Busman’s holiday time: sitting in the cafe in the park, working on this adaptation of Shelley’s “Ozymandias” I started back in ‘15. It’s finally found a home and a deadline: the 15th, for the 2019 edition of Caesar’s “Feast Yer Eyes” anthology.
It will be printed in B&W on newsprint but the original remains in color.
... or in various places around New Orleans.
Busman’s holiday continues. Let’s see how far I can get on 37% of my battery left.
Doesn’t feel like I got a ton done but that’s about two hours on this thing today now. And there’s two more panels finished plus one with some important contrast touchup. Rendering it out is pretty slow. Anyway. Have a sunset.
poetry ramble Show more
Despite my lit degree I honestly just know the most famous poets, but I'm extremely fond of the Romantics. They were unafraid to write of the grand cosmos on an epic scale despite all the confusion and mysteries that make it hard to capture in prose.
A lot of poetry from other movements is more on the scale of a relationship, a memory, a place, or a single trait of life-- smaller scale stuff that feels to me like stuff I could just be blunt and direct about, things I'm good at analyzing and pulling to pieces without needing to evoke it metaphorically. Frex they'd write about time, or love, or something.
But the Romantics addressed these huge questions of meaning and purpose and what it is all worth, often more transpersonal or mysterious. Things that are outside of our ability to understand, sometimes even to experience, but still worth wondering at. Which is something I have a drive to sort out, and hopelessly inadequate rational tools owing to being just one brain with one set of memories, and poetry is a really good way of examining all that. Something like the futility of hubris in Ozymandias asks whether it was ever meaningful in the first place, and we see that we can't quite get an answer (because-- meaningful to who? What constitutes "worth it"?), but it sure does point directly at the question.