81. Tricky
How we light a dark house. Completing a storyboard, a script, and an animatic. Seeking lower frequencies.
Excitement dwindling, curiosity had increased. Occasion revived an illusion of discovery, as if one woke in a strange room to wonder afresh not only where but who one was; to shed assumptions, even certainties.
—Shirley Hazzard, The Great Fire
An erstwhile New Yorker friend blurs through town and we grab 45 minutes over a salad (penult jag, two years ago; martini). I tell her about how many good things’ve been happening; how drained I feel; how I’ve decided to forego London. She chews slowly, brushing something off the table. With a sidelong glance, she asks if I’d read anything good lately. I confess that it’s been hard for me to read, even on the train. She nods and says, At one point while living here, I realized I could no longer sit still for anything. I couldn’t even watch a movie straight through. I had to get up and do the dishes, or straighten a stack of books. My attention span had vanished. I lower my fork to look at her; seen, and damned. She continues before taking her next bite, It’s tricky. Very tricky.
News
Thank goodness, then, for good things. One of the aforementioned:
Casa Magazines is a New York City institution—"New York’s magazine mecca”— and it’s surreal to be featured there by way of photographer and artist Julia Parris’s latest magazine, Analog is Heavy: The Resilience Issue.
Limited copies are available; go grab yours if you’re in town. Casa Magazines is in Manhattan’s West Village, at 22 8th Ave, New York, NY 10014.
In the studio
I tricked myself into completing an animatic (animated storyboard) for my next,1 with surprisingly little angst. I talk about how, below.
Sketches converging into a timeline:
Loosely in parallel, a script:
Despite appearances of structure, things remain intentionally informal and unresolved. Sketches in loose, timed sequence. Notes, in an ordered list. One driving the other, iteratively, in the manner of two uphill-bound companions alternately shouldering a load as they go.
When it came time to actually shift things onto a timeline, I got tense as I sometimes do when I have to disambiguate. Tension, which leads to spinning in place or paralysis, is of course bad for art-making.
Members, read on about how I tricked myself into relaxing. Also: a clip from the animatic, a process timelapse at 2x, and a closing microessay.
Everyone else—I know things have been paywalled more than usual. It’s due to where I am in the process; I think that when ideas are germs, they do better with limited exposure. Fear not, they’re sprouting! Soon they’ll be hardy for all the eyes. Thanks for sticking with things.
Meanwhile, I hope above-paywall microessays, news, and peeks still feel substantial. This week, I’ve moved the Post-It Peptalk and Provisions up here as well. Enjoy.
Post-it Peptalk
Provisions
Will & Harper · Documentary
Will Ferrell and his best friend Harper go on a cross-country road trip after Harper’s transition to being a woman. An earnest, intimate film. Bonus: a NYT interview by David Marchese.
“Minnesota Nice” · Essay
Cheryl Strayed on leaving NYC. Re-reading this oldie made me emotional. I remember seeing a Terrible Map of the U.S. once, where New York falls under the “Acts Mean, Is Nice" quadrant. We might be gruff about giving you directions—and please get out of the way if you can’t move faster—but New Yorkers are exceptionally kind.
Sanatorium under the Sign of the Hourglass · Interview
I love how the Quay brothers finish each other’s sentences. Binars IRL.
Weekly Happenings · Newsletter
Alexa’s weekly curated highlights of NYC goings-on are chock-full of wonderful. I dislike casual popularization of NYC gems more than probably anyone, but the vibe here is more “discover-and-support local,” versus “IYKYK.”
Good Arson · Poetry
This zine with “4 poems cloaked in a chrome gold cover print,” falling “in between wrath and comfort, rage and rebirth,” is not only gorgeous in the hand, but sublime for the heart. While supplies last (stock seems to be running low).
Thanks again for reading.