6/3/11 La La Land

“Living In La Land” can be read in full at Tapastic or Webcomicsnation.

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So much to do, so little motivation. Coldness isn’t exactly “up and at ’em”. Partially finished artworks, a violin track that needs to be brought out, fingers to stiff to hold a bow, almost. Even typing is tap tap tap. El Barrio is under seige, my father tells me today. If not the whole thing, certainly his tenement building where the newest renter is one of those bearded 20-somethings…I read an article calling them “lumberjacksexuals” or “lumberjackoffs” or something. I bet I could handle an axe much better though. My uncle on the Irish side taught me how to throw axes. But more recently things are tense because he said something, I don’t want get into right now, but Eric took it as disrespectful to his biological mother…I guess that’s true since it was a slur to anyone North African or Middle Eastern. My mother texts from Arizona where she’s chosen to live, beginning to meditate recently and memories surfacing…me brought from the pool in winter, even there they have a sort of winter and my lips purple and shivering. I guess it would make sense for that to come up, I did it around this time of year. I did it shortly after being raped. I hadn’t thought of it in years, the memories are fuzzy because my mind was very fuzzy when I first did it. I don’t even know if “attempted suicide” is accurate because I can’t remember if I was looking for death or purification in the water. But it was roughly around this time of year. Families are weird. I could say I’m the black sheep but that title shifts all of the time.
Anyway, the lumberjackoff. Right. Surly, aggressive, and attempting to be threatening. “DON’T FUCK WITH ME DAWG, I’LL FUCK YOU UP!” he screams at this far more streetwise and tough tempermental Cubano,a survivor who could easily throw the kid out the window like a javelin and land him three blocks away. Why is this transplant picking fights with strangers in the place he’s purportedly chosen to be his new community? A bearded head filled with ideas of how to behave in New York/Harlem/Spanish Harlem that were all learned from movies and tv somewhere in the midwest, no doubt. El Barrio is under seige. Laughable, pathetic seige.

I love ignoring every piece of advice I’ve ever gotten about not making a blog “too personal if you want to showcase your art/comics/music/whatever.” Probably heard that from the same kinds of people who said to build up recognition by presenting myself as one thing, to not delve into multiple disciplines…I’m unmarketable, and I love it.

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