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last,  the hearn project is gaining traction, mention of which has been recently included in a travelling print show called kwaidan exhibition, currently in dublin with dates ahead in japan, UK, and, i have heard, cincinnati and new orleans. basically most of the places  hearn lived. the photo below includes a graphic the curators made promoting our project. the exhibit itself is described as such:
"Kwaidan—Encounters with Lafcadio Hearn is an exhibition of prints by 20 Japanese and 20 Irish-based artists consisting of a sumptuous array of visual interpretations of Kwaidan, the well-known book of ghost stories published in 1904 by Patrick Lafcadio Hearn (1850-1904), also known as Koizumi Yakumo."

it looks like a lot of cool work and evan, denise and i are fortunate to be involved. like i have mentioned, hearn has an international audience, so creators just manage to discover each other. we have already met many authors and artists involved in some aspect of hearn's body of work and i suspect that will continue to happen.
with that, and to come full circle, the cincinnati red stockings, as they were called in 1869, started playing professionally around the time hearn arrived in america. during his 7 or so years in cincinnati, i am forced to wonder if he saw a game or two between his usual haunts. with his poor eyesight, i just imagine him nose-down in his journal, oblivious to a foul ball that misses him by just a couple inches. did it really happen? we may never know.

verdict: looks about the same. for what it is worth, it reads really well on mastadon.

of the few i know, "sumimasen" is the japanese word i uttered more than any other during my trip. if you've seen james may: our man in japan, a travel series of which i was unaware of until i returned home, you will notice this is his go-to as well. it basically means, "excuse me", or, "i'm sorry", and i attribute its overuse to the sensitivity i experienced of possibly inconveniencing an entire country full of people at every turn; when i was lost, when i didn't understand, when i blindly walked in the someone's path. of course, being eternally damned wasn't the case at all, it is the opposite there and i have never met a kinder, more accommodating society so happily willing to assist. still, "sumimasen" was said out of an embarrassment of  gratitude a hundred times a day.

​     it is a tired refrain but this was a life-changing trip in a number of ways. yes, i discovered a whole new way to look at the world, but i was also reminded of the things that are important to me- the value of loved ones, overcoming fear, reaffirming good health and the appreciation of choosing sobriety 25 years ago. the peace of finally realizing a life path that leads you places you never dreamed. but in this instance, i have dreamed this place. i have dreamt of seeing this sunrise since i was young, and it exceeded all expectations, even on its grayer days.
there is too much to say about everything my travelling companions and i experienced together, and individually, so i will just share some of my favorite photos. i know i may never be able to fully articulate how the air felt, how the trickling brook sounded, or how the colors all around me seemed to radiate out from some silver core, but i will always know.  it is not the type of place and they are not the type of people one ever forgets.

it is pure coincidence that the beast is named the jefferson ground sloth, after occasional paleontologist and maybe relative, thomas jefferson. it is also a coincidence that the warrior depicted is one of tecumseh's followers. tecumseh has been of particular significance to me over the years and at one point a statue i was to make myself. it was a bronze though, and without funding, fizzled out. hell, it might've been toppled eventually anyway with the collateral damage from differing opinions  these days. who is to say.
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from wikipedia:
"Exquisite corpse, also known as exquisite cadaver (from the original French term cadavre exquis), is a method by which a collection of words or images is collectively assembled. Each collaborator adds to a composition in sequence, either by following a rule or by being allowed to see only the end of what the previous person contributed."
thus, my friend tim mcmichael decided that in this time of covid 19, he would engage his fellow isolated artists in such a surrealist exercise with the panels being carefully mailed to each other and worked on in succession. it's a little tough to see, but here are the contributions of tim mcmichael, christian schmit, julie klear, and myself.
this measures at 12 1/4" x 48". i quite like it, and everyone involved.

i'm not entirely sure what mine is trying to say....it is a little bit of a nod to hokusai with the predominant shape and mt. fuji in the background, and the crying leopards, well, they feel like a constellation or nebula in the night sky. julie's panel before mine provided the only clue of cut out shapes, so i kind of took it that direction.


the whole exercise was a nice kick in the ass, really.

 his eyes aren't resolved and yes, his teeth are temporarily made of pointed q-tips, and yes there is quite a lot more hair poking to do....(i have dubbed this process "fucking around with intention"). yeah he looks like shit but it is starting to become a thing. can special effects be far behind? taxidermy? (sorry, taxidermy doesn't suit my tastes).  beats me. maybe he's just a stepping stone to the next thing.

this meditation is all relative in the end- definitions we put on ourselves of how or if we find our way. maybe success is for someone else to decide or more dependent on our own measures of happiness...but maybe there is a takeaway message too: try not to struggle and worry about rejection and perhaps some other natural results will begin to emerge that benefit you.
just do it? if it's good enough for a shoe, it's good enough for you- that is the message to myself too, because i forget that.
anyway,  since i'm not permitted to talk about what this horrible hybrid is for just yet i guess i could briefly mention the graphic novel (or, an illustrated art book, if you will) that two fellow artists and i are currently all kinds of steeped in. like, "writing grant applications and plotting research trips" steeped in. so if you've been wondering where i fell off to, it's parts unknown, a graphic novel about the writer lafcadio hearn (see previous entry), and punching hairs on a winston churchill wolf man. however, consuming as these pursuits are, i don't think we can say any of it is currently successful-and i'm fine with that.

as the full weight of the oppressive summer heat bears down upon on us, we turn to our balmy desires towards small vents everywhere.....in the car....stores or restaurants....be it languidly opening freezer doors or pressing damp laundry to our faces in a darkened wash room, anything pushing some relief towards our dwindling prayers is welcome.  the earth is sick and burning and will one day shake off all its fleas again so fire up the grill!
now, since i am not a "word man", i better get to the stuff i came here for.......and yet,  somehow connected i suppose, is this thrift store music box i found not long ago.  upon seeing it i couldn't contain the urge to paint it black. well, with a wash, really. although not much of an appropriation artist, i do find myself more and more leaning on production techniques i've been practicing every day for the last 4 years......so... black bird singing in the dead of night. is it a one-off? probably.

long way of saying, despite my best efforts, production art still has me in its jaws. we have had big projects this year for universal studios (the harry potter ride) and dollywood (wildwood grove tree), among others. other than that....waiting on results.....didn't make a couple anthologies.....did make some other publications....and i do have a neil armstrong story in the pipeline though, which i will post here soon. stay cool.

knowing it deserved to be more than a one-liner, this one has been a long time coming....should it be color? 8 pages? 10 pages? do i draw that one guy's wiener? do i acknowledge the zulu face paint stuff?
in 2015 i emailed my friends to see what they remembered from our mardi gras trip in 1992. their accounts were riotous- it is always interesting to see the way memory of shared events tints from one person to the next. nonetheless, i herded up all of the pertinent information, common denominators, and references to finally get us here. opting not to rush a few pages, i missed last year's deadline....and still barely made it this time! part of the issue is grappling with a story, simple as mine are. i thumbnail everything to some degree, but the arc really gets resolved on the page......and then page 6 might change what i was thinking on page 1. so often there is some looking back and seeing where i could have made improvements. rather than george lucas everything, sometimes you gotta know when to say when and just take that knowledge into the next project....so these comics are what they are. that is how my brain works. i'm not complaining or disclaiming. just talking shop about the creative process.


thanks to mark m, julie k, tim m, sandrine w, jeff w, and amy p for their instrumental contributions. oh, and johnny q for photographing it and eric j for photo refs. FAT TUESDAY, like all sordid tales before it, is  unsuitable for romantics.....

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• once again, i offer my (almost) 200 top songs of the past year, found in descending order on this spotify playlist.  every year seems to have its share of sad lady songs offset by gritty, drawn out, post-punk/noise pop instrumentals. this year is no different. it was a tight race but i had to give the top spot to the breeders, whose excellent reunion album all nerve really hits its pinnacle with dawn: making an effort. so they probably benefit from the context of a meaningful album. well, and kim deal's voice after all of this time.

as per usual, all of my previous lists constantly get additions as they are discovered and might be worth your time. i'm here.

​however, if you'd rather not jump through all those hoops, the top 25 reads like so:
25) suspirium- thom yorke
24) minotaur forgiving minos- moonface
23) all nerve- the breeders
22) extraordinary love- erika wennerstrom
21) dance of the lotus- the joy formidable
20) secret light- the men
19) what do you feel free about?- the juan maclean, man power remix
18) pearly gates- u.s. girls
17) forget me- born ruffians
16) obsession- no joy/sonic boom
15) a song for those who miss you all the time- thin lips
14) cut yr teeth- kississippi
13) future creme- total control
12) negative space- hookworms
11) good times are gone again- fred thomas
10) overthrown- thee oh sees
9) black car- beach house
8) drab measure- crack cloud
7) always elsewhere- ron gallo
6) odessey-mien
5) stains on silence- girls names
4) spells- jenny hval
3) pink- mothers
2) the dread- sibille attar
1) dawn: making an effort- the breeders

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speaking of comics, there are a couple still in the works where some strides were made, there's that 8 (or 9) pager about fat tuesday that hopes to hit its deadline this time around, and the ever-perpetuated hello earth has been tooled slightly and is now called the ninth wave, freeing it up conceptually  to be better than before. 
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so, i'm still alive. kind of.

REMEMBER TO VOTE.
​i did it by mail this time. hope it makes it.

 breaking with tradition a little bit here......
with the notable exception of NO contribution whatsoever for 2016, in the past i've listed my take on the best albums of the year.  i do prefer that format so perhaps i'm afforded the time for its return next december.  still, in the mish-mash of the daily grind i found a lot of good songs the past 12 months and dumped them all into a 2017 spotify playlist.
157 songs in some semblance of order from meh to best. sure, i probably missed a couple....that happens every year, but even my past lists get additions throughout the year.  so check them all out. i'm here. however, if you just want the red meat, the top 25 reads like so: