Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Double the posting... triple the regular price

"I never sleep... cuz sleep is the cousin of death..." - Nas

double post day... was going through some of my digital junk and came upon this outtake... it's originally from the story Meet the Parents, (it's since been cut from the story, more on that later) from Volume 2... The story compares the lives of two people who died on election night 2008, a socially conscious college student and a homeless junkie. This scene opens at a grave yard, where obstacles are impeding the junkie's burial...

Truth be told, even if there was no election, no one would have noticed to mourn this John Doe. Bought some bad heron, the rest is elementary. Even Barney curses this cat’s lifestyle and self inflicted homicide this morning. He glares at his supervisor. If it wasn’t for this motherfucker, Barney would already be done, he would be out celebrating what was the best morning of his life. But this asshole chose this morning to die;

“You’re killin’ me, a fuckin’ rock?”

“Not a rock, bedrock or something... We gotta get equipment up here. Until then, we can't dig over here.”

“He my last one, you telling me we gotta dig a whole other grave before I get out? Ain’t nobody else in here you can harass today?”

“Nobody put the fuckin’ rock down there. Go dig the fuckin’ grave on the other side of the cemetery.”

“Today is my holiday mine furer. Just me and my people. You don’t get to order me around.”

“Shut the fuck up Kunt-a. Just remember, if it wasn’t for me and the millions of other white people out there, your boy doesn’t win anyway.”

“You mean without the last two term, white-devil, republican president, shit wouldn’t have gotten so fucked up that people finally let the nigger have a crack at it.”

“That so Kunt-a?”

“Yes, suh, bows... ain’t no way y’all was gonna that a nigga a chance if shit wasn't broken. We needed eight years of Bush before we ran out of other option.”

Barney wasn’t mad at white people or his supervisor. He didn't even give a fuck about who the president was at the time. Truth is, he was functionally drunk by noon on most days and didn't take the shit he said seriously--even if he did, he'd have a hard time remembering what he was supposed to take seriously.

He was, however, pissed off at that this fucking junkie for choosing a Tuesday night to cop some shitty heroin.

---

after workshopping the story (shout to gotham)... i decided to axe this scene, since this convo doesn't really add to the rest of the story (although, in my defense... i think it's fucking funny)...

time to get things rolling with this group...

--End Transmission--

Apocrytha


so... i haven't posted shit since May4...

not for lack of material (i swear i'm starting to feel like porky big trying to convince people this shit exists), but life (more on that in a minute)...

i finished this pic in the spring (see that tiny sig?) while watching the education system that employs me continue to fail scores of children... as outspoken as i tend to be... i grew frustrated with the system and silenced myself as injustices were committed...

this piece (Water color/oil paint/marker) was inspired by the Lupe Fiasco single "Words I Never Said" and was born of that frustration...

TANGENT: If you haven't already... check out Lupe Fiasco's Lasers... a little dance track happy for long time fans (like myself)... but a hot record...

anyhow... been reflecting on the "writer" side of the equation and decided to agent hunt... considering my vow to forsake the industry, this was a humbling choice to make... but my experiences navigating the publishing world (mostly) dolo while working full time has helped me appreciate the complexities of this undertaking...

so i'm focusing on the creative side... and sooner or later (planning for the former, but only god knows whether it'll be the latter) i'll have someone ready to assist the business side... that's when phase one will be done...

i might still release something this fall... i've had a rush of inspiration come at me (again) and i've been editing something i felt was nearing completion...

i also started The Naked City Writers... a collective of nyc area writers... our first meeting is tomorrow night and i'm feeling inspired...

--End Transmission--

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Murphy's Law...

... you know... "everything that can go wrong" and whatnot...

anyway... as the energy of spring flowed through me last week (or was that the black label and ginger?), I promised to be more of a 'net presence (a seemingly common pledge from me, kinda like "I'm not gonna drink anymore)... butt fucking technology...

it started with my scanner... now... i haven't used the thing in a minute... but it fell over and died last week... so... i have all these dynamic visuals that are confined to the page until I can stop drinking long enough to remember to get a new scanner...

was far more preoccupied with the visuals this week than the typed word... and i figured now was a good time to fill in the blanks about the Portrait of the Artist illustration series... it's basically my life in pics... In addition to Year One (see last week's blog), I have completed pieces of ages 24, 26 and 30... since the scanner's shitty this week, I'm gonna do some image sharing next time...

oh shit... at some point... the computer screen started to become a blur of black and white... not sure if it's because I'm tired or drunk... time to drink that lingering doubt away...

--End Transmission--