- My biggest take away from looking at a scale of the universe and me is that there are Giant Earthworms that are possibly longer than 7 meters. This knowledge triggers something in my lizard-brain that shouts "kill it with fire." This is not fair to the giant earthworm, which most likely possesses neither strange sonic sensors nor slobbering mandibles that seek to consume me, and I will try not to move through the rest of my life quietly hoping for its destruction. It is hard to unlearn a distaste for what seems like the abominable.
- "You're definitely in a strange place. But here's the sun!"
- Growing up I thought of the Atlantic Ocean as The Ocean and the Pacific Ocean as a large body of water in which certain oceanic things probably occurred, but which were almost certainly less-than when compared to the Atlantic majesty at play off our country's eastern seaboard. It's swung around to the opposite now -- I've lived near enough to the Pacific for long enough to have been recruited into night swims, been driven off from nighttime bonfires by friendly policemen, and have ridden my bicycle close enough to be sprayed by ocean foam. The Atlantic has retreated into my personal mythology. I remember wading into it on childhood vacations, disliking how much sand it deposited into my shorts, and being told that anything deeper than my waist could theoretically hold sharks. But the Pacific ... not that it was nice to me, or sweet, but I have a better sense of its moods and its shape. It's an edge of the world, though not an end. You can go to it, look over, and return to your life.
- (Holy smokes, Body Talk, pt. 3!)
- I waver between thinking about craft and thinking "this is simply how I do what I do." Sometimes I think I have a choice. I've had this torn out page from Paul Pope's ADAM STRANGE serial that ran in Wednesday Comics sitting around my office for weeks now -- it had hung near our front door in LA -- and today while staying quiet on a conference call I realized it fit perfectly between a calendar and the corner of the room. I stuck it to the wall with scotch tape and felt a sense of relief, as if I'd suddenly remembered where it belonged. It's almost always the same way with work. I'll think about form, move things around, find different ways to say the same thing -- but then sometimes everything just fits. I feel relieved, and at the same time embarrassed that I hadn't just done it that way from the start. I try to remember that it only fits that way now from all the time I spent looking at it any number of other ways.
- The page reads "Her RADIANT SMILE -- would she STILL want her BELOVED if she KNEW the TRUTH...? ...if she KNEW that on earth I am nothing but a TIRED OLD MAN...?"
- There's something to all this Doctor Who stuff. He looks different every few years, but he's always the same kind. Just popping up a little differently in certain places.
- Lately all I want to listen to are country spirituals, but all iTunes can find are 90s Michael Jackson songs. Country spirituals, and Body Talk parts one through three.
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