Padded Cell Blues

Ever have one of those days, weeks, months, years when you just want to escape? Oddly enough, I've been feeling that way more and more these days, and I'm sure there are a few people who can relate. This one page bit I did for the back cover of RELUCTANT SADIST #7 struck a chord with me during these endless COVID-19 lockdown days. I don't know if this guy went to a better place, probably not, I can't think of anyone who lives in their head that is happy, but at least he escaped. I like the technique of a series of "photos" laid out to a tell a story; evidence of something that might actually have happened, though these days photos and video are evidence of nothing anymore as everything is so easy to fake. This idea also was ripe for animation and it's lived for too long in the back of my mind (a vast warehouse space not unlike the one where the Ark of the Covenant was stored) with hundreds, maybe thousands of other ideas gathering dust and classic Hollywood cobwebs, patiently still hoping that I might bring them to life. I've always loved getting ideas; that "a-ha moment" when the light comes on and I feel in touch with some new and different that the world may never have seen before. I'm good at recording my ideas, but not so good on the follow-thru of bringing them to the world. Some people see ideas as spirits, muses that choose a host, a portal to reach into this world, so those ideas should be nurtured and every effort made to give them expression. Unfortunately, my critic (working overtime right now to persuade me to delete this post and go on sleepwalking through another day) often sabotages any enthusiasm for the idea before I can even make a note or thumbnail sketch. Why is that? No matter, best to just put that critic in the corner, humor it, "Yes, yes, you are right. It is all shit and what is the point?" and carry-on anyway. Which is what I did when I decided the time was well past taking a run at making an animation from "Padded Cell Blues No. 2" (Yes, there is a number one, but that's a tale for another time.) As a first step in the process, I decided to digitally cut-out the individual "photos" and animate them as a previsualization for planning the final animation. I'm not sure which animation method (hand drawn cartoon, claymation, etc) that I will render the final piece in, but this was a good start to think about what the final piece might look like. I used the open source photo editor GIMP to create the animation (I am not a fan of Adobe's move to a subscription-based service), so if you are looking for a "free" (they do accept donations, and yes, I did) image creation and photo manipulation tool, check it out. I exported this as an animated GIF and then converted that into an MP4. Here is the final result. Note: this is a silent film, but the final will indeed have sound.

Never give-up on your ideas or dreams. Keep fighting!

Zahdah,

OK HW

I'm Not Dead Yet...

It has been too long since I posted here. There are many reasons, but I have come to realize that my "posting energy" these days gets expended on FaceBook, Twitter and Instagram, so there's nothing left for blogging. Besides, even when I was writing here on a regular basis, few eyes were hitting these words, so what's the point? There is so much demand for our eyes and attention these chaotic days, for those precious seconds and minutes of our lives, that one more chunk of random writing from an unknown human waxing on about an obscure underground/D.I.Y. comix from so long ago, seems like performance art for one. A random, mad, holy act for a god absent or maybe dead, or maybe never existed at all. But no matter, here I am. Strangely enough, it's the fact that I know that no one is likely to read what I am writing that compels me to drop my pebble in this pond. I'm sick to death (a tricky phrase to use in this pandemic days, but fuck it) of social media. All the vibrating, self-absorbed nonsense and free-flowing hostility and hot culture wars and the ghosts of dead friendships stinking up the cyberspace like a fart in a small elevator. Since I know these words will be unseen, this blog is a tiny cove safe from the jet skis and speed boats racing around and knocking the paddleboarders into the drink. 

So, after two years, I am motivated to write here again. There have been other opportunities that I let pass, for no apparent reason other than pure sloth.  But this is a new time, so get to the point, right?

I am working on the book again and I don't mean just picking at it, I mean actual progress, like ass in the seat, piling the bits and pieces into something that resembles a book. I decided to lash all the elements together to see if it made any sense and to understand how close I am to being finished. There was, as there often is with a creative endeavor, good news and the not so good. First with the positive, if I squint my eyes and cock my head, it looks kinda like a book. The less good news is, I have much more work to do before it is ready for a close up or to have a pin stuck in it or bow put on it. At least now I can see the holes that need filling and can make lists of clear tasks to move forward. The hill sits at one hundred and forty pages and will likely rise a bit higher by the end. This will likely just be a vanity project, but for me, it helps to honor that era of my life when I labored with intensity motivated by pure and innocent energies. It's been a lovely journey to dig through ancient boxes and rediscover the relics of my life from thirty years or more ago. I have to complete this task in order to move on to whatever I will do next.

So, thanks' for not reading this. 

OK HW