14 November 2005

the arrival of Brick 76 and what might actually be a creative breakthrough of my own.

so, Brick 76 is Finally out in the world. woohoo!

before you accuse our cover of looking romantic in a schmaltzy kind of way. temper that thought with the knowledge that the couple in the bushes are Jewish residents of one of the ghettoes during the holocaust.

on a lighter note, R and i can safely say we have made our appearance between the dustcovers of highbrow literature, albeit through a small photographic cameo.

the thrill of having something in front of me that i was involved with from start to finish in a hands-on but still non-pro-creative sort of a way, is of course tempered by the tenacious grind of constant work on a project of my own design that i have been toiling over for about a month and a half now, that is actually beginning to take on some primitive form of completion.

this pursuing of something artistic through to the bitter end is edifying. the more work you do on it the more you want to do, for multiple reasons: a) to justify the time spent on it already b) it begins to open up to you, the more you put into it, and in unforeseen ways, and c), it begets faith. in oneself, in the project, in the nature of creation.
i like this.
of course every time i open my trap to anyone to report on my progress i confront some horror that this too will soon end up in the annals of near-finished projects, due to loss of faith, loss of inclination, or just lack of confidence that it has anything to offer anyone but myself.
but whatever.
on i toil. my little project is a mere 16 pages, a chronological silent film of a comic, illustrations but no words. i look at the 11 pages i've completed (except for coloring) so far, and marvel that i seem to be telling a story. one of those old fashioned, beginning, middle and end stories. my favourite kinds.
like actually finishing a sentence.
of course i still have five pages to go (i have the roughs done for those, which has me hopeful.)

it's a somewhat lonesome undertaking, i confess. how do you relate comprehensive tales of the hours you sit at a drafting table pondering some silent narrative that is only really significant or comprehensive to you (except other people sitting alone for hours at their own drafting tables pondering their own stories and creations).
trying to have a conversation about it is like listening to someone tell you about their relationship problems, when you never liked the guy she's seeing much in the first place; you're talking across a chasm, and trying to be helpful and engaged, but actually find yourself more enticed by the seagulls flying overhead.

anyhow. it's a noble cause, to be sure, and even nobler to think i might actually, by February (my final deadline for this) be able to say i'm Doing exactly what i want to be. we'll see. enough aimless chatter about it.

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