Shawn Phillips, July 26, 2010

I will write more on this tomorrow. The post will be expanded, but I wanted to get it out there that tonight's Shawn Phillips concert was amazing!
Here's me and Shawn, courtesy of my cheesy cel phone.

More details about this fantastic evening tomorrow!
Well, as Martha and the Muffins once sang, let me tell you, it's tomorrow and I never know what tomorrow will bring!
Shawn details:
Show started promptly at 7:30 as is Shawn's way. He made his entrance from the top floor of the 2-story stage setup and walked down the prop spiral stairs, which was big fun!
Shawn's playing with a band for most of this tour. I'd rather see him solo, but this band was a good complement to him. Talented players who knew when to step in and most importantly, when to hold back. Passion and restraint are such a difficult combination!
Here's some rehearsal footage with the band from earlier in the day.




The show was one long set, a little under two hours.
While Shawn was in voice and on for the night, and the material included stuff not performed publicly for more than 30 years, I was most struck by the philosophical and moral content of Shawn's works.
He spoke of the three things he tries to include in his writing:
Anger
Wonder
Technique
Anger is an awareness of what's wrong and a willingness to try to do something about it.
Wonder is a continual appreciation of the beauty in beads of water on leaves, an awareness of the delicacy and endurance of nature, of life.
Technique is balancing the two.
I've never heard it put quite that way before.
As often happens during a Shawn concert, I marvel at what the man has survived. Last night he told us about his 1976 accident, when his long hair got tangled in the propeller of an outboard motor. He was in critical care for three months and spent another four in recovery. The doctors were afraid he had brain damage and would never be able to write or compose again.
Much of the evening was about craft and possibility.  When I'm honored/confronted by the work of a creator of Shawn's caliber, I find myself torn between feelings of tremendous inadequacy and aspirations to immense possibility.
The evening was archived, which gives me hope that there may be a DVD in our future! (addendum: learned that there will be no DVD of this one).
I'll let one of my favorite Shawn songs close. This is from the MN Zoo performance two years ago, the best Shawn Phillips show I've ever seen. I encourage you to buy the DVD!

Original Art Sundays #51: A Private Myth, p. 15

At least I think it's p. 15. I'll go back and recount during the week.
Although the page is not complete, I'm posting it anyway. I left this one as pencils rather than do inks on it- my inks are not what they might be at times, though I have done some good ink work over the years.
I need to add a tier of panels and dialogue along the top and a word balloon associated with the main image.
I'm rather happy with this one. I may elect to leave more pages as pencil if they turn out this well.
I think that, even without the text, you can get a pretty clear sense of what's going on in this page.
Next week: more.

It was 41 years ago today...

...that man first walked on the moon.
Thanks to the timely reminder on Colleen Doran's blog, this did not elude me.
I recall sitting in awe in front of my Grandma's B & W TV console, my family around me. My mother, grandmother, brothers and sisters and I sat in awe.
My grandma quietly remarked that this was something Golden (my grandfather who had passed a few weeks earlier) always wanted to see.
Like Kennedy's death, the fall of the Berlin Wall, Hands Across America and the Fall of the Towers, an event that touched us all.
There will always be the cynics and conspiracy theorists contending it didn't happen.
Twaddle.
They just refuse to believe in human possibility.



I'm also reminded of one of my favorite comics of last year, Whatever Happened to the World of Tomorrow?
The events are chronicled therein as well. (I'll amend this post with apropos scans tomorrow pages now ready to post!).

As we fight to treat each other decently in an increasingly indecent world, let us pause and recognize our capacities.
"Reach for the Moon" is no longer a euphemism.
Perhaps we can make the phrase "human decency" a reality as well.

Original Art Sundays # 50: Tranny Towers, p. 1

The next page of A Private Myth is proving much more challenging than I anticipated, especially since it's a relatively simple page. But it's a very emotional page, and that's bogging me down a tad.
But as the work is important to me (and I already have too many pages that I don't see as up to standard), and as it will be part of the fall faculty show at MCAD, I have elected to post a Tranny Towers page in lieu of newer work.
Looking at these now, I find the proportions a bit troublesome, but am much happier with them now than I was at the time. It also allows me to get my head back into the place I was at artistically at that time, and work on overcoming the block I've developed about backgrounds since doing these. While the backgrounds on these aren't spectacular, they work with the pages, especially as the narrative evolves, and I need to get back to that.
This is the first Tranny Towers strip, as originally presented in Lavender magazine in 1994-95.

Original Art Sundays # 49: Tranny Towers wraparound cover

In 1995, I prepared a very small and not very professional print run of a Tranny Towers comic book.
Tranny Towers was my strip devoted to a community of transgendered funny animals. It ran in Lavender magazine for about a year and half, 36 strips. Some of the characters showed up in political strips for TransSisters and TNT News.
The character Athena served as the basis for my on-and-off transgendered graphic novel, TranScending.
This comic was not intended for sale, though I did sell one copy to an interested party. It was produced as part of a submission packet for a Xeric Foundation grant. Needless to say, I didn't win the grant, or there would be a lot more of them around!
Finding my only remaining copy a couple days ago, I thought I'd post the work here on weeks when there's no new page of A Private Myth.
Here's the wraparound cover. I just colored it yesterday and today. Pleasantly surprised at the results, considering how little I use Photoshop lately!

Things happen when you wear Eleganza... horrible things....

I've tried to explain the phenomenon of Eleganza to people to no avail.
They advertised in magazines like Hit Parader, a mag that published the words to hits of the day and articles on the bands. This would be late 1960s.
To a naive kid in rural North Minnesota, this was taken verbatim as an accurate version of hip fashion. This is one of their tamer ads.

The whole black/white thing didn't even dawn on me. I just thought this was the way cool, self-assured people dressed.
Another company advertising in those mags offered fake mustaches, sideburns and goatees.
Stay classy, guys.
Come on, it was the 60s and we were kids. Like Roseanne said, everybody was smoking pot and there was a war on and things were just more fun.
To exonerate Eleganza, here's a promo shot of my favorite band, Gentle Giant, from the late 70s:

We all make fashion mistakes. As Nicholas Cage's character noted in the great Coppola film Peggy Sue Got Married, what's the point of being a teenager if you can't dress wierd?

Original Art Sundays # 48: A Movie for America

I love this country.
Any place else, I wouldn't stand a chance!
America, the home of bratwurst (oops, that's Germany), fries (sorry, that's France or England, depending on how they're cut) and pizza (sorry, that's Italy).
So what have we given the world?
Jazz, movies, nuclear power (for good and bad), Walt Disney, man on the moon, and a singular form of democracy (again, for good and bad).
So much great music: Aaron Copland, Paul Simon, Duke Ellington, Laurie Anderson, Mingus, Phillip Glass, the Doors....
Hendrix!
Some of my favorite musicians are purely American: Mark O'Connor, Paul Simon, Mike Nesmith, Shawn Phillips....
And it's a beautiful country, full of joy, anger and surprise!
To celebrate July 4, I've taken some photos of my US travels for the last few years and combined them with a couple fast, loose guitar pieces.
Art for America, anyone?

The Adventure of the Bass of Doom

I'm not a big Metallica fan. And I revere the talent of Jaco Pastorius.
So the final answer to the mystery of Jaco's long lost bass, called The Bass of Doom by acolytes, was a surprise to me.
Seems Metallica's Robert Trujillo is also a Jaco devotee, and has been working unceasingly and generously to solve this puzzle and do right by Jaco's family along the way.
It's easy to pigeonhole people. This guy plays bass in a metal band, therefore he's nothing but a shallow party rocker type.  Just because it's harder for me to see craft and devotion, let alone scope, in the works of artists I don't follow doesn't mean those qualities are lacking.
A different kind of myopia on my part.
Big thanks to Robert Trujillo. There may be something in your music I've neglected. Based on your actions, I will give your work another chance.
Meanwhile, here's a nice taste of Jaco to make everyone's day!



There now. Doesn't that feel better?

One for Fun

I missed the new Futurama last week. Ah well, it'll be around when i have time for it, in one form or another.
This piece of art tickled my fancy. I'm not a huge X-Men fan, but this pastiche was a treat!
If I can find it, I'll post the airbrush I did decades ago of the Next Generation crew as cartoon characters. Tasmanian Devil Worf was my favorite.
Meanwhile, the work of GottaBeCarl:

Orriginal Art Sundays # 47: A Decade of Drawings

For today, three pieces scattered over a decade.
First, the one everyone's done, the self-portrait at the drawing table.

Everybody's done one of these. My favorite is by Charles Vess.
Next up, a museum sketch I rather liked.

Finally, a cat!
I did this as a Sumi-E technique peice for a Haiku class I took as part of my Master's program.

This was part of a book I did a Japanese stab binding of. In the book, the cat disappears, a line per page, each word of the Haiku is added on the new page.

Since the first session of SES has ended, I hope to have time to do a proper page for A Private Myth this week! Wish me luck!

Original Art Sundays #46 (Wednesday): Pinkette and LaBrainne!

A bit late to the plate this week! Sorry! I will make amends next week- already have the work on hand and then some.
For this week, a combination of old and new work. All in one piece!
This page was done for the transsexual politics journal, TNT NEWS, in 1995.

This page is a response to a news story. A study was done that showed the hypothalamus of post-op MtF transsexuals had characteristics similar to those of genetic females, lending credence to the condition having a genetic component.
The editor was taken to task by an acquaintance for publishing this page. Seems the acquaintance saw it as being in favor of animal experimentation! That's certainly not the intent, any more than that was the intent in the great original Pinky & the Brain cartoons.
The color was added in the last couple days. I went way over the top with it to try to emulate the mania of the TV series.
Next week, either the sketches I have ready to go, the next page of A Private Myth (in progress) or a tribute page for Al Williamson (also in progress).

Original Art Sundays # 45: A Private Myth, p. 13

No time for a long post today, but I did want to get this up. Pretty happy with the layout and the poses.

Stipple is such fun! And I love that Terry Moore trick of a background black to isolate and unify panels!
More and more chatty stuff next week or sooner.

Songs of love and why it doesn't all fall apart

Twice in the last twelve hours, this song has come up. It seems just to post it now.
This is Hurdy Gurdy Man by Donovan. The rhythm comes from the laugh of the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, and relates to a universal cadence that all things follow.
There's an extra verse written by George Harrison.
When the truth gets buried deep,
Beneath a thousand years of sleep,
Time demands a turn-around,
And once again the truth is found,
Awakening the Hurdy Gurdy Man,
Who comes singing songs of love.

Here's a performance with that verse.





As we consider our very survival, threatened by a carelessly made wound to the planet, a wound emitting toxins into the sea that ultimately supports our life as much as the sun  and the air, let's take a minute and consider WHY we need to survive.

The introduction to this Shawn Phillips song is on point.




How important are our lives?
Do we care enough to put aside our greed and fear, and just help one another live?
I'm not a meditator, and my spiritual center is, well, not all that centered. But I have an idea of how the whole thing might work. It's fuzzy, as is much unscientific thought on the subject, but science and faith are intersecting in intriguing ways. There's no reason that atoms should even hold together, given that one of the three particles is neutral, and the other two, being positive and negative, should repel each other.
Therefore, since everything is composed of atoms, why doesn't it all fall apart?
On possibility is will, consciousness, God.
In The Cosmic Jackpot, physicist Paul Davies offers, along with other possibilities, a consensus theory. Everything exists because an aggregate consciousness has willed it to do so. Some call that The Universe. Others call it God.
Others just see it as us.
Vaughn Bode' called it The Management.

Some would say that wrapping these ideas in popular culture is doing them a disservice, that I should be dutifully reading the Bible, the Ghita, Jung, and more serious physics texts.
Maybe I'm just sloppy about my spiritual side.
Maybe.
But if we truly are here as a result of shared consciousness, if everything exists by consensus, appreciating its beauty and diversity can only help The Cause.
Thus Spake The Management.