Though the Equinox doesn’t technically occur till 4:02 PM in my time zone, September 22nd is the first day of fall all day long. Here’s an autumn-y skeleton I drew recently, taking a walk with the leaves blowing.
Dissolution, putrefaction, rot, walking westward. Ready to meet whatever changes are coming.
As for me, I’ve tapered back on fluxuotene (I’m too poor to get name brand Prozac. Upvote me on Steemit or kick in some bucks on Patreon and pay me jajaja) to see if it will make me feel less scattered and exhausted. I thought it was my generic anti-psychotic, but then a friend of mine told me about Prozac making her feel exhausted. It’s been almost a week and what’s happened when I’m not ruminating on death and transformation in the fall? A slight increase in artwork, housework , and exercise compared to…I dunno, more or less the entire summer.
It’s been about a month since I’ve blogged anything,huh? But in between a lot of scattered thinking and inexplicable chronic fatigue, I did finish my 3 page comic about healthcare, disability, and illness for the upcoming issue of World War 3 Illustrated comics. The anthology is going to be out in November. Here’s a few sample panels:
First is an anthropomorphized version of a hepatitis-c virus, as they look under a microscope. I took things a bit into surreal medical horror. As for the second panel, there is a brand of interferon called “Pegasys”, by the way. Fun fact.
They haven’t made an appearance on this blog yet, have they?
Some friends of mine were discussing that blogs were dead, it’s all about podcasts now. Except I can’t show you something I drew on a podcast, now, can I?
Some old sketchbook work. Because I haven’t been here in a long time.
There’s only so many back-to-back days of social obligations I can handle before I break down. Even if they’re all great. Even if I like everybody. I get overstimulated. I have to go be quiet.
I also probably shouldn’t be allowed out too long unsupervised. I made a friendly overture to someone at a friend’s event who turned out to be somewhere between starfucker and stalker. Not for me, but for my friend and certain other people Eric and me are sometimes affiliated with. The Someone ended up grilling Eric for said peoples’ home addresses and phone numbers, which he wouldn’t give out, and the Someone called him a stuck up dick. Honestly though I just always thought it was rude to give out someone’s personal info without their knowledge or permission, get over it.
When a cab pulled in front of ours on a rainy 3 AM nearly causing a collision and causing us both to smack our heads against the partition separating us from the cabbie, my streak of black humor made me wonder if it wasn’t him. I didn’t bother mentioning it aloud.
I made a wisecrack about the vituperative review of the Guggenheim Symbolist show in the NY Times after a friend posted it on Facebook. She was annoyed by how ill informed the critic seemed to be. A complete stranger liked the wisecrack…and then went on to like several of my old profile pics.
Usually I’ll color this sick fuck’s hair hair green. But I did this for NY Waste, which is black and white printing, so I shaded his hair in black, and now he looks like some kind of reptilian Nick Cave. But I guess that’s ok since they’re both the zeitgeist of whatever the hell the point of this article is supposed to be.
(My friend posted that article once a long time ago. It made me laugh. My friend writes incredible zines about murder. They make me wish I was a better fiction writer.)
I haven’t blogged in over a month. What did I do?
hit a creeper with my bow who tried to slip me the tongue while playing violin in the park
got invited with Eric to a mermaid parade GWAR wedding, ended up missing the ceremony due to an N train that stalled for 15 minutes AT. EVERY. GODDAMN. STOP. Became paranoid about the Universe in a downpour
had an art opening. Went to some other people’s art opening’s and book releases and film screenings and stuff. Was photographed with Eric by a guy who Bob Bert told me was a “very famous” downtown photographer. Meanwhile, another “very famous” downtown photographer skulked around various events looking nervous for some reason.
drank a beverage that involved bubble tea and cotton candy in an oversized light bulb on my birthday.
drunkenly extolled the virtues of Ital Shack to people who probably just don’t care.
Regarding the show with Seth David Tobocman tonight at the Anarchist Book Fair in Montreal, I want to post this message that Eric had passed along for Seth to read:
Greetings from NYC! This is Eric Blitz; Both myself and J. Gonzalez-Blitz are sorry that we will not be performing tonight as the Direct Action Ensemble with Seth Tobocman. I was at this time denied a renewal of my passport. Such are the times we live in, and just like the work you will see and hear tonight, times like this have happened before over the years. My words to you are “The struggle continues”, “Power to the people” and as Seth can further elaborate, Make shit happen” Whenever there have been times like these, the word and the creations of artists of all disciplines get attacked.
I have worked with Seth since the early 2000’s, though we both come from the NYC art, music and activist underground of the early and mid 1980’s. enduring both good and bad. Tonight both J. and I want you to to actively watch and listen to the work in the great French issue of “War in the neighborhood” and decide for yourself if it is time to review the past, learn from it, and bring YOUR new…for the future which is NOW! MERCI!!!!!
Also the passport guy looked something up and I’m marked as posting “incendiary art”? YOU post incendiary art! :p
Nah, just kidding, I’m sure something I drew could be taken in that manner or some shit, but FFS art isn’t SUPPOSED to be safe. Unless you want to spend you life drawing Hallmark cards and Summer’s Eve boxes or something. I dunno.