#a wonderful poem which inspired a lot of beautiful artwork but it just didn’t really work out as study for me T_T

[sableeira]

when you and your enemy/rival/ex-partner have some strange soulmate thing going on

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Lou Turner

Lou Turner (aka Lauren Turner) grew up in Texas, playing music in school and at church. She remembers hearing her mother harmonizing along with everything—from commercials, to songs on the radio, to religious hymns. Her listening quickly expanded in high school and college from singer-songwriters like Dylan and Van Zandt to folk and jazz traditions from around the world .  Her latest album, Songs for John Venn, puts an unconventional twist on the folk songwriter art.  “Turner…is hard to box in, one minute direct and plain spoken and countrified, the next urbane and entangled in arch word play. She takes none of it overseriously, however. There’s a breezy lilt and devil may care insouciance in these tracks,” says Jennifer Kelly in her review for Dusted.

I tried to make this list within the confines of things that had a hand in inspiration or thinking behind my recent album “Songs for John Venn,” but I ended up including a couple that I’ve found especially pertinent to my quarantined existence and thought someone else might, too.

Dory Previn – “Listen”

I first came across this poem while reading one of Dory’s autobiographies. It floored me, then, but this video made me cry the first time I watched it. Dory’s songs and writing are so radically vulnerable yet playful—she’s got absolute gumption and guts. I love the spirit of her work and am really thankful she let us in on everything going on inside of her beautiful, curly head. See also: “Did Jesus Have a Baby Sister?”

Captain Beefheart – “My Head Is My Only House Unless It Rains”

I have an eternal itch for a marimba embedded in an unlikely sonic landscape. This song will scratch every nuance of that itch while tucking it into a tight, pining love song with maybe one of his best lyrics, to boot. Such a poignant, piercing longing embodied in that yowl.

Pauline Oliveros – “Ear Piece”

https://activities-index.github.io/1971/11/01/EarPiece.html

I’ve been spending time with my copy of Deep Listening: A Composer's Sound Practice by Oliveros since the pandemic began and has provided so much time to listen. “Ear Piece” is this series of questions that are almost smart-ass in their repetition and yet I’m always surprised at where I end up when I sit with them. I’ve started using them as a prompt for poetry.

Annie Dillard – “Living Like Weasels”

https://public.wsu.edu/~hughesc/dillard_weasel.htm

My friend Hilary introduced me to this stunning essay and I’ve since read through a collection (“The Abundance”). All of her work has this urgency to it—it’s pragmatic, but also poetic, speaking to a deeper, innate nature we share with animals. This essay was subliminally responsible for my song “But the Bees,” or at least shares a perspective with it. It’s examining weasels for how they do what weasels do, without analyzing, and how we might live in such a way. I would love to go to Annie Dillard’s church with her sometime.

The Raincoats – “Dance of Hopping Mad”

I have few words to express how much I love this song! I saw The Raincoats in London for their 40th anniversary of The Raincoats last year for my birthday, and interviewed them afterward via email. Onstage and off, they are comfortable with themselves and one another in a very palpable way. This song embodies that kind of openness—experimental and passionate without being self-serious. Oh, and there’s a vibraphone on here which connects to that marimba itch I mentioned before.

Michael Hurley – “Letter in Neon”

During quarantine, my bandmates in Styrofoam Winos and I have been sending one another Michael Hurley covers and overdubbing on one another’s tracks. I think we’re looking at a double album of Hurley covers here pretty soon, hah! I can’t think of any songs better than his for a together-apart kind of community—someone who’s undeniably individual and also wildly open and collaborative. This song was one I hadn’t heard until a couple weeks ago—the lyrics are absolutely magical and about feeling connected through time and space. It’s got a bit of a Crazy Horse vibe, too, which is really wonderful.

High Risk – “The Common Woman”

My friend Chris kindly gave me this 7 inch for my radio show and I immediately went and bought the LP. High Risk was a group of women in California in the 70’s who played with a fierce freedom, featuring Cyndy Mason Fitzpatrick on tenor and flute. This track is astounding—centered around Judy Grahn’s sprawling poem, “The Common Woman.” Improvising on a theme around a spoken poem is such a specific and spiritual task that I really respect and wanted to include on my record—this song was a big inspiration for how I approached that.

Tropicália documentary film

That trip to London last year where I saw The Raincoats also included a trip to the Tate Modern where my partner and I saw “Tropicália” by Hélio Oiticica (an exhibition that originally opened in Rio de Janeiro in 1967). That was my introduction to Tropicalia as a broader movement--apparently Veloso liked Oiticica’s artwork so much that he titled his song that, and the rest followed. This film came out in 2012, but we watched it for the first time last week (and already want to re-watch). There’s some incredible footage in the film as well as a series of interviews that provide context for this movement that I’d loved the music of but not spent much time digging into the history of. The final sequence of Veloso playing solo knocks me out!

Bob Dylan – “Precious Angel”

Stream on Spotify

This song is foundational to me in a way I’m not sure how to talk about. I grew up in a devoted religious home and Dylan’s evangelical albums speak to me in a unique way because of that. This song has a lot of intense, damning biblical imagery and language (some of which borders on comical) and yet the refrain is so hopeful: “Shine your light / Shine your light on me / You know I just can’t make it by myself / I’m a little too blind to see”—It’s that classic moment of reaching the end of yourself and reaching toward—in this case, maybe God, and maybe this “precious angel” character who might be a lover. I love that the wires are all crossed in this song. I have the 7 inch and play it at 33rpm so that it lasts even longer and his voice thunders out an even deeper shade of desire.

Beverly Glenn-Copeland – “Song From Beads”

I didn’t mean to make this a list about how great of a trip I had last year to London, but I saw this magical musician perform during that trip, too! He’s making beautiful music now (don’t miss his ecstatic live show) but nothing recorded hits me as hard as this 1969 self-titled album. “Song From Beads” has the most ideal swirl of free-and-loose playing within a tight confine of a well-crafted song. His lyrics are consistently spiritual without being cloying and the guitar playing on this song blows me away. Honored to leave whoever is reading on this note!

[everlarkficexchange]

Written by: @savvylark

Prompt 48: “You’re an Art student and I’m an English major and you keep stealing the papers for my assignment to doodle and I would kill you but you’re really cute and hey that’s actually a really nice sketch.” [Submitted by: @katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Rate: Mature for mild smut.

AN: Thank you to the lovely and talented @javistg​ and @xerxia31​ for putting this exchange in motion. @javistg​ thank you so much for being my beta, this story would be pitiful at best without your help. @katnissdoesnotfollowback​ I appreciate this prompt, I just couldn’t resist! 

I tried to sit somewhere else today. Still near the back of the lecture hall where I like to disappear, but not in the very back where the late losers like to sneak in.

  I’m not avoiding him, per se, I just don’t want to owe him, I have to admit that he helped me.

  I might as well admit that I’m avoiding the longing I feel too.

  His blue eyes meet mine. He takes the seat next to me –his unofficial spot since the semester began.

  I shake my head. I was trying to avoid him but, as he sits down, I can’t help the desire to smile from the inside out.

He’s so annoying! With a wavy mop of unruly hair, a wild side, a stark contrast to his classic All-American boy looks and tidy, smart attire. His sunny disposition is especially difficult to palate. Who’s friends with this many people? Unheard of.

  Of course I thought he was shallow, but the more I learn about Peeta Mellark the more he surprises me. His depths could fill an ocean. The color of his eyes match the soul inside. Depth. Swirling of emotions.

  The beauty he sees in the world, he commits to paper so profoundly. It’s soul-stirring.

  Upon smiling at him, Peeta gives me a knowing smirk. “Trying to ditch me, Everdeen?”

  “Didn’t work.” I fake a scowl, then laugh.

  Hmm, I’ve been laughing a lot around him. It’s unsettling.

  He grabs my papers, and shifts through them while we wait for class.

  I roll my eyes as he uses a pen to draw on the final draft of the poem I have to turn in next class.

  A beautiful dandelion to go along with my poem. It’s breathtaking.

  The first time he did this I was furious. For a moment, I let myself get I lost in the memory.

  Peeta sat next to me for our first class of the semester in Professor Crane’s lecture period.

After Peeta sat next to me 3 lectures in a row, I remained indifferent. I pretended I didn’t notice. Apart from the “bless you” I uttered when he sneezed, I never spoke to him.

I have a feeling Peeta is not used to being ignored because his attempts at communication increased. I don’t really do small talk, so his every attempt fell flat. Yet, he continued to sit by me. I gave him short answers or shrugs.

I’m focused on my degree. Junior year as an English major is no walk in the park.

“What are you, a writer?” he asked as he observed just how many pages and pages of my notebook were filled with my penmanship.

“Mhmm, English major,” I mumbled.

I’m not fond of people raffling through my stuff but, I also don’t really care what he reads.

He started reading some of my original work and his eyes widened.

I briefly panicked, ‘that wasn’t the erotic one was it?’ Then I reminded myself that that particular notebook is tucked away in my apartment.

“Woah, this is really good! You’re a decent writer, Everdeen!” He announced.

I shrugged. ‘Good’ is relatively subjective. Especially when it comes to the written word.

Peeta takes his pencil and starts doodling, which he often does. I used to think he was kind of a slacker because of this, but he gets good grades. I also noticed that at times he has paint splatters or a rogue charcoal smudge.

I remember my roommate, Madge, who is a psych major, once explaining that highly creative children and adults are often active learners. I assume Peeta is the same and it helps him absorb the boring information.

This professor in particular is especially fond of the sound of his own voice.

I look over and he’s drawing in the margin of my notebook. The nerve of this guy! As class ends, I snatch my notebook from him, and scowl.

How dare he?

What kind of person grafitis all over someone else’s hard work?

I was livid.

Seething.

Until I looked at what he’d drawn.

It gave me pause.

Peeta’s good. He’s really good!

I look back up at him, I hadn’t looked at him face to face until this moment.

His blue eyes are gorgeous and they shine. The intense masculine gaze I’m met with makes me sweat a little.  I take a moment to observe his strong jawline and the light stubble he’s rocking. The way his hair sweeps over his forehead in a disheveled rockstar kind of way. Something in my stomach did a flip.

This might actually be the hottest guy I’ve ever talked to.

“This is really good! You’re a decent artist, Mellark,” I echo his words, but my praise was sincere.

Peeta’s smile brightened. Near perfect teeth, and a dimple. If I wasn’t sitting I think I would have gone weak in the knees.

I don’t think a guy has ever had this effect on me before.

“Art major,” he stated simply.

  So I might have a crush on him, that I’m only slightly aware of and definitely NOT acknowledging…

  Unless he feels the same.

  I sigh to myself.

  Since I can’t avoid him, I have to admit how much he helped me with a class I was struggling to keep an A in.

  I whip out a few of my graded papers from moronic Professor Venia who previously felt that my poetry was “far too serious.”

  To be fair, I’m indifferent about flowery poetry.

  On the last 4 poems I turned in, Peeta drew an illustration. As a result, my poems have increased an entire letter grade.

  Professor Venia prattled on and on about how I must have found some new inspiration.

  “Look.” I point to the papers just as class gets out.

  “Great job, Katniss!”

  “My grade went up after you started illustrating my poems,” I state with a smile.

  I bit my lip and meet his eyes.

  “So, thank you. I thought this teacher had it out for me, but your magical illustrations convinced her that I have more feeling and depth and um, hope, I think she said? ” I explain.

  Peeta lifts one of the poems and reads it. A warm smile spreads on his face. He looks up at me. I’m momentarily captivated in his gaze.

  “That’s all you. This one in particular is beautiful,” he says and, for some reason, I get the feeling he’s not just talking about the poem I wrote about my favorite pond as a child.

  Back to the subject at hand. “What, suddenly my poetry improved?” I ask Peeta.

  He slowly moves toward me.

  “I’m saying.” Peeta’s arms plant themselves on either of me on the table I’m leaning against. “Maybe you found new inspiration?” His voice gets softer as he speaks. His face is so close to mine our noses almost touch.

  I’m lost in his eyes, and the way our bodies are mere inches from touching. My heart beats erratically as his cheek brushes mine. His lips graze my ear as he whispers, “A muse, maybe? I know I’ve found mine.”

  I’m breathless at I slowly take in his words.

  He’s right. He figured it out. Peeta is my muse, my new inspiration. He’s the male lead in all my new stories. A noticeable optimism has brightened the tone of everything I’ve written since Peeta Mellark first doodled on my notebook.

  It takes me a moment to register the last part of what he said to me.

  “Who’s your muse?” I wonder out loud.

  He pulls back so our eyes meet again. The intensity in his blue irises seek out my very soul. ‘You’ they speak without words.

  The smile that follows could eclipse the sun.

  Peeta reaches into his backpack for his sketchbook.

  I squint my eyes in curiosity.

  He bites his lip to fight the small laugh emerging. Then flips a few pages and hands me his artwork.

  Gray eyes, a scowl, a long braid; petite, feminine but calloused hands holding a pencil. My profile, my neck, my collarbone, the back of my head. Pages and pages of my eyes in various states of expression.

  And in every single one I’m not just beautiful, I’m radiant! I feel something hot burn the corner of my eye and find a tear there.

  I tend to be unusually apathetic by nature, but I’m overcome by emotion looking at these sketches, and how Peeta sees me.

  Me.

  Ordinary, average, easily overlooked Katniss Everdeen.

  “It’s always been you, Katniss. You don’t know the effect you can have,” Peeta confesses.

  If he had more to say, his words are cut off by my lips. I grip his shirt and pull Peeta into a kiss.

  Oh, what a kiss! His lips are surprisingly soft and powerful. The strength and intensity with which they respond makes me dizzy.

  I wonder if he can feel how manically my heart beats in my chest.

  I didn’t know a kiss could feel like this.

  I’m a goner.

  Peeta Mellark has me, I’m putty in his hands.

  His strong fingers –the fingers that create such beauty with the pen, pencil, and paint– weave through my hair at the nape of my neck and pull me closer.

  A moan escapes my throat.

  Bliss. It feels like we’re dancing or riding a rollercoaster. I feel like I’m free-falling as his lips dive in again and take possession of mine. The passion and vigour he kisses me with whispers to my heart loudly, words best expressed in prose or a painting.

  An elbow strikes my shoulder and breaks us out of our bubble where fantasies are real.

  Johanna Mason flashes a shit-eating grin as I catch my breath and try to stand up right. I wobble, and steady myself with the support of the table.

  Peeta just kissed me senseless.

  Amazing!

  “Can’t you take this to your dorm? And also, it’s about time! All of us have had enough with the sexual tension filling the entire room. It’s ridiculous!” Johanna blurted out.

  She turns to Peeta and slaps him on the back.

  “Good going, Blondie! You wouldn’t believe how many of us have been trying to get in her pants. To no avail, we would have gotten the same response from a dead slug. Only around you… she’s a girl on fire!” She leaves Peeta with a wink.

  For the second time today I’m speechless.

  I don’t know why I feel embarrassed. The words ‘dead slug’ being used to describe myself are a pretty awful thing to hear, but ‘girl on fire’ is a little over the top.

  I shyly look up at Peeta, his grin actually makes me laugh.

  Peeta has bright smiles but this one takes the cake, he’s over the moon. His lips are red and his cheeks are flushed.

  ‘I did that.’ I think to myself and can’t contain my own smile.

  Peeta clears his throat and nervously rubs the back of his neck. “So, uh, what are you doing Friday? Do you want to go out with me, Katniss?” he asks me with a voice that’s more raspy than usual, dangerously arousing.

  Instead of answering right away, I just want his lips again. I stand up in my top toes and take his bottom lip in mine. I inhale deeply through my nose, lost in the feel of his wet soft lips. The euphoria surges in waves, leaving a buzz in its wake from my head to my toes.

  I pull away and whisper, “Yes, I do.”

 ————————————————-

“All of us need to be in touch with a mysterious, tantalizing source of inspiration that teases our sense of wonder and goads us on to life’s next adventure.” -Rob Brezsny

“Thanks!” I give a grateful nod to the barista as she hands me two steaming oversized mugs of hot chocolate. I take in the cozy atmosphere at this uptown coffee shop and bookstore my boyfriend just had to show me.

  I settle into a cozy reading nook in the corner as steam bellows off the top of my hot chocolate. I lightly blow on it and glance over the rim to enjoy the view. I’m not talking about out the window, I’m talking about that broad-shouldered hot blond man perusing the bookshelves just in my vision.

  Just from general observation, I can see that this man keeps up an active lifestyle. His t-shirt does little to hide his muscular back and triceps. Any woman could appreciate a nicely shaped backside in those jeans. I find the air caught in my throat as I take in the masculine specimen before me. Mentally taking note to describe every detail for future writing purposes.  

  The man turns and I’m immediately captivated by his deep blue eyes.

  “Come here often?” I flirtatiously approach the handsome man.

  By nature I’m not this forward or coquettish, but there’s something about this man that pulls me out of my shell. Time and time again.  

  He smirks and licks his lips. I try to ignore the effect he has on me.

  He’s debating what to say, finally answering, “Ah, no I don’t, but I heard that this new author was in town, and I just had to be here for this. Take a look?”

  In his hands, Peeta holds a book from the “Best Sellers” section of the store.

  My jaw drops. I tear my eyes from the beautifully designed book cover, up to his handsome earnest expression, his blue eyes dancing with happiness. The excitement on his face surely matches my own.

  I launch myself into his arms and give an uncharacteristic shriek as Peeta dramatically  spins me in a circle. The deep abiding happiness that radiates through me every time his comforting arms wrap around me returns.

  Before placing me back on my feet, he places a sweet peck on my cheek.

  “How did–?” I’m baffled.

  Peeta waves me over to the reading nook where we settle in with our hot chocolate.

  “Your publisher, Effie, called me yesterday and told me you were making the bestseller list today!! It was her idea to surprise you!” he rushes his explanation in is his excitement.

  “You mean WE made the bestseller list!” I correct him.

  He looks skeptical.

  “Together?” I reinforce my point, echoing the words he used before we committed to this journey. I reach out my hand for his, Peeta Mellark, my inspiration.

  He smiles at my open palm, placing his hand where it belongs, in mine.

  “Together,” he answers, a little breathless.

  Our eyes meet as we share a moment, the room is filled with electric energy.

  There’s no way I would have done this without him. I stare down at our best selling young adult novel, written by Katniss Everdeen, illustrations by award-winning indie artist Peeta Mellark.

  I’m taken back to a time when it was just a pipe dream.

  I remember it so vividly…

  I love watching him when he gets that “mad scientist” look while he paints the most brilliant creations.

  I love when the waves on his forehead slip into his vision, forcing him to carelessly jerk his head to the side while he continues his work.

  I love his impossibly long eyelashes, I don’t understand how they don’t get all tangled up.

  I love the light in his eyes when he explains a particular art concept that excites him.

  How shading just right creates the depth he desired. Echoing the depths of his soul. His incredible vision of the world, committed to canvas and paint.

  My heart skips a beat as he explains the joy of capturing the sunset just right with an angled brush. Mixing the contrasting colors, yet keeping the vibrancy derived from the very sun.

  Upon finishing his latest masterpiece, his presence, demeanor, and expression are especially contagious.

  I’m so drawn to this man. He’s addicting.

  I can’t get enough of Peeta Mellark.

  After placing his paintbrush down, he catches me staring.

  I blush and look away, trying to pretend that I haven’t been studying him.

  Peeta smirks at me and joins me on the couch. When he pulls me into his lap my heart starts to race. I so easily get lost in his kisses. His tongue deliciously roams past my lips and meets my tongue, making my toes curl. His kisses make their journey down my neck where he finds that particular spot that makes me hum.

  My hands sneak under his shirt, they roam over every plane and slope on his muscular back and broad shoulders.

  His hand travels up my ribcage and lightly cups my left breast while his lips seem to find my cleavage. The moan that escapes me when he squeezes my nipple is louder than I expected.

  I’ve never needed anyone like I need Peeta. I could definitely get lost in this man for decades to come.

  Our clothes fall away. A feverish desire for one another takes over.

  I’m dizzy with happiness and lust. I’m not sure where I end and he begins at this point. We fit together perfectly, like a puzzle.

  As the waves of pleasure wash over me, Peeta grunts and sputters with whispers of affection and admiration in my ear at the point his own release. I find myself overcome with an overwhelming, life changing fact that I just can’t deny any longer.

  I love him.

  I love Peeta Mellark, with everything that I am.

  I find tears in my eyes as I cling to him. Silently chanting the truth I’m terrified to hear out loud from my own voice, ‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’ I tell him silently. The words stay in my mind.

  We fall asleep holding each other. Waking up in his arms seems to be the most natural haven in the world, one that brings the best sleep of my entire life.

  Grateful doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of how I feel to have this man in my life, to be able to call him mine.

  I have to tell him that we have come to a crossroads. A decision has to be made.

  The thought  this taunts and nags at me throughout the day, and my mood becomes more sour.

  Peeta catches on before I even realized what I’m doing.

  He furrows his brow and crosses his arms over his chest to addresses my concerns, “Katniss, honestly, I can pick up my art corner, and I don’t have to buy groceries. I know this isn’t my apartment, but you’ve never ever indicated that it bothered you before!”

  He looks at me suspiciously and waits for an explanation that never comes.

  I feel his eyes as he studies me for a moment. I try to remain indifferent to his scrutiny, but it appears Peeta can read me all too well.

  He smiles for a moment, which only builds my frustration.

  I’m immune to his charms, I tell myself.

  He leans in closer, and holds my gaze.

  I know what he’s doing, it won’t work.

  Then, he makes me laugh and, before I realize it, I’m kissing him with an unusual degree of aggression. As I nip and scrape at his bottom lip, I feel a tremble roll down Peeta’s back, and a shuttering exhale from his lips. I try to hold in a smile as I realize the effect I have on him.

  This is part of the trouble, I don’t know what to do. What would I do without him?

  My confusion comes to a head and I shove him away. “You drive me crazy!”

  Peeta laughs, then sobers when he sees my expression.

  My fearful reaction to the look on his face morphs into a more manageable emotion, anger. I start ranting about how I don’t understand why he would want me when I’m a mess, and trail off into all the reasons he would be better off without me, and why we’re so different. It’s glaringly obvious.

  I’m shy and quiet, he’s outgoing, the life of the party.

  I’m a concrete thinker, my thoughts are more linear and tangible. He thinks in abstract concepts, he understands emotion and keeps this in balance.

  I’m a writer, creative in my own right, but everything fits in neat little boxes, there’s a framework.

  Over time, I’ve also learned that there is a framework, a structure and planning, to creating a successful artwork. The feeling and emotion that goes into his creations is a process I can’t even begin to grasp.

When I actually take a moment to look at his face his hurt expression guts me. He’s pulling his hair in frustration as he tries to make sense of everything I’m saying.

  Then he takes a step towards me and asks, “Why are you pushing me away, Katniss?”

  “Because I’m just going to hurt you. You deserve so much better than me…” As I speak the words, I find my eyes pooling with tears. I stare at the ceiling, willing them not to fall.  

  He looks stunned for a moment, then I feel his warm and comforting hand in mine. “Let me be the judge of that, Katniss. I think I get to decide where my heart belongs.”

  His heart.

  I just stare at him, jaw slack, for a moment.

  Then I listen to him, let his words sink in. He’s right. I guess I should tell Peeta and let him decide.

  “I… I have to show you something.” I tell him, giving his hand a squeeze before releasing it and retrieving the letter from Effie Trinket, my uncle’s friend, the publisher who’s very interested in my writing.

  If I move there.

  She would set me up with an apartment, and I would have to commit to living there for more than a year.

  Uncle Haymitch assured me that this is an amazing opportunity. Ms. Trinket goes to great lengths to be formal and show decorum. Once I arrive, she will take me under her wing, as she takes a personal interest in the success of her chosen few.

  Peeta reads the letter once, then twice, before looking up at me.

  “Milan, Italy,” is all he says.

  “I don’t know why I feel this way, why I’m so torn, why I feel so confused…” I start pacing and muttering all kinds of things that don’t matter at all.

  Peeta interrupts me, “Katniss, Katniss! Why are you upset?”

  I bury face with my hands and yell angrily, “Because I LOVE YOU! This is my dream, but I don’t think I can do this without you!”

  I feel the tears pour out of my eyes onto my hands.

  I hate feeling this vulnerable.

  I don’t want to need another person.

  His warm comforting arms envelop me, and I sigh in his embrace. He kisses the top of my head and rubs my back, soothing my fears. He waits for me to stop crying before he speaks, his low timbre is just above a whisper, “What if we go together? I would love to move to Italy with you, Katniss, because I love you too!”

  I never ever imagined this best case scenario, but Peeta Mellark continues to surprise me. I pull away just so I can look him in the eye.

  “What would I do without muse? I can do my artwork from anywhere, if anything, a change of scenery can bring entirely new points of inspiration. Italy, Katniss!” he further explains, excitement raising in his voice as he speaks.

  Instantly, I realize he is dead serious. My expression softens as I read the love written all over his face. My lips find his. This is just as breathtaking and mind blowing as our first kiss, but with this kiss I know this is love.

  The kind of love you fight for.

  “So I might be publishing my original work, with a world-renowned publisher, and we’re moving to Italy together?” I lose my confidence at the end of my question, and it shows in my tone and the expression on my face.

  Peeta clasps his hand in mine and answers with unwavering support, “Together.”

 ———————— 

Peeta’s strong muscular arms wrap around my waist and barely noticeable baby bump as he pulls me flush to his broad chest, hugging me from behind. This is his new favorite way to snuggle me close. His hands cradle the mound where our unborn child grows.

  Every single time he does something like this I find myself a little choked up. Not a lot, I’m still the same practical, level-headed Katniss. But, damn it! These pregnancy hormones have gripped me with emotion in these tender moments we share.

  The tear I willed away rebelliously escapes my eye and trails down my cheek.

  Peeta Mellark gets to be a daddy. If anyone should have children and bring more hope in this world it should be him.

  We need more Peeta Mellarks in this world.

  I’m so incredibly lucky I get to be on this journey with him. Another petulant tear escapes despite my protests.

  I wipe it away hoping Peeta and anyone else around didn’t notice.

  “What are we going to tell our children when they find the erotic literature we write together?” I whisper in his ear.

  His warm laugh rumbles in his chest against my back. I find myself turning my head to the side, inviting Peeta’s lips to graze my neck. He obliges, my husband knows me so well.

  I sigh. His kisses are like sweet honey.

  “That’s why we wrote them under a pen name, dear wife,” he reminds me. “God! You look so HOT in this dress!”

  “Cinna,” I answer with a shrug. Despite living in the epicenter of fashion for over 2 years, being dragged to every fashion week with Effie Trinket, and my friendship with the award-winning it designer Cinna, I still don’t care much for it and am grateful he choses my wardrobe for events like this one.

  “No, Cinna made the dress, but you’ve always been the smoking hot Girl on Fire,” Peeta says, referencing the nickname I was called in college, completely unbeknownst to me for years.

  I can’t contain the laugh that bursts forth. Peeta joins me, maybe out of pity, because it wasn’t that funny. The whole thing is still absurd to me.

  Effie makes her appearance, eyeing us with curiosity at our laughter.

  The affectionate smile Effie gives me reminds me of one a mother gives a daughter. She’s thrilled do be this child’s “Nonna.”

  As “extra” as she can be, I’m extremely lucky to have found favor in her eyes. I loathe to admit, Effie also holds a maternal place in my life that I hold dear.

  I clutch Peeta’s like a lifeline. My love. My muse. My husband.

  With the squeeze of my hand Effie leads us, “Eyes bright, chins up, smiles on. I’m talking to you, Katniss! It’s showtime!”

[richincolor]

#NotYourPrincess: Voices of Native American Women edited by Lisa Charleyboy and MaryBeth Leatherdale is an incredible collection we highly recommend and we're excited to be discussing it here today.

Summary: Whether looking back to a troubled past or welcoming a hopeful future, the powerful voices of Indigenous girls and women across North America resound in this book. In the same visual style as the bestselling Dreaming in Indian, #NotYourPrincess presents an eclectic collection of poems, essays, interviews, and art that combine to express the experience of being a Native woman. Stories of abuse, intergenerational trauma, and stereotyping are countered by the voices of passionate women demanding change and realizing their dreams. Sometimes outraged, often reflective, but always strong, the women in this book will give teen readers insight into the lives of women who, for so long, have had their history hidden and whose modern lives have been virtually invisible.

Crystal's Review

Debbie Reese’s Review

Crystal: #NotYourPrincess is visually stunning. I love the attention to detail throughout the book like the use of borders and the pairings of text and artwork. The essay "The Invisible Indians" by Shelby Lisk (Mohawk) was accompanied by photos that illustrated how the stereotypes people have in their head render the actual people in front of them invisible. It made the text so powerful to have both parts. Do you all have any favorite visual pieces?

Audrey: I agree--this collection did a wonderful job of pairing beautiful artwork with powerful words. When I read, I typically don’t find myself backtracking, but I did more than once with #NotYourPrincess so I could go back and forth between the text and the art it had been paired with. My absolute favorite set is the poem “When I Have a Daughter” by Ntawnis Piapot (Piapot Cree Nation) with the piece Memories by Aura Last (Oneida).

Jessica: It’s so hard to choose a favorite -- they were all incredible in their own way. Two stood out to me in particular. The first was A Conversation with a Massage Therapist by Francine Cunningham -- I saw the picture first and didn’t realize the context until I read the conversation beneath it that portrayed a massage therapist casually throwing around harmful stereotypes during a massage session. The second one was Real NDNZ Re-Take Hollywood by Pamela J. Peters, which recreated classic Hollywood portraits with Native American actors. Both demonstrated how harmful stereotypes were in the different ways they manifested themselves, whether through media and Hollywood, or through everyday conversations.

K. Imani: This collection, the mix of artwork with the amazing poetry, was absolutely beautiful. For me, I can’t choose between the two poems of “The Things We Taught Our Daughters” and “Honor Song”. I found both to be extremely moving as both talked about reclamation of the feminine and and the power that women have inside of them.

Crystal: In “Reclaiming Indigenous Women’s Rights” Nahanni Fontaine (Anishinaabe) writes, “Patriarchy is quite simply the systematic oppression and regulation of women’s bodies, minds, and spirits. Patriarchy sets the markers and outlines the box of what we can and cannot do; say or cannot say; think or cannot think; express or cannot express; live or cannot live.” Fontaine has clearly delineated patriarchy and the colonial legacy. Her essay along with many other pieces here not only explains how we got to where we are, but also marks out oa path for the future. I think this is such a powerful text and I’m excited that young women, and specifically young indigenous women, could have this book available to them.

Audrey: I think that path for the future is one of the most important themes in #NotYourPrincess. The women in these pages are resilient, and several times they address past (and current) violence, pain, and other trials. Yet the collection always circles back to the triumph of survival and hope for the future. Fontaine’s essay really cuts to the heart of #NotYourPrincess. So does the opening text of the book, from Leanne Simpson (Michi Saagiig Nishnaabeg): “I am always trying to escape—from dangerous situations, from racist stereotypes, from environmental destruction in my territory, and from the assault on my freedom as an individual and as part of the Nishnaabeg nation. As an Indigenous person, I have to escape in order to survive, but I don’t just escape. I hold this beautiful, rich Indigenous decolonial space inside and around me. I am escaping into Indigenous freedom. I am escaping into Indigenous land and my Indigenous body.”

Jessica: I loved how everything was connected together in the book. Patriarchy and colonialism and oppression were all tied together, and then a goal was laid out of not just escape, but escape to a space of freedom and equality. And all this is possible through the strength of generations of women. I’m glad I read #NotYourPrincess all in one go, since it allowed me to see all these themes and works of art flowing together.

K. Imani: The theme of fighting the Patriarchy and colonialism throughout the book made me want to stand up and clap for all of these artists. These are women recognizing their power and owning it. Jessica Deer’s essay, “We Are Not A Costume” was so poignant specifically when she simply states “While someone may think they look supercute as an “Indian Princess” or as “Reservation Royalty” for a fun and harmless evening, they have the privilege of removing that costume at the end of the night. Indigenous women and girls do not. We have to deal with ongoing marginalization and the lingering effects of colonization, like a culture that normalizes violence against us.” I can imagine many young girls reading this passage, find their voice, and speak out against in justice towards marginalized peoples.

Crystal: This book shares so many examples of female role models. There are mothers, grandmothers, aunts, cousins and more. I couldn’t help but start to think about the women in my life who taught me what it meant to move through the world as a woman. The book invites such wonderings and offers some awesome role models. I’m eager to see the responses from young indigenous women reading this. I think it could be extremely encouraging.

Audrey: I agree! “What’s There to Take Back?” by Tiffany Midge (Hunkpapa Lakota) was all about her role models of Indigenous womanhood--real role models, not terrible stereotypes like Tiger Lily. Many of the pieces in #NotYourPrincess are about connection with past and future generations and learning from others. I also really enjoyed the piece “Living Their Dreams” with the photo spread of athletes Shoni Schimmel (Umatilla), September Big Crow (Tsuu T’ina Nation), Ashton Locklear (Lumbee), and Brigitte Lacquette (Ojibwe). It’s not often that I see professional athletes held up as role models for young women, so I loved seeing all of them in powerful, confident poses, representing four different sports, and talking about their experiences.

K. Imani: I agree with both of you. “What’s There to Take Back?” was another one of my favorites as well because the examples that Midge gave for true role models were all kick-butt women. I can see so many young girls being inspired by learning about Indigenous women who are out there fighting the good fight and are being awesome. I especially enjoyed the passage titled “Good Medicine” which was an interview with Janet Smylie. I found her story to be inspiring and a wonderful message for young girls who are struggling to know that they can overcome their challenges and achieve.

Crystal: In “Dear Past Self,” Isabella Fillspipe (Oglala Lakota) wrote, “If you have something to say Say it. Life is too short to sit in silence. And stop trying to please other people.” I really wish teen me had heard such things enough times to believe them. This is a message many young women could benefit from.

Audrey: There are so many wonderful lines in #NotYourPrincess, and I hope that this book makes its way into the hands of many girls and women, especially Indigenous girls and women.

Jessica: Yeah, the focus on different generations -- past, present, and future -- Indigenous women was incredible.

Audrey: One of the quotes that stayed with me after I finished was by Tanaya Winder (Duckwater Shosone): “As Indigenous women writers and artists we are continually trying to exist, live, and love in a world that doesn't always show its love for us. This means, part of the artist's call is to turn past traumas on their heads, upside down, inside out, lift it up then put it back down as something changed and transformed so that others can find something beautiful or hopeful in it. For that beauty and hope to exist we as Native American women must dive headfirst into the muck, ugliness, stark darkness of that wreckage. This is what we do--we recast wounds in unending light. And so, light, love, and courage are circles we keep coming back to.” It’s a powerful message, and  I find that a lot of creators from other marginalized groups have embraced similar philosophies when writing about their own communities.

[artsaveslivesinternational]

Denny Reader

  Art By Denny Reader

Art By Denny Reader

Art By Denny Reader

Art By Denny Reader

Art By Denny Reader

Art By Denny Reader

Art By Denny Reader

Art By Denny Reader

Art Saves Lives International are committed to elevating artists who use their work to create change. Denny Reader is an ASLI artist who we feel needs to be heard. With his complex art and insightful poetry, depicting experiences of his own schizophrenia, the inner world of psychosis and the ways in which Denny makes sense of this all – with elements of the mystical and the transcendence of consciousness, Denny takes you into his mind.

Here is our interview:

Please tell us what your current creative project is? 

My most current project is working on promoting this Poetry, Art and Aphorisms book called ‘Wondering Whispers’ in e-book form and getting some paperback versions completed as well. I’m also getting back into making Art again, after a short break from creating, I have lots of ideas to get down to.

This is my second book of Poetry, the first one I had published with Chipmunka Publishing which is still available from their site, but in this e-book I’ve included some of my best artwork and also aphorisms that have inspired me and ones I’ve made up myself. I’m also working towards having a collection of my art exhibited at some point, all upon the theme of schizophrenia, the experience of voices and the mystical element that can feature in many people’s psychosis.

What is your biggest goal this year?

To get this book out there in the relevant places and also to get back towards an active creative practice, creating Art and Poetry regularly, hopefully creating work that I’m proud to share and build a collection towards a third book. Also to keep being active and productive, to maybe try some other art mediums like working with oils, collage and to hone in my poetry. Mostly though to get the exposure for this e-book and to get my mental health back on track, because I’ve been mostly very unwell in recent years and I aspire to finding balance within my mind and life once again.

What do you hope to achieve with your new work?

A theme in all of my work really, is to inspire and enlighten people to see things differently, truthfully, authentically and hopefully to a more open-minded perspective, to portray my experiences of schizophrenia, psychosis, mysticism and life experiences in its raw and honest form. I believe in creativity for everyone, people empowering and sharing themselves through all the various art forms genuinely, realistically and also when needed in a therapeutic manner. This way I feel we can all connect to our deeper more authentic and spiritual nature and lessen the pain and burden that human life can so often bring to so many of us.

With this book in particular, I’ve attempted to capture a sense of change and hope in the world, expressed through Poetry, Art and Aphorisms and really I just wish to share what I’ve gone through. I wish to bring some enjoyment and insight into my work and to share my inspiration in the hope that others can relate to it and gain something in their lives because of what I’ve been through.

Tell us why you do what you do?

I do what I do because I love and have great passion for Poetry, Art, Aphorisms and in all honesty I love all Art forms. I believe that Poetry, Art and other mediums literally grasp upon a greater underlying reality of life, it gives us a greater perspective, often a different and more beautiful one. It can put us in the shoes of others, portray meaning, beauty, intellect and I believe really add to our lives. I mean, what would life be like without Art, Poetry, Music, Drama, Creative Writing? I believe it connects us on a deeper level and opens us to a greater sense of life, perspective and well-being.

I thoroughly believe in it also for its therapeutic value, Poetry and Art especially, has been a God send for me over the years, a way to express myself to the world, a way to vent, a way to translate experiences that I would not be able to in any other way. The process in itself is cathartic, even if I didn’t share any of my work, I feel that it would still have great value to myself for its ability to transmute, transform and express the mind, the emotions and experiences into a solid form. To put into form, that which otherwise would remain stagnant within the soul and mind.

Tell us about your process in creating your recent work?

Well all the content in this book, is a collection of my best work from the last five years. When I’m in a flow of Poetry writing I can sometimes write two or three a day and ideas just flood my mind, often too many to record. I often can’t sleep because of seemingly important creative ideas, themes, concepts, images and visions come into my mind regularly, in the past at times it has stopped me from sleeping and I’ve had to learn to shut this creative force out, so I can get on and do other things, like sleeping and living daily life.

Much of my inspiration comes from my sensitivity to things, from nature, from music, people and I like to think from my within myself and my soul. Sometimes when writing a poem, I take a notepad out to a quiet place in nature and sit with my feelings to see what comes out and through, many other times I note down ideas in my notepad and later return to encapsulate upon it when at home and in the quiet. I would say being still as one can in the mind, is often the best way that ideas come through and meditation can help greatly with this.

My recent Artwork, is largely inspired by my latest episode of psychosis and OCD, which has really been a struggle to get through. Voices, paranoia and intrusive thoughts have really crippled me in recent years, but I’m learning to deal with this most recent collection of symptoms and making Art and Poetry to express this.

Tell us about your past work…

Much of my past work, the Poetry and Art that I’ve done and the Aphorisms, have mainly been inspired by my experiences of Psychosis and Mysticism. Most of the content of my creative work is depicting these various experiences, of themes to do with my spirituality directly relating to psychosis and the shamanic and mystical phenomenon that I’ve gone through, ie – having outer body experiences, communicating with various spirits etc. – Much of this could be considered delusional, but I take the shamanic stance on these experiences, they are so real to me, more than daily life, they give me intense meaning in my world and have formed my outlook and philosophy in which I live my life by . Much of it also is just about my take on the trials of being a human being in a fast paced competitive culture and how I deal with my schizophrenia whilst also dealing with this mad world.

I’ve made a previous poetry book to this one, it was published in 2011 by Chipmunka Publishing, it contains only poetry and is titled ‘Inside the Outside’ and is still available to buy through the Chipmunka website and through Amazon as an e-book. Other than this, I’ve had art exhibitions in the past and have been writing Poetry and Creating Art on and off since I was a child, though I do go through periods where I struggle to get the motivation to carry through my ideas.

Does your art help you in any way, therapeutically?

Definitely it does, I believe it helps me reach higher states of consciousness, to escape at least temporarily from the binding of the human ego and all the pain associated with life. It gives me a vehicle in which to share with the world, to transmute my feelings and experiences into a concrete and solid form. Personal development comes to mind when thinking of creativity, the ability and means to express oneself can help tremendously in one’s personal sense of well-being and interpersonal development. As keeping a diary can help a person realise their true feelings and see more sense in how they think and feel, so too can Art help a person in being more expressed, self-content and in many ways more self-actualised and resolved.

Has your art saved your life in any way?

I wouldn’t say it has actually saved my life, but it has definitely helped to make it. It has made it fuller, realer, more clear, it has paved the way for me to have an outlet in this world and life, without it, I would feel ‘boxed in’, stagnant, blocked and without a voice. Art certainly enhances my life tremendously, my Art and Poetry has given me great meaning and has had an enormous cathartic influence within me.

I still have tons of new stuff every so often to process and work through, with my condition as it is, but Art in all its various forms gives me a vehicle in which to process and like I’ve said, to transmute it, express it and hopefully help resolve myself much more.

Which artists do you feel inspired by right now?

I feel mostly inspired by musicians as of late, I constantly have music playing in my room where I work and often have music for all types of moods and emotions. I love rock and some pop for feeling more energetic, chill out music for a more softer mood, like world music and singer/songwriter tunes and I’m always playing a song in my head as I go by my daily activities.

Coming to Art, I will forever love and be inspired by the artwork of Marc Chagall, with his dreamy and colourful paintings, Dali and similar other psychedelic artists, for their transcendental affect on the psyche. I love fantasy Art too and am actually very inspired right now by computer games such as Skyrim, one of the Elder Scroll games for the xbox . The landscapes, characters, monsters, music and whole experience of some console games can be so enthralling and inspiring, they can really give you a taste of a fantasy world, a world unlike our own, free from the normal constraints of human life.

Do you hope to create change with your art?

I hope to bring about more awareness with my mental health campaigning and many of the issues in my work are of a mental health nature, but also on a deeper, spiritual level, I adhere to bring understanding, compassion and loving kindness to my work wherever I can, compassion and understanding of the human condition in its myriad and many forms. I also do like at times to put a political edge upon what I create, I feel that on a spiritual path and being an artist, that we shouldn’t shy away from expressing our political views and the injustices we see in this World, in fact I would say that in this position of being an artist, that it is our place to express our experiences and inspire others to see things in another hopefully broader more truthful light, or to see things in a different way if we can.

Do you have any particular causes and campaigns your art is in aid of?

Yes definitely, I feel my Art and Poetry at least portrays what it’s like to have mental health issues, to bring awareness to people upon psychosis and what this can be like, but also hopefully on a more existential level too, I like to think that I bring spirituality and meaning to my work, not in a dogmatic sense, but hopefully on a deep level on what it’s like to be human and deeply feel things in this crazy world.

I am very passionate about expressing my experiences in an authentic manner, whether it’s positive or negative, expressed with a dark twist or in the light of something spiritual. I like to think that through Art and Poetry I can give an accurate and descriptive take on schizophrenia and also it’s shamanic element, but more deeply, just to express what it is like being a sensitive, feeling human being in a harsh and competitive society, to express the injustices and rawness of being alive here in the 21st century.

In the past I’ve done campaigning on Environmental issues and in mental health, these subjects I’m very passionate about, I like to bring an mind opening, cathartic, therapeutic and compassionate stance in my Poetry and in my Art I love to express the raw and also sometimes brutal experiences of mental illness. I love to use lots of colours in my Art and generally just be authentic with my experiences, to hopefully open the minds of the viewers and give people something to relate to and/or be made aware of.

What are your plans for future work?

To just keep creating mostly, I’ve got two other book projects in mind, one to make a self -help and exploratory book upon psychosis, it’s various cultural perspectives and also various anonymous personal accounts from people about what helped them upon their own road to recovery and exploring psychosis with all it’s fascinating phenomena.

(If anyone reading this is interested in contributing with lived experience of psychosis, then please do get in touch.)

The other book project, a long term goal is to write out a personal story of my breakdown and ongoing experiences of schizophrenia, I think this will be a cathartic process and also something people with similar life experiences and those interested will be able to relate to.

Mostly to keep making Art and get back into writing Poetry regularly again, hopefully towards another Poetry book as well. I’d also like to exhibit in an art gallery with the series of Artwork about psychosis that I’ve done, but yeah, just generally to keep creating, keep an active practice of staying motivated and inspired and put that into motion, regularly finding the energy to keep making and creating.

Please read: Denny Reader talks to ASLI about his schizophrenia and using his creativity, saying “Its gives me a purpose and a platform to share my ideas and myself with the world around me”.

Amazon link to Poetry, Art and aphorisms e-book ‘Wondering Whispers’ Chipmunka Paperback book – ‘Inside the Outside.’

Youtube Channel Facebook Twitter 

Facebook Artists page

If you have any feedback on this interview please fill in the form below:

[contact-form]

    Artist of the Month Denny Reader Tells ASLI About his New Book of Poetry, Art and Aphorisms ‘Wondering Whispers’ Art Saves Lives International are committed to elevating artists who use their work to create change. Denny Reader is an ASLI artist who we feel needs to be heard.

[iheartadverbs]

Expansively.

My wonderful warm dog is curled up beside me. We are in the process of retraining him with regards to furniture, after investing in rugs and ramps and of course, SURGERY, and since I hate not sitting next to my dog on the couch, I’ve pulled one of the couch cushions off and am slouched on the floor next to him. We are also training the “quiet” command, which is working at least fifty percent of the time.

Today was a glorious, solitudinous day. PY is in Boston as of 4AM this morning. I woke up without the aid of an alarm after a solid eight-hours of sleep. I am happy that I am, at long last, recalibrated. I spent so much of this summer recovering from the agonies of spring. I had all these grand plans of reading books and writing books, and I have only read poems since the middle of June. But the days have been full and busy, and today felt like an exhale.

I have been experimenting with new low-carb baking recipes, so this morning I started the day by whipping up some flaxseed muffins. Next time, I think I’d add more berries or more sweetener, but they exist and I ate two, so success! I love baking, new recipes, and good food.

After breakfast, I finished uploading the final photos for the wedding that I photographed last weekend. What, you didn’t know I do wedding photography? That’s because I don’t. But I did. And although it was an amazingly, unexpectedly stressful weekend, I am proud of the work that I did and the beautiful moments that I captured. I don’t know if this could ever be a side gig, but it’s something I’m happy to do in a pinch (in fact, the exact circumstances under which I was solicited). 

Aside from a quick jaunt back to the airport to pick up PY’s laptop (the perils of traveling with a foggy, tired brain), I spent the entire day completing the artwork for the children’s book that I was inspired to make based on a Pablo Neruda poem that I stumbled across while I was reading old journal entries. I am so incredibly pleased with this I can’t tell you. I mean, I feel like I’m constantly inspired to do beautiful, creative things, but I usually just think, “Oh, that would be awesome” and then I don’t do them. I decided to just embrace my inner dilettante and not obsess about it being perfect. So it isn’t perfect, but it exists, and it is beautiful. I can’t wait to make copies for all my friends with children who I think will appreciate a book based on a Neruda poem which only vaguely encourages children to climb ladders and use power tools (in a metaphorical sense, so it’s OK, I think).

I got so wrapped up in my project that I completely forgot to eat dinner, but because we had leftovers, I went ahead and microwaved a small portion and ate while I watched John Oliver being silly.

And obviously, I took a break making art when the new episode of GoT came on! I love this season, but I have a feeling that everyone is going to die really soon.

Today I’ve only talked to PY, Timmy (who is a dog), Alexa (who is a robot), and the nice lady at the Lost & Found who gave me PY’s laptop (and briefly, the man sitting in the front part of her office who told me that I should talk to her -- he seemed like he got interrupted a lot, being that his office is in the office in front of Lost & Found but was actually not the Lost & Found). 

I also cleaned everything that I made dirty, and also took a shower, and also listened to every song Gordi has ever published on Spotify over and over again on repeat.

I don’t know why I felt possessed to say something, but I feel like it’s just been a long time coming home to myself. Today I feel expansively like myself, and shockingly, I like it.

[admesser]

Hello everyone!

To kick off my new series of interviews with authors, artists, and creators, I want to introduce you to Seth Greenwood and Angela Zhang.  I have been following their work for a couple of years now, and find the story intriguing and the artwork incredible.

Seth Greenwood

Angela Zhang

1) Please discuss your creative background. Who are you, and how did you get involved with your art?

SG: I would love to tell you some quirky little story of how I got involved in writing comics. But I am afraid the answer is very simple. I was a dreamer, a poet, and a blogger when I traveled to South Korea to live for a year. One of my co-workers kept telling me about all of these ideas he wanted to make into comics. At that time I was 27 or so and I didn’t know the first thing about comics, and to be honest I had never even read my first comic book. I was always into reading novels and watching films. You might even say that I was disinterested but I believe I finally decided to do it because a friend needed my help and I felt I had the ability to make it happen. Stories are stories, right? So when I said yes, I jumped into research head first. I learned how to write, and format scripts. I started reading many comics from the past and present, and ultimately I started writing my first script for a P.A. piece called “Covenant”.

AZ:  While I didn’t realize it back then, I was making wordless comics on the back of my mom’s PhD thesis drafts since I was 7 years old. When I grew up,  I thought academia and teaching were the only viable career paths for artists. So I ended up going to art school and then completed a master’s in Art History. I realized that reading theory and writing about art really wasn’t my thing. I ended up working in administration full time for a while. It was during this time that I discovered there are people who will pay you to draw if you were good enough. So I kept working on my art on the side. (I spent a whole year waking up at  5AM before work to practice drawing and I am NOT a morning person hahaha!) In 2014, I quit my job to pursue freelance illustration. It’s been hard, to say the least, but no doubt creatively rewarding. So far I’ve done storyboards, concept art, architecture illustration, product design, book covers and of course comics!

2) How did you two meet and collaborate on the Gale Project?

SG: Long story short? “Covenant” never happened. I decided to try my hand at screenwriting since I had such a bad first experience. I realized quickly that even with the best of friends, partnerships can be very difficult to maintain. One night I posted a snippet from one of my screenplays on a blog and tweeted the link. I never expected to get a reaction but that script reeled in one of my favorite artists to this day! Angela Zhang tweeted me and said that she liked my style and to contact her if I ever wanted to do a noir style comic. I didn’t know if this was an empty gesture, but I immediately replied that I knew just the story for us. The rest is history. Angela and I have known each other for a little over 3 years now and we have been moonlighting Gale ever since.

AZ: My big dream has been to make a long-running comic series. But I’m not a writer.  As an adult,  I really got into comics through the works of Craig Thompson (Blankets) and independent creators like Rich Barrett (Nathan Sorry), Lora Innes (The Dreamer) and Jason Brubaker (reMIND). The first comic that I posted online was a realistic, drama that focused on character acting, mood and atmosphere.  I didn’t think anyone else would be into this kind of story until I came across Seth’s writing online. He has a knack for natural dialogue and I can imagine his character’s emotions through their words. I honestly didn’t think anything would come out of our tweets. But it was his persistence and speed that convinced me, yes, this guy wants to make a comic as much as I do.

3) What is the inspiration for Gale?

SG: Oh wow! A lot! The idea of Gale, whether I knew it or not, first started to form in 10th grade when I wrote a free verse poem about a man at his father’s funeral who had obviously been murdered for some mysterious reason. The rest of the story comes from my experience with the world that I grew up in. The things I noticed that were beautiful on the outside were actually rotting on the inside. I started writing about those things you don’t introduce yourself with and immediately start talking about. Politics, civil rights, class consciousness, you name it. It’s all in Gale, in a quasi-dystopian alternate reality. I don’t intend to present my solution to these issues in Gale. In the end, it is a fictional story that will hopefully both entertain and inspire.

AZ: In terms of art, Seth and I met over Skype where he would describe his vision. Gale’s world is a mix of the old and new in American culture. The vehicles and architecture are based on 1940s design and they coexist with our everyday technology, like cell phones and laptops. When we visit Ned Norman’s mansion, there’s a touch of gothic horror. I researched Hollywood movies between the 1930s and 1950s. My library has a collection of classic films. I would rent Hitchcock and Dracula to see how directors in those days composed dramatic shots, knowing that the output would be in black and white.

4) Please describe the visualization process from script to screen. How do you imagine it as a writer, and how do you imagine it as an illustrator?

SG: Would it sound too unreal if a lot of what Angela does is almost exactly how I see it in my head. It’s almost as if she downloaded my brain onto a Wacom Tablet. But the process is much harder than that! It’s why I am the writer and she is the artist. Every once in a while she will suggest something and most of the time it makes it better or translates better to the comic medium. One thing that I had a problem doing at first, was getting out of the habit of writing scenes and getting into the habit of writing still panels. Angela did a wonderful job showing movement and expression.

AZ: I’m grateful that Seth trusts me and gives me a lot of creative freedom to put his words into comic form. We have  over 50 posts on our Patreon blog detailing the process from script to panel (collecting reference, thumbnailing, layout, word bubbles etc.) To be honest, these days I don’t even think about my process, because drawing Gale has become more intuitive for me. I think what lead to this magical understanding between Seth and I is that we’ve built a solid friendship. If you get to know Seth, you will see that he’s truly caring and generous. We chat almost every day. Seth sends me photos, writing and videos related to Gale and we talk about life too. The more that I think about it, our conversations allow me to have a better understanding of where Seth is coming from and deeper insight into the characters and the world of Gale.

5) Talk about the heart of Gale’s storyline. What challenges does it face?

SG: Angela may want to elaborate, but I believe this sums up the storyline.:

Gale is a drama, mystery and suspense story that draws inspiration from film noir. Rookie attorney Gale Norman is determined to seek out the truth behind his father’s mysterious death. As Gale’s suspicions grow, buried memories of his mother’s disappearance resurface and he refuses to hide from his dark past. With the help of his childhood friend, Laurie Gambill, Gale attempts to solve a seemingly ordinary mystery that may eventually lead him in a downward spiral. Will he uncover the truth to his parent’s demise or will he become further entangled in a web of lies?

As far as challenges? Well here recently my life has been unpredictable. Being a full-time soldier in the US Army and trying to write, update social media and maintain a valuable connection with our audience has been hard to say the very least. We have had to try to remain very flexible. I have had to re-dedicate myself over and over again. It’s something that plagues me but at the same time it is something I can’t and won’t leave.

AZ: Making the characters relatable is one of the challenges that Seth and I are always thinking about. At first, I had a hard time describing Gale to people because the story has many layers. Gale also comes from a wealthy upbringing which is pivotal to the story but  I can’t relate to it.  After I completed the scene where Gale kisses his childhood friend Laurie, I started relating to them in a real way. I thought about how the 20s is an interesting period to explore the loss of innocence. Unlike adolescence, the loss is more of intellectual awakening. In Gale’s case, it’s about dealing with death, discovering the truth about his past, getting friend-zoned by the only one he trusts and feeling alone in the world. As the series progresses, Gale gets caught up in more and more unbelievable situations. I think as long as we’re grounding the story in an emotional truth we’ll overcome the challenge of making the characters relatable.

6) What are some difficulties you have experienced with the project and how did you overcome them?

SG: I’m glad you said “some”! Let’s see here. The decision to publish Gale independently was not always considered. We did that when we realized the publisher would really not have much more to offer us and we wanted complete freedom for the project.

Angela had issues with me not being patient and almost jumping the gun a couple of times before we were ready. That is just me. I am a little too ambitious at times. She was always the voice of reason when it came to the business side of things. A lot of times she had to pull my head out of the clouds.

We have had to push back launch dates because of our day jobs and we have had to cancel convention appearances for the same thing. The way we overcome obstacles is to keep pressing on, remain flexible, and continue to create this wonderful story that’s brought so many people together. It’s persistence, more than anything, it is always persistence.

AZ: I think Seth and I have an interesting dynamic that I’ve come to appreciate. In the beginning, we had a bit of friction because we didn’t understand our working styles. I have to think things through from all sides, create a plan and put a process in place to execute. Seth, on the other hand, will act immediately when he gets an idea. I don’t think Gale would have the following it does today without Seth’s fearlessness, tenacity and enthusiasm to try new things. However, self-publishing a comic to our standards of quality has a lot of finer details that require time and planning. What I love about Seth is that he’s open to feedback, he’s always willing to improve and that inspires me to do the same.

On a personal side, I was very slow at drawing Gale pages in the beginning. It would take me a month to finish a page. Seth probably worried at some point whether I was cut out for this job and he’s been really flexible and patient with the project. Some people told me I should simplify my art for comics. But I pushed myself to keep going in the style I have for Gale and I reinvented my process along the way. I’ve learned that just because you have an ounce of talent, it doesn’t entitle you to anything except hard work. Now I can produce 3-4 pages a month alongside my full-time work.

7) Please discuss your creative process. Do you follow a schedule? Set deadlines? How do you get the creative juices flowing for your project?

SG: I am chaotic! Ask my wife. Despite my military experience, I can be somewhat all over the place. The reason why Angela is much more than the artist and she carries the title co-creator is because she keeps me on point. She keeps us on schedule. I write when I am inspired, I send notes to Angela and forget to save them in the shared file so she does it for me. If it was not for her I wouldn’t have come this far. No other artist would have taught me how to maintain good order in this line of work.  As for creative juices? I read books, watch some character driven NETFLIX shows, and study people and cultures. I love Sociology, Anthropology, and Psychology. One thing that is most important in this process, however,  is reading. To be a great writer, you have to be a reader first!

AZ: I actually have a militaristic approach when it comes to creativity. If you’ve ever read The War of Art by Steven Pressfield, you’ll get where I’m coming from. In the past, I’ve struggled with time management and it has a lot to do with fear and procrastination. I now manage and track my creative time through a pomodoro app. It’s basically an interval timer that alternates between a work and break period. When that whistle sounds for the work interval I’m not checking email or rummaging through social media. The app allows you to export an excel spreadsheet so you can see how long you spent on a task or project. I base my schedule and deadlines around the data and strive to be more efficient over time.

On the other end of the spectrum, I think it’s important for artists to recharge their creative juices to prevent burnout.  Although I’m rigid and structured during projects, I’m the complete opposite when it comes to downtime. I like going for aimless walks, cooking, watching movies, reading manga, and comics and playing video games with my fiancé (who by the way has been super supportive of Gale).

8) What is in store for Gale? When will it be released?

SG: I don’t want to steal Angela’s thunder. Most of this is her brilliance. I will let you take the reigns for this, co-creator!

AZ: As Seth mentioned, we’re going the self-publishing route and playing the long game of making a series one page at a time. Instead of releasing Gale when it’s all done, we’re inviting people to follow our journey of making comics by sharing the process, what we’ve learned through trial and error and how we’re constantly striving to improve. I think that’s more fulfilling for us creators to relate to readers every step of the way then just popping up one day and saying ‘hey here’s  our product, buy it.’

Last fall we completed Chapter 1: The Calm and launched it on Webtoon and we’re also currently posting it panel by panel on Instagram. We’re halfway through Chapter 2: Storm Chaser and aiming to finish it by the end of this year. Next year, we’re going to explore Kickstarter as well as comic book conventions.

9) Do you have anything you would like to add to the article?

AZ:  I want to thank anyone who took the time to read our interview. Although we’re small and at the beginning of our journey, I’m super grateful and touched by all the support that Gale has received.  I also want to give huge thanks to the Savannah Quill for having us and putting all of this together. I deeply appreciate this opportunity to share our thoughts and  process

SG: Same as Angela, thanks! Also, look out for Gale on Webtoon and make sure you stay tuned for a short we have contributed to Red Stylo Media’s newest upcoming anthology; a collaboration of artists and writers paying tribute to the band, Forence + The Machine entitled “Cosmic Love”. The Kickstarter for the main print run will launch sometime this Fall. Just look for the announcement on IG “Stories” or on Twitter!

www.thegalecomic.com

IG: www.instagram.com/thegalecomic/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/thegalecomic

Webtoon: http://tiny.cc/mnwrxy

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/galecomic

©2019 Adam Messer. All Rights Reserved.

Inside the minds of The Gale Comic creator and artist. #indie #author #comicbook #artist #adammesser #sethgreenwood #angelazhang #thegalecomic www.adammesser.net Hello everyone! To kick off my new series of interviews with authors, artists, and creators, I want to introduce you to Seth Greenwood and Angela Zhang. 

[luninosity]

One more thank-you short fic, for @whowaswillbe, who requested “ yoga seb, I'd love to see it being before they get together -- Chris being completely transfixed by this gorgeous creature (and who could blame him?)”. I don’t really know *that* much about yoga, but they are both (relative) beginners here in any case, so...have some first-meeting Evanstan fluff!

##

Chris should be good at yoga. In theory. Given his flexibility.

 He wobbles. Trying to do something called mountain pose. He’s not a good mountain. Or whatever.

 He’s done gymnastics and ballet and improv theater classes. He knows how to move. Or he’s always more or less thought so.

 He’s aware that this is not enough.

 He’s also aware that at least half his problem, if not more, involves the utterly beautiful man just in front and slightly to the right of him. The man has duckling-soft brown hair, infinite legs, and an ass that exists in a state of loveliness which cannot be defined by words.

 He wobbles again. They change poses—the instructor’s nice but relentless, making them keep up, though with consideration for everyone’s introductory level of skill—and get into something called downward dog, which makes Chris think about his own dog and Dodger trying to climb all over him when he’d been doing push-ups a few days ago, and then he wonders if the beautiful man in front of him likes dogs, and if so whether he’d like Chris’s dog specifically, and Chris’s house, and—

 This is almost certainly not a calm and flowing state of mind.

 The beautiful man moves much more easily than Chris; they’re both here in this beginning class, but he’s clearly been coming longer. He knows someone else in the class, and that person knows the instructor; Chris had seen them come in, laughing, teasing each other. He’s got the vague impression that they’re gym buddies who drop into a friend’s session occasionally for some balancing-out of workouts: a need for a type of practice that’s soothing, meditative, revitalizing. The friend’s a personal trainer or something; Chris has seen him around the gym.

 Chris himself is here because he’d thought it might be a helpful idea. His anxiety’s been acting up a bit—first big political initiatives, first year as a congressman, first year trying his hardest to go from being a moderately successful actor-director to a steward of the future. He thinks he’s doing okay sometimes, but then sometimes he panics about his own inexperience and critical comments, which fortunately haven’t been that critical. Mostly the commentators and pundits’re waiting to see how he does with this arts funding program, he guesses.

 He’d thought yoga might soothe jangled nerves. Might get him out of his head and into his body: relaxed but focused, present and grounded.

 He’d been half right. He’s certainly focused on someone’s body.

 They do a few more poses. Bending, stretching. He gets into a kind of rhythm. Good if unfamiliar working of muscles. Contemplation of breath and movement. Occasional glances at the living artwork practicing an inverted pose in front of him. Chris’s brain becomes stuck on that sight, and even though he normally can do a near-flawless handstand—thank you, gymnastics—his mind and desires and instant arousal all collude and collide to make him flop over into an ungainly heap.

 The beautiful man actually turns around. Grey eyes. Grey-blue, like opals, like precious stones framed by tiny laughter-lines and delicious cheekbones. Chris Evans, who hasn’t drawn much lately—no time, no inspiration, too drained at the ends of long meetings—wants to put pencil to paper. Instead he sprawls there on his mat and cannot think of a single thing to say.

 The man smiles at him, not without concern, probably because Chris is still lying in place in an unimpressive pile of limbs.

 Their instructor arrives to help. Chris sighs and pays attention and then applies his skill and kicks his way into a wonderful, stunning, effortless, hopefully dazzling handstand.

 He’s facing the wrong way. He can’t tell whether those jewelry-box eyes are even seeing him.

 They flop down into a closing meditation pose, lying on the floor. The air tastes faintly of spice and afternoon warmth; the music’s not something he knows, but it’s tranquil now. The floor’s hard under his mat, but in a good way: he feels good, he realizes slowly.

 With or without those pretty eyes watching him: he does feel good.

 He’s gotten out of the office. He’s spent an hour not worrying about his political inadequacies or self-doubt. He’s pushed himself to try something new, and his body’s humming in a satisfied kind of way. And he’s seen a lovely person, and that’s a sort of appreciation without pressure: like gazing at a painting, reading a certain line of a poem, knowing the world’s better for that extra bit of beauty in it.

 Of course he’s telling himself that. He does mean it. But he would also like to get to know that particular bit of beauty. Someone who turned around to help him, who smiled at him after clumsiness.

 He opens his eyes and sits up. The class is ending; everyone gathers up things, pauses to chat, mills around. The pretty-eyed man and his personal trainer friend are talking to the instructor. Not looking his way.

 Chris gives a small wistful mental shrug, and takes a step toward the door and his life.

 “Hey.” A footfall, a breathless syllable. Chris turns. Those eyes. Right there. “Hi,” the man says, now blushing a little for no discernable reason. He’s even more adorable up close: somehow shy and sweet and brave simultaneously.

 Chris likes shy and sweet and brave.

 “You, um, you’re actually good at handstands?” the man tries, in a tone that’s already biting its lip at its own awkward determination. “I mean, I saw you—I mean I wouldn’t’ve guessed that you—oh fuck I didn’t mean it like that, just because you’re a politician, I’m sure you can do a lot of physical flexible things too—I did not mean that the way it sounded, I’m so sorry. I just. I don’t know. I wanted to. Say hi.”

 “Hi,” Chris says dazedly. Gorgeous, tripping over words, worried about insulting him, and capable of hearing his own innuendo. Amazing. Wonderful head to toe. “You, um, you know who I am?”

 “I’ve followed your career for ages. As an actor, when you started directing—I love Before We Go, it’s so poignant—and when you started getting more political…” The man’s cheeks are pink but he’s holding Chris’s gaze, not ducking away. “I’m Sebastian. I’m trying not to be weird, I swear. Only I’m a writer so it’s kind of a job description. Being weird. Oh god, sorry again, what are words.”

 “Sebastian,” Chris repeats, an echo because he can barely think of anything else. Only Sebastian. He offers his hand. Sebastian takes it.

 Their fingers meet, in a sunlit yoga studio, surrounded by ebbing students and buoyant exertion.

 “You’re a writer?” Sebastian’s hand’s warm. Long fingers. Graceful in a baby-colt way, matching the endless legs, the exuberant hair. Neither of them has let go. “What do you write?”

 “Um.” Sebastian looks at their hands. This is no longer a handshake by any reasonable definition. Chris has unconsciously begun rubbing a thumb over that soft skin: exploring, gentling, instinctively being an anchor for babbling words. They both seem fine with this. “Technically I’m a professor? Rutgers. Creative writing. But I’m on sabbatical. Working on the next novel. Or completely failing to work on the next novel. I thought yoga might help. It’s about Mars. Science fiction.”

 Sebastian’s some sort of genius novel-writing prodigy of a professor, Chris concludes. Nothing short of a phenomenon. Extraordinary beauty, kindness, intellect, and breathtakingly earnest acquiescence to care. “What do you think about the, um, seven new exoplanets and the possibility of actual water and ocean life?”

 Sebastian’s eyes light up.

 Chris grins. “Same.”

 “Would you…” Sebastian takes a deep breath, glances at their hands again, and goes with, in a nervous endearing rush, “…want to grab Starbucks and talk about, um, handstand technique and space oceans with me?”

 “Sebastian,” Chris says very gravely, answering the sparkle in that joyous grey-blue gaze, “I would absolutely love to buy you Starbucks and talk about handstands and yoga and terraforming and space oceans,” which is true, true like a blinding rush of light, like the first glimpse of the rest of his life, like Sebastian’s smile.

[tonguetiedmag]

(transcript)

ISAAK: Hey guys, this an interview for Tongue Tied Magazine. My name is Isaak Frank, literary editor. This is Liliana Erickson, aspiring professional poet. Do you want to say hello?

LILIANA: Oh hey, [laughter] I didn't know if you were done.

ISAAK: No worries. So, a whole bunch of these questions have to do with mental illness in terms of writing – and  the cost of that, the effect of that on your work. If anything, at any point, is too personal or uncomfortable for you to answer, just say so and we will move on.

LILIANA: Okay, I ... nothing is too personal. I really don't care.

ISAAK: [laughter] Okay, wonderful. I'm glad to hear. So when did you first decide to have yourself diagnosed for mental illness?

LILIANA: It was actually ... mid way through first year of university. I had struggled with mental illness my entire life. But, honestly, I was just too ashamed of it to actually face it.But then when it started having an actual impact on my academic ... school work, and stuff like that, that's when I decided to actually .... you know, do something about it.

ISAAK: Well, good for you. It's very strong of you.

LILIANA: Yeah. [laughter]

ISAAK: How do you feel that depression, or mental illness in general, has affected your writing style or writing goals?

LILIANA: I think it's actually the biggest thing that influences my writing. Because, I think the vast majority of what I write about ... is kind of ... my experience dealing with people. And kind of feeling completely out of place. So, a lot of what I write .... it comes across as kind of surreal. But it's really trying to describe what I'm feeling when I'm trying to interact with other people. So I think my writing wouldn't be what it is without my mental illness ... which is good and bad.

ISAAK: Well it's a good thing that you've decided to put that out to the world.

LILIANA: Yeah, I guess so.

ISAAK: So moving on from that question right into the next one: do you feel that sadness or depression is important to writing and artwork.

LILIANA: No. As much as mental illness has actually ... you know, been a source of inspiration for my writing, it has also really hindered my ability to actually ... do stuff. Like, it's actually kind of frustrating when people talk about tortured geniuses like Sylvia Plath, Kurt Cobain, Van Gogh ... and how, you know, people say that their depression or their sadness was integral to their work, when it's one of the things that holds me back more than anything.

ISAAK: Well, you know I sent you some of the questions I would be asking before the interview, so you know that's one of the questions coming up. Are masterpieces such as Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh, The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, and The Great Gatsby worth their cost in human suffering. It sounds like you don't think so?

LILIANA: Honestly ... I think it depends, right. For some people ... the mental illness – depression, whatever – makes it hard to actually do stuff. To write. It's also cathartic. In my case, that's really what writing is. Not to sound crazy but heal, and process everything I am going through. So I think it really depends on the person. Whether it's actually helpful or if ... you're just wallowing in your shit.

ISAAK: No, right. I ... I understand. When do you find yourself turning to poetry or literature?

LILIANA: I think it's ... that's actually a good question [laughter]. I think it's really when I feel overwhelmed, and I'm not a super motivated person in the first place, so it's when I think there's a lot going on and I can't express it in normal words, in conversation. That's when I start writing.

ISAAK: That's part of the reason that interviews like this are so important. Is because while writing is an incredible tool and a great ... output for creative energy, sometimes you have to hear the words spoken in order to truly understand the depth of them.

LILIANA: Yeah.

ISAAK: So your poem ... I'm terrible with pronunciation ... Longinus?

LILIANA: Longinus, yeah.

ISAAK: Longinus. What kind of headspace were you in when you wrote that poem? It's such a beautiful poem–

LILIANA: Oh, thank you.

ISAAK: What message were you trying to convey with it?

LILIANA: I was actually trying to talk about, which was when, when you have a lot to express but the same thing that's torturing you and filling you with so much emotion ... isn't actually letting you put anything out on paper. And, with that piece, I ... sorry, the whole voice thing is throwing me off, so with that whole piece I was just trying to capture everything I wanted to say, but at the same time ... explain why I couldn't say it.

[pause]

ISAAK: No, I think you put that wonderfully.

LILIANA: Well thanks. [laughter]

ISAAK: So with your writing, just as a person, you don't think that while obviously your mental illness has been integral to so much of your writing work, it's not something that you think is overly important?

LILIANA: Not universally, no. I think that the subject matter that I write about may not be accessible to everyone because I think a lot of people, when they write, write about ... I don't know, love and stuff like that, whereas I really can't relate [laughter] So, yeah ... it's integral to my work, but it's not integral to ... like, it's not a universal thing that all artists have to have to be good.

ISAAK: I think too often in our society, and in other societies, we glorify the idea of ... as the greeks said, Furor Poetica, the idea of the poetic madness or the crazy genius.

LILIANA: Yeah.

ISAAK: Is that something you want to work away from?

LILIANA: I don't feel ... you know, that I have to distance myself from it. As long as, I guess, what I write is decent – even if I fit that archetype, that's fine. But, yeah, I don't feel any particular animosity towards it.

ISAAK: Well thank you so much for giving me your time, Lily. I've taken up more than enough. Is there anything that you would like to add or ask before we close up the interview?

LILIANA: No, I think we're good. Sorry that I ... took so long to respond to your messages and everything ... my life's been a little crazy.

ISAAK: Oh, not at all. I completely understand. University is a wild world. Well thank you so much for joining me today. On behalf of everyone at Tongue Tied, and all of our readers, thank you again and we wish you the best of luck in all your future writing.

LILIANA: Thank you for having me.

Check out Liliana here: persuance.tumblr.com

Article by: Isaak Frank

[right-or-ron]

My 2017 of daily creative exploration is almost at an end. Frankly, I can hardly believe it. I set out on January 1, 2017 with the goal of posting in this blog each day, hoping to offset the negativity in the world and in my own spirit with art and artists and various expressions of creativity. Along the way I have discovered so many things, been inspired, and in many ways rewired my own brain to better take in all the good things around me. I also found the time to do a lot of art, perhaps more than I have ever done since I graduated from college with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree back when dinosaurs roamed the earth.

Over the next three days, I’ve decided to use this space as a sort of gallery. Though I am not very good at exact dating of things, I will attempt to show you examples of my artwork from this year, semi-chronologically. It was a year that I thought would involve more painting but, as it turned out, I did a lot more “painting” with craft foam, burlap and Modge Podge in the form of some mosaics. It was also a year where I tried to push myself into new directions and challenge my own established way of viewing and things.

Without further ado, here is part one of my 2017 Gallery:

Punk Rock Warlord (Joe Strummer Vs. the Void), Mixed media on canvas, 2016

Technically, this painting of Joe Strummer was finished right at the end of 2016 (I think on December 30 or 31, to be exact). However, it was done in the spirit that led me to my Year of Creating Dangerously, so I include it here as a very important jumping-off point for me.

Joe is a great hero of mine because of his own spirit and willingness to put himself out there in a vulnerable but powerful way. Instead of a traditional portrait, I chose to picture him battling the forces of brutality and banality (what I called the Void) with his chosen weapons: his voice, his words and his guitar slung around his neck. I intended it to just be an acrylic painting but the addition of shredded newspaper with Joe’s lyrics on them became a harbinger of things to come for me in 2017.

I had a difficult time completely shaking my disgust at the political reality in the world at the beginning of 2017, particularly as it played out south of the border. That led me to creating this next piece that appeared on my blog on inauguration day:

Divisible, Mixed media on canvas, 2017

My roots are in the United States so I couldn’t help but be distressed watching my former country from my vantage point in Canada. I had drawn a number of expressionist-type American flags with oil pastels. I tore those up to create this collage, Old Glory shattered and in disarray. It was very cathartic for me to make this artwork which I called “Divisible” as a counter-point to the “Indivisible” claim of the Pledge of Allegiance I used to give before the start of my school days.

About three years ago when I was getting back into art, I tried to recreate some famous portraits using oil pastels. It was a way to train myself and fire up the creative Jones again. This year, I decided to created my own self-portraits but in the style of a famous artist. I ended up finishing four of them which I share below, side-by-side with the original:

  Self-portrait Klee style, Chalk Pastels, 2017

      In descending order, then, is Paul Klee, Pablo Picasso, Joan Miro and Marc Chagall. I confess to having a lot of fun with these, particularly the Chagall-style self portrait as, just like the original, I added autobiographical details to the picture (e.g., Colorado in the dream bubble, a church and a bit of Spider Man on the canvas, Ottawa’s parliament hill out the window). These portraits were really great at getting me to think color and form and help me see things with a different set of eyes.

I had marvelous intentions from the beginning of the year to create a painting per month in 2017 dedicated to a favorite artist of mine. I ended up making three, none as pure paintings. The one below was finished in February, 2017:

Maya Rising, Mixed media on canvas, 2017

Maya Angelou is a great inspiration to me. This work was completed with a combination of black markers and acrylic paint, over photocopied sheets from her book I know Why the Caged Bird Sings, along with the words to her poem “Still I Rise”.

I have done many portraits of people – my co-workers, some friends, and some famous folks but I have avoided drawing my family. Frankly, that scares me the most and I think I get frozen up worried about getting them right. Below is my attempt at drawing my daughter from a beautiful photo of her when she was about four or five years old:

Picking Dandelions, Oil Pastels on paper, 2017

I ended up with something very impressionistic but I was still very dissatisfied with it. Why? Because I didn’t think it looked like my daughter!  I have come to appreciate it more over the course of the year but am bound and determined to get her right sometime in the near future.

Because this year was about creativity to me, I spent a lot of time researching different artists. At times that would lead me to attempting to recreate something they had done to stretch myself in new artistic directions. Jean Arp was a Dadaist who created some works by dropping geometric shapes onto a canvas. I tried the same thing with bits of craft foam dropped onto sheets of construction paper. The results are below:

  Little did I know that this seemingly simple artistic lark would lead me down the road to mosaics. These geometric patterns led me to thinking about stained-glass types of artwork, with shapes bound by black lines. I started experimenting with images having to do with the crucifixion (we were nearing Good Friday and Easter) and I came up with these small paintings on paper:

  I was trying to stretch myself again, thinking expressionist lines, solid colors, geometric shapes, and unusual glimpses of a familiar subject. From these ideas flowed the idea for a large painting, one of the few pure acrylic paintings I did this year, and the idea for a large cross to be on display at my church for Easter Sunday. Below is the painting, posted on Good Friday, and below that is me with the Easter Cross. Note the continued use of geometric shapes and solid colors:

Crucifixion Coronation, Acrylic on canvas, 2017

There was a wonderful coming-together of ideas and imagination at this time of the year for me. I was beginning to see the possibilities in this art form. As I have time in my day where I am part of running an art studio, I found I was often experimenting with things, trying things out. I found some leftover craft foam in our stores and used it to create a quick self portrait on paper:

Little did I know that just four months into this year I discovered the style that would define my art for 2017 more than any other. I was turning into a mosaic-maker.

Tomorrow in part 2 I’ll put a few of those artworks on display in this blog gallery.

        A Year of Creating Dangerously, Day 361: Ron’s 2017 Gallery, part 1 My 2017 of daily creative exploration is almost at an end. Frankly, I can hardly believe it.

[upalldown]

Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds - Ghosteen

Seventheenth studio album from the alternative rock band self-produced by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis is the final part of a trilogy of albums following Push the Sky Away (2013) and Skeleton Tree (2016)

10/13

The 2016 documentary One More Time With Feeling is, first and foremost, a film about a person getting back to work after an event of unimaginable trauma. In this case, that person is Nick Cave, the work is the recording of the album ‘Skeleton Tree’, and the event of unimaginable trauma is the horrific accidental death of Cave’s 15-year-old son Arthur in July 2015. “It was not an act of courage or anything” Cave later told the journalist Chris Heath, “it was just that I didn’t know what the fuck else to be doing. All I knew is that what I do is work, and that kind of continues. I think I knew, fundamentally, that if I lay down, I would never get up again.” Throughout his career, and certainly since he quit drugs in the late 1990s, Cave has got up five days a week, put on a suit, headed to the office and worked.

Something else, though, was going on with One More Time with Feeling. Why did he put himself through the experience of having the director Andrew Dominik document the very worst time of his life? Some suspected a ruse to avoid promotional interviews – this is folly, had Cave retreated from interviews for the rest of his life, absolutely everyone would have understood. No, something in Cave as a person – and as an artist – was changing, and it manifested itself in an urge to share and a compulsion towards the communal. To change in significant ways is not an uncommon reaction to grief and trauma, and Cave has been lucid about the “elastic band” or trauma, continually binding him and his family to that atrocious day in 2015. The film was the first sign of this change, and the second was the tour that followed Skeleton Tree. Watching those shows, the provocation towards the audience that typified Cave’s performing career became something else entirely – combativeness melted into communion. This continued with the launch of the Red Hand Files – a mailing list in which fans send questions to Cave and Cave selects those he wishes to answer (with answers ranging from the flippant to the forensic and heartbreaking). And then too, across 2018 and 2019, we had the ‘Conversations with Nick Cave’ events where fans were encouraged to, in Cave’s words, “ask me anything.” “Nothing can go wrong” Cave observed of the high-wire spontaneity of those fan events, “because everything has gone wrong.”

And so, announced via the Red Hand Files just a fortnight before release, we have Ghosteen, a double album. Cave has gone back to the office, he’s put the suit back on, and he’s knuckled down – recording the album across last year and this in Los Angeles, Brighton and Berlin. “The songs on the first album are the children” explained Cave in the album’s promotional materials, “the songs on the second album are their parents”. The two albums are stylistically distinct – the first are songs, the second are spoken-word poems over electronica soundscapes – but I don’t think that’s what Cave means when he refers to the ‘children’ and ‘parent’ relationship. We’ve no idea of course, but given that the same image of Jesus lying in his mother’s arms reoccurs on both of the albums would suggest the poems acting as creative spur for the songs.

For obvious and understandable reasons, the extent to which Skeleton Tree represented a stylistic break with Cave’s back catalogue went underdiscussed – it sounded like a creative breakthrough, and on the evidence of Ghosteen Cave is treating it as exactly that. Why was that record such a stylistic departure from the Bad Seeds’ previous work? For one thing, Warren Ellis’ electronics that had crept into 2013’s stunning Push the Sky Away were suddenly front and centre – the main meal. Similarly, Cave’s lyrics deviated heavily from his traditional maximalist Southern gothic conquests. In their place came something more elliptical, closer to modernist writing in their fragmentation and eschewing of narrative. It’s testament to Cave’s pedigree and discipline as a writer that he can flit from one mode to the other and produce work of such quality (that’s what you get for heading to the office every day).

At times, Ghosteen appears almost in dialogue with its predecessor, and this is no bad thing. Opener ‘Spinning Song’ seems to have itself spun from a line on Skeleton Tree – “the song, the song, the song it spins since nineteen eighty-four.” The gorgeous, revelatory Ellis backing vocals seen on ‘Girl in Amber’ are replicated all across this album, to beautiful effect.

As the vast bulk of Skeleton Tree was written prior to Cave’s tragic loss, it’s on Ghosteen that we have the first real document of Cave the writer working through pain and grief. There’s an embarrassment of riches here, and emotional gut punches land hard and fast from the outset. He writes on ‘Sun Forest’ of “a man mad with grief”, of “everybody hanging from a tree” – it’s an astonishingly vivid portrait of the fever that grief can be. I don’t often cry at music – just one of those things, doesn’t seem to happen – but on two separate occasions, at two different points on the record, I found myself in tears. Filling the void of loss and of grief is, though, nothing new in Cave’s work. Cave’s father, who introduced him to literature, died when Cave was just nineteen. “I see that my artistic life” he explained in 2001 “has centered around an attempt to articulate an almost palpable sense of loss which laid claim to my life.” I’ve long agreed with the writer John Doran’s point that a helpful way to understand Cave’s writing is to “picture a youngish Nick Cave unable to subdue the voice of his beloved father…asking ‘is this really good enough Nick?’”

Writing in the Red Hand Files, Cave explained that following Arthur’s passing, “we all needed to draw ourselves back to a state of wonder. My way was to write myself there.” Ghosteen begins to make much more sense in this context – the lyrics are dense with imagination. Cave as fantasy writer, striving for the victory of wonder and the imagination over the horror of things as they are. This fits, too, with the album’s artwork resembling something from blockbuster fantasy cinema – mythology and kitsch in blinding technicolor. The most striking expression of Cave’s push towards wonder is the recurrent motif of horses (also present on the artwork). Horses are mentioned repeatedly across the album, and appear as a lens through which Cave jousts with his views on wonder and creativity. “We are all so sick and tired of seeing things as they are / horses are just horses and their manes aren’t full of fire / and the fields are just fields and there ain’t no Lord.” Better, this seems to ask, to find the wonder in the horses than to give in and be resigned to the purely literal. “We all rose up from our wonder” he croons on ‘Night Raid’, “we will never admit defeat.”

God on this record, as is always the case in Cave’s work, is very much in the house. Jesus lies in his mother’s arms, priests run through chapels, Jesus freaks are out on the street. It’s no surprise though that Christian imagery pulsates harder than it has done in Cave’s writing for decades here at the point when he is most concerned with wonder – Cave has long linked the religious impulse with the creative one. In his 1996 lecture ‘the Flesh Made Word’, Cave explained that “Christ shows us that the creative imagination has the power to combat all enemies, that we are protected by the flow of our own inspiration.” That other messiah, Elvis, also makes a cameo on ‘Spinning Song’ – where 1985’s ‘Tupelo’ saw Cave depicting the creation myth of Elvis’ birth, here it’s the bloated anti-hero who ‘crashes onto a stage in Vegas’, Elvis of the later years, the fall from grace(land). Falling and rising happens a lot on this record, “a spiral of children climbs up to the sun” on ‘Sun Forest’, whilst on ‘Waiting For You’ bodies become “anchors”, bodies falling “that never asked to be free“. I don’t want to dwell on quite what it is that Cave evokes here.

The closest sisters to Ghosteen are Cohen’s You Want it Darker and Scott Walker’s Tilt – like both of those artists, Cave is in the small pantheon of songwriters who can claim genuinely revelatory late periods. Warren Ellis’ electronics – picking up not just from Skeleton Tree but from the film soundtrack work on which he and Cave have been moonlighting – here are at their most dominant and at their most astonishingly beautiful. The arrangements are often sparse and percussion is barely existent, occasionally pattering in and out of view absent-mindedly (one wonders if Jim Scalvanos got proficient at chess during the recording). Where once the Bad Seeds were marked by their bombast, now their sound is as elusive as Cave’s writing can become – Ellis’ synthesizers glow and swell, and occasionally like on ‘Galleon Ship’ they wail like the top notes of anxiety. It underlines the extent to which this is music made by someone in the aftermath of the unspeakable. On Skeleton Tree Cave’s voice was a often a rasp, pushed to breaking point and for very obvious reasons sounding under strain – these cracks were, of course, how the light got in, but it’s a delight to listen to Cave on this record delivering a career-best vocal performance. The weathered baritone is more powerful than ever, and the most affecting moments on the album see Cave creasing – making itself small – into a tortured falsetto.

Of the three ‘parent’ songs, the strongest is ‘Hollywood’. Ellis’ electronics here are at their most malevolent, and Cave alternates between vocal registers to suggest two different stories being told – one of Kisa, forced to bury her child, and one of another person (Cave?) fleeing to Hollywood after a tragedy (Cave has spoken in interviews of considering relocating to Los Angeles, Brighton carrying too many memories). There’s absolutely nothing redemptive about this album – why would there be? – but one moment offers hints about what comes in place of redemption, which is a roadmap through the worst of it. “I think my friends have gathered here for me” sings Cave on the gorgeous ‘Ghosteen Speaks’, as his friends the Bad Seeds chime a celestial choir around him, “I think they’re here for me.” It’s all we can ever ask from anyone.

On One More Time With Feeling Cave railed against the empty platitudes that surround the language of grief – on the album’s title track, he’s found something succinct and beautiful to say about grief, and I’ll leave the last word to Cave, back in the office, working through pain. “There’s nothing wrong / with loving something you can’t hold in your hand.”

https://www.loudandquiet.com/reviews/nick-cave-the-bad-seeds-ghosteen/