5 Signs SXSW Has Arrived

1. It took me twice as long to get to work last night
Nuff' said.

2. I almost saw a fight last night
Positioned at my valet booth, I have a unobstructed view through the window of a bar. Listen: Big, ape-like man is apparently acting surly and misogynistic. Female bartender interjects on female customers behalf, tries to take Apeman's beer away. Apeman refuses. Female bartender sticks her fist in his beer, and tells him to "drink it now". Apeman becomes enraged. Apeman is thrown out of bar by 4 smaller men. Words are had. Apeman kicks a guy in the balls. More threats. Apeman finally comprehends that he's not wanted. Apeman reluctantly sulks away.

3. I was almost in a fight last night
Two women and a man approach me and ask if I would call them a cab. This is generally bad etiquette since valets only have their personal cell phones, so why not use your own? I skirt the issue by telling them I don't have a cell phone, which is the absolute truth. The woman gives me a scowl. "Really?", she says, not as in "Really, you don't have a cell phone?", but more as in "Really, you're going to lie to my face? You ought to to come up with a better excuse because everybody has a cell phone. And you look ridiculous in that day-glow yellow vest with reflective stripes." I try to convince her. I say, "No, REALLY I don't have a cell phone." But really I'm saying "No REALLY I don't have a cell phone, and I know I look ridiculous in this vest but you don't have to be a bitch about it." At this point she makes a sound with her mouth which is hard to describe, but everyone is familiar with. It kinda sounds like "uuhh!". Imagine a trust-fund baby with entitlement issues learning that Starbucks has run out of their chosen coffee. That's the sound she made. They proceed to push rudely past me without even saying farewell. They've essentially called me a no good liar.

Now, I'm pretty laid back guy who generally avoids conflict, so I'm going to blame my next move on Apeman's testosterone laced pheromone which still clung to the air. As they walked away I said, "With an attitude like that, why would we?" (call them a cab). Admittedly, it was bratty thing to say, but at least it was reasoned and somewhat intelligent; moreso than calling them "bitches" or "assholes" or something. The man took a few more steps before deciding that he should probably stand up for his girlfriends. He turns around in the middle of the street and starts doing the whole "You got a problem?!" routine. I can't remember what I said to him next, but it must've been pretty good, because it turned him into an Apeman and caused him to come nearer. Now for the uninitiated: when Man A aggressively approches Man B, Man B cannot back down if he hopes to maintain a shred of pride. I almost said "shred of dignity", but it's mostly about pride, stupid male pride. So although the guy was bigger than me, I didn't back down. It helped having my co-worker, Greg, there. And then: "Comeon! I'll take both of you!!!" I'm starting to like these odds, but trying to resist being transformed into an Apeman. We're also giving him the opportunity to throw the first blow, lest this goes to court. It's probably good nothing happened, though he did call us pussies as he walked away. 

Human behavior is so fascinating.

4. I socialized with other human beings over alcohol last night
Perhaps our confrontation with Apeman Jr. was a bonding experience of sorts; after work Greg offered to introduce me to some good bars and people. At one point found myself walking down east 6th singing harmony for a rousing rendition of "I Want It That Way" by the Backstreet Boys.

5. It's stunningly beautiful today
The SXSW people really couldn't pick a better time, the weather is spectacular right now. Warm days, cool nights, and a wonderful breeze blowing through the freshly sprouted leaves.

Learning to Live Again

It's been over 2 years since I've convened with my notebook in a meaningful way. I had forgot what a powerful tool it is; a place for self-examination, personal therapy, random thoughts, random-er doodles, incubating ideas, creative freedom, and non-judgement. It feels good to resume this relationship, notebook and I. Who knows what will come of it?

Flash in a Pan

Improvised Jazz makes you itch. It makes your fingers tap and your limbs spasm. It makes you want to come unglued from your skin and fly around the ceiling. It makes you uncomfortable where you sit.

Other times you want to shout out. Emote some loud crystalline sound which isn't yet a word but should be. It makes you want to melt into a pool of quivering jelly. To return to an amoeba. In the nurturing, chaotic oceans where our multi-celled brethren evolved, I'm sure jazz was playing. Desperate, frenzied, improv jazz.

I guess what I'm trying to say is: last night my friend Thomas took me to see Hamid Drake, Kidd Jordan, and Ingebrigt Haker Flaten perform as the Drake Trio. Here's a Hamid Drake Solo. Now throw in a legendary sax player and a virtuoso upright bassist and you have last night's show.

It wasn't even the music itself which made last night's experience extraordinary. It was how the musicians disappeared into the music. It's like the music poured through them, and they, as individual human beings, ceased to exist. Even the audience seemed to disappear. A spell was cast, a trance, where nothing existed except mad, furious sound. Sound which spoke everything and nothing at once. If this seems like nonsense, go see a show like this. It's hard to understand until you've experienced it yourself.

Drawing and improv jazz are similar. When I look at the drawings I'm most proud of, I see a common thread. I didn't draw any of it. Meaning: I wasn't self-aware or thinking at all. I didn't even have a concept beforehand or even desire for a final product. I was simply there, allowing it to come. For me, this is a difficult and fleeting state to be in. I found it inspiring how these musicians could remain in this state for two hours. If I can learn to do that, "Oh, the Places I'll Go!"

Last night's performance also made me realize how there's something rare and immensely beautiful about art created with no commercial consideration. It exists for it's own purpose, and what better purpose is there?

The Dandelion Thief

As I stolled through my neighborhood this evening, I found a patch of grass with ripe dandelions patiently waiting for the wind. I picked three proud stalks, walked three careful blocks, and blew the the seeds into the air, watching them gently fall between the blades of grass in my own front yard.

I wonder. Will I, someday, have dandelions of my own?

Book Review: A Couple of Boys Have the Best Week Ever!

At the SCBWI conference there was a bookstore selling books by authors and illustrators in attendance. Having just won a Caldecott Honor a week prior, a little book called All the World (written by Austinite Liz Garton Scanlon, Illustrated by Marla Frazee) seemed to be getting All the Attention. So mid-way through the day, when it was announced there were only 3 copies left, I hastily made my way to the bookstore, brutally pushing little old ladies out of the way when necessary. I still wasn't quick enough. All the World was sold out. It turned out to be a blessing, however, because instead I picked up another Caldecott Honor book by Marla Frazee titled, A Couple of Boys Have the Best Week Ever!

I'm so glad I found this book! Even though All the World is very good, this book is more along the lines of what I'm looking to do.

First off, it's illustrated by Marla Frazee, so needless to say, the pictures are wonderful and fit the text as seamlessly as a soundtrack. But how is the story itself? After all, Marla is known as an illustrator, not an author.

I think she nailed it. The characters feel lively & real, and she clearly knows what makes young boys tick. The average boy (especially when he gets together with a friend) is not interested in museums or learning about flowers at nature camp. Marla knows and shows that young boys are happy to be left to their own devices, which most often include: rough-housing, eating junk food, and playing video games. She doesn't forget how adults present "edifying" activities for children, but understands that ultimately it's the children who decide what interests them.

Not everybody likes this view of children, and many still believe that picture books must show how children should behave rather than how they do behave. Taking that a step further: some people believe children's books must show how the world should be as opposed to how it is. (examples: this amazon review, and this blog post) I have no problem presenting an alternative world to kids - a Utopian vision for example - but to gloss over reality and pretend everyone is "perfect" represents a covert form of moralism, which I find repugnant and obsolete since the days of Ursula Nordstrom.

I think those who complain that this book has no moral, fail to see the subtle lesson contained within. Marla allows this lesson to go down as sweet as syrup, so that you don't even know you've learned something important about life. I think that's the way to do it.

Personally, I learned a lot of lessons from this book - especially about illustration and the craft of picture books. For me, it was an education on the pacing and layout of picture book illustrations. I enjoyed how Marla used many illustrations on a single page, weaving them in and out between the text, creating action and a sense of cohesion. I also liked how she avoided repetition by breaking up these multi-illustrated pages with glorious, full, double-page spreads. It allows the reader to take a break from the action, rest, and enjoy the beautiful scenery. I also learned how speech bubbles, which are traditionally found in comic books, can make a wonderful addition to children's books as well.

Finally, I learned a thing or two about humor in kid's books. Often time it seems that children's books resort to cheap laughs by using potty humor (and it's true: young kids do love booger jokes), or over-the-top silliness. In contrast, in this book Marla Frazee uses a quiet kind of humor boarding sarcasm. A favorite device she uses is incongruent text and image. For example, at one point it reads, "He had never been away from home for an entire week, so he was very sad when his mother drove away." Yet right under this text it shows the boy with a great big smile on his face yelling: BYE! At another point it reads, "Nature Camp was just so great." And the picture shows the boys hiding inside the house on a beautiful day, speech bubbles reading: "Wanna go outside?", "Nope." I love how Marla gives her audience credit by allowing smart humor. It's a smart choice on her part. Most of the children I know have a more sophisticated sense of humor than their adult counterparts.

Yikes! This review became much longer than I expected, but there's just so much in this book. I recommend it to anyone, but especially to writers and illustrators working on their craft.

Finding Time

Where did my time go? It must be around here somewhere... I swear I just had it!

Maybe it's on my desk.

Hmmm... wallet, dirty dishes, bills and overdue car registration. I start moving the clutter and unearth a sketchbook and some lonely pens. Sorry guys, I'll be back with you as soon as I find my time! The notebook which once housed my thoughts peeks out from under a pile of books I've been meaning to...

The phone rings.

I glance at the caller ID and see it's my mom. Sorry mom, I'm trying to find my time right now! The machine answers and I listen...

"Hi honey, guess my busy boy is out enjoying the day. Gimme a call when you can, it's been... allllmost a month now..."

The guilt hits me. Not even Judas Iscariot would ignore a call from his mother! It's okay, it's okay though! I'll call her back as soon as I find my time! It's here somewhere!

Okay... who had it last? My girlfriend. I love being with her, but if she takes my time without asking one more god-damned...!

Okay... calm down.... deep breath...

I walk outside and into the backyard. The sun and trees help me think.

Maybe I left my time with a friend. Nah... not likely. I try to hang out with each of them once a week, but often fail miserably. And I don't even have that many! Maybe I need less friends. Less people to give my time. Less people to disappoint.

I sigh and look at the clouds.

Maybe I need to live in the forest. Far away from this society and it's endless mental trash. Far away from this culture and it's entertaining sedatives.

I could live alone surrounded by pines, just me and my little cabin. Then I could take my time and lock it in a little chest and hide it underneath the floorboards. I'd walk the mountain side during the day, and chop wood, and grow vegetables, and talk to my goats and to myself and then at night I would come inside and make a little meal and drink a little wine, and when the forest became dark and frightening, I would lock the doors and the shut the blinds and remove the floorboards and unlock the chest and then it would be just me with my time, all to myself, forever.

Wait, wait, I know! I left my time at work! It's okay though, I have to be there in 20 minutes.