What haven’t we found
lurking in the bright meadows
because we’re more apt to scour
the long, draining night?
The slums of faded parchments
have less to fear now,
their faces never slated to grow
the lines that would wrinkle their brow
and make them memorable.
When flowers aren’t cared for
they Continue reading
Whenever a book moves me so thoroughly that it becomes an instant favourite the moment I close the back cover, I am compelled to sit down and write a review to sing its praises. With the Sculptor, I’d initially just sat here speechless, absorbing how remarkable of a read-in-a-single-sitting book it is. But now I know how to explain how positively it affected me.
I was fortunate enough to see Scott McCloud give a keynote address at the Toronto Comic Arts Festival in 2015. I don’t attend much public speaking (I should change that) but I can fervently say Scott is one of, if not, the best I’ve ever seen. I can still recall many of the intricacies of his 40-some-odd minutes–how he championed the medium of comics, how it’s changed modern media and how it isn’t just about men in tights–but mostly I want to say I remember walking away that day feeling like I met a man who truly understood passion. Not only that, but a man who helped me understand my own passion better, as well.
Scott talked about the craft, but mostly he talked about what the craft meant: what it could do, how it could do it and where it could take you. There are things in life that are worth devoting yourself to whether or not they get you any farther along in the end, because without them you might not feel the need to make it to the end anyway. The Sculptor is a book that conveys that sentiment, in all the touching, serious, sad, tragic and real ways imaginable.
Life flashing before your eyes.
That is to say, in the only ways that are worth living for.
Total is National Poetry Day. I felt compelled to avoid free verse and try to polish this one up a bit more. So of course I wrote a Shakespearean sonnet for my fiance.
“The Ship Sonnet”
Listen, hear the joy of my loving mind;
Wherein dusty thoughts are swept out the ears
And true, red hearts beat together and bind
Like a stable ship to sail through life’s years.
Billowed sails are crafted from memories
And gusts, strong and tempted by one deep gaze, Continue reading
The greatest day in May.
Free Comic Book Day (FCBD) is the first Saturday in May and it’s a glorious Saturday indeed. Nerds, fans, readers, watchers, cosplayers and the curious and well-versed alike head to participating comic shops in North America and around the globe to get free comics.
Comic publishers specially produce comics just for FCBD and retailers then give these titles away, free of charge, in an effort to promote comics culture. It’s not just about getting free stuff (though that’s always a good thing), it’s about heading out and supporting local shops, helping promote literature (more on that below) and enjoying the nature of creativity, daydreaming and overall nostalgia found in the adventure of comics. FCBD is a big deal to nerds, collectors and fans, but I want to show you why it should matter to you. Continue reading
Ichor-black streams pooling
on either side of the poor
cinder block basin–
two rivers diverged in the gloom
The flipped-switch automaton-voice
drawls over Continue reading
I first started reading DMZ almost seven years ago, early into my second year of university. I had, at the time, just recently started reading comics after nearly a decade-long hiatus and I found myself, an English & Creative Writing major, trying to get my hands on anything and everything I could absorb and dissect. The Iraq War was still relatively fresh, Barack Obama had yet to make Presidential history, we were post 9/11 but pre financial crisis and here was DMZ – a fresh series that came along with a tragic and terrible vision of a future not so different than the present we were living. And that was frightening: Continue reading
Would that I could
ignite the seven seas and sail
a breadth of ocean fire
hitherto the mind-scream of
To have my life’s sails croak
and billow in the Continue reading