What a strange month. Obviously.
I’ve been able, so far, to maintain my artistic productivity through this madness. To say that is unimportant is an understatement, but it makes me feel better. Of course, it’s in large part a function of my privilege and circumstance; I’m able to comfortably work at home, I don’t have children or other dependents — and beyond that I think it comes down to the fact that I happened to spend time in January and February planning long projects that I’m working on now. It’s helpful to have a clear set of tasks in front of me, and to feel a sense of accomplishment when they’re complete. I wonder if I can keep it up as this strange moment continues to lurch forward.
I read the new Cometbus, which explores how institutions are built, how these institutions can do good, and how they can last. The chapters on comics are probably the worst, because the contrast between Cometbus’ status as an outsider in comics but as a (relative) insider in the other scenes he explores is very clear. But I loved this issue in general, and here are two great quotes:
He said, “We thought, here’s twenty or thirty people from all different parts of the world talking to each other, and putting out magazines, and so forth. It sounds grandiose, but we had the hope that somehow we were going to change world culture that way.”
And you do, I told him. You did.
“And you do,” Dan agreed. “But you only move it an inch.”
A good inch, I said.
“Exactly. That’s what the prism of old age teaches you.”
—
“When I was in my twenties, I could use my body like a blunt object, and smash through the world. As I feel that not being as possible, I want to extend the metaphor and become more like a blade. I’m a little more delicate, so let me be a little more cutting with my energy. I want to try to make it last.”
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Cometbus #59: Post-Mortem, Aaron Cometbus
Now #7, ed. Eric Reynolds
Emma, Jane Austen