STEAL THESE PENGUINS
Because love by any name is sweet and rare.
Because you believe in marriage equality.
Because penguins are so adorable.
Note: I do not advocate stealing penguins from your local zoo, but you are welcome to use this image as your avatar if you believe at least two of the above statements. Linking back to me is appreciated when possible, but not necessary. Spread the love.
thelasttraintoarcady asked: This is more of a tell than an ask. Just to say I'm really really looking forward to seeing your graphic novel - are you sure you're not married to Neil Gaiman. Amsterdam's really worked for you innit? xx
Hi Steev -
You are so sweet. I am glad that you are one of my five loyal fans (and that includes my mom). Your creativity is also inspiring to me. Let’s keep the fires burning!
I did share more images from my work-in-progress before I went to New York in January in this previous posting, and I’ll share one of my favorite images that came out of my noodlings about the story below. Now that I’m “done” with the first episode (one of three) I know that it will actually end differently! I think I may give the original pencil drawing away as a prize as I clean out my studio to move. Stay tuned.
Your fine-feathered friend,
A SEA SHANTY FOR J. ALFRED PRUFROCK
This weekend I was working on another design for litographs - The Poems of T.S. Eliot. This was difficult for me to approach at first. Should I attempt a broad general interpretation? Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach? The answer became evident pretty quickly. I had to pick a poem, and the one I picked was The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. It just kills me, that one. I can’t stop reciting it aloud once I read it again, much to the dismay of my family members.
I won’t wax on for too long. It’s so hard to talk about poetry without feeling pretentious. But one thing I tried to capture with this singular image is how Eliot manages to convey the sense of the smallness of the individual against the majesty of the infinite. Something like that. I’d sing for Mr. Prufrock. And I do. I do!
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.