October 1st Update



I lost the thread this month. Moved again. Feeling non-settled, and unsure of what's next. Feeling good, but disorganized.

So, no comic this month. almost pounded one out, but didn't feel good about it, doing it half-assed and without caring.

I need a bit more time to think and write. Plenty of ideas, but need grounding.

See you in a month.
excited

one of my favorite quotes ever

Al, the handsomest man, looks bewildered and groggy over his first cup of coffee. His mustache is sprung and wild to match his sleep-jagged eyebrows as he peers around the table at us, asking, 'What's this I hear about high jinks on the Mouse Rack with the wheelchair? Eh, dreamlets?'

We all grin dutifully and Elly does her 'Oh, Papa!' routine to disarm him while Mama blearily hands around filled breakfast plates, and drags her kimono sleeves through the butter every time she reaches across the table.

I cut Arty's meat slowly while my chest fills with a yearning that would like to spill out through my eyes and nose. It is, I suppose, the common grief of children at having to protect their parents from reality. It is bitter for the young to see what awful innocence adults grow into, that terrible vulnerability that must be sheltered from the rodent mire of childhood.

Can we blame the child for resenting the fantasy of largeness? Big, soft arms and deep voices in the dark saying, ‘Tell Papa, tell Mama, and we’ll make it right.’ The child, screaming for refuge, senses how feeble a shelter the twig hut of grown-up awareness is. They claim strength, these parents, and complete sanctuary. The weeping earth itself knows how desperate is the child’s need for exactly that sanctuary. How deep and sticky is the darkness of childhood, how rigid the blades of infant evil, which is unadulterated, unrestrained by the convenient cushions of age and its civilizing anesthesia.

Grownups can deal with scraped knees, dropped ice-cream cones, and lost dollies, but if they suspected the real reasons we cry they would fling us out of their arms in horrified revulsion. Yet we are small and as terrified as we are terrifying in our own ferocious appetites.

We need that warm adult stupidity. Even knowing the illusion, we cry and hide in their laps, speaking only of defiled lollipops or lost bears, and getting a lollipop or a toy bear’s worth of comfort. We make do with it rather than face alone the cavernous reaches of our skulls for which there is no remedy, no safety, no comfort at all. We survive until, by sheer stamina, we escape into the dim innocence of our own adulthood and its forgetfulness.


-from Katherine Dunn's "Geek Love", Chapter 9 "how We Fed the Cats"

Every times I read that quote, my spine gets tingly. I must re-read the book. It's been far too long.
happy now kevin?

September 1st Update



This month I felt a little unsure what to do for an experimental comic, and my friend Kevin suggested "Time Travel. There's a lot you can do with it: paradoxes, parallel universes, or just going back to berate your younger self for being an idiot." (that last bit referring to "I Hate This Town")

And so I did. Called Time Travel, a short ditty beating the dead horse of time-travel concepts to death with its own broken leg.

Hm.

All is well here. I just made blueberry pancake cookies, an idea I've been thinking about gleefully for weeks now. They came out pretty good. I used a chocolate-chip cookie recipe, but replaced the chocolate chips with dehydrated blueberries, and the brown and white sugar with pure maple sugar.

The biggest downfall is that the maple sugar tastes sweet, but not particularly maple-y, despite being pure maple sugar. Perhaps, if I attempt it again, I'll also use two eggs and switch to baking powder (from baking soda) for a cakeier cookie.

And I don't own a dehydrator, so I cut all the blueberries in half, lay them out on a plate cut-side-down, and put them in the oven on the "warm" setting for 4 hours. I am so bordering on OCD sometimes. Here's the berries laid out, pre-dehydrated.

what to do?

What should I do next for an experimental comic? My goal is to take me out of my comfort zone. I've been fiddling with a Dali-esque surrealistic piece, but it's stalled a bit. So far, I've written the following:

a double story
an unreliable narrator
intertwined two storylines simultaneusly
illustrated a poem
Written magical (sur)realism (vava)
written a narrative telling two stories in the same text
written a snapshot scene of a quilt-like possibly bigger "story"
illustrated a friend's written piece
24 hour comic
silent comic
written on a "snow" theme
short horror story
sketchy emotionally autobio
narrative of charaters describing a non-shown character, and not realizing what they're revealing
diary comic

thoughts?

posted 8/13/08 - ("8/11/08") - A Dream


buy original artwork

That's it. Sorry there was no warning, but I only knew it today when I woke up and felt I was done.

But there's always more comics. Starting September 1st (and every month) I will have a new "Water Street" comic here (or a blog post at least), so come back to see!

The "diary comic" archives (titled "May 2008") are linked from Water Street, and I spent yesterday cleaning them up, so they should be fully functional.

As far as the Draw Your Day offer, it's still available. I had only a few responses, which is fine (people were likely waiting for an interesting day), and so I'll just leave that open. If you have a day you want me to draw, I'll remain open to do it (details behind the cut or at baldwinpage.com).

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posted 8/11/08 - ("8/9/08") - spill cleanup

BTW: This is probably the last week I'll be offering the "draw your day" (behind the cut). So, now's your chance. And as long as you write it in the next couple of weeks or so, you don't have to write it the day you pay. :)


buy original artwork



Plus another guest strip, this one for my friend Miranda.

Now's your chance to show the world your own life. Step up to the plate I get to step up to every day.
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