud of myself- i’ve been independently taking classical music history courses for over a year now and the past month my professor mostly spent lecturing on henry cowell so last week i asked if he planned on touching on johanna beyer at all (as she was a pretty significant part of his life, participant in the scene he was in, and artist in her own right) and he said that it wasn’t in the curriculum which really bummed me out and made me kind of angry so i petitioned to my dean to get her at least shoehorned in as a talking point and i succeeded and i’m just so happy about it because she’s like my favorite person and maybe there’s hope for neglected female musicians to carve out some coverage within the classical music history canon and finally be recognized by the clusterfuck of male centrism that makes up music academia
cause in all honesty beyer was on the same playing field as cowell and deserves her own damn unit. but at least it’s a start.