A diary by means of a collage by means of a cartoon. Verbose explication in the comments. On hiatus. read comics the wrong way at: Latent Narratives
read comics the wrong way at: Latent Narratives
Many years ago I was friended on FB from a person I didn't recognize who enthusiastically took up a casual "catching up" conversation with me. After several back and forths, I finally had to admit that I had no idea who this person was (and was privately harboring the suspicion that the entire conversation was a scam tactic). It turned out that this was someone I had shared a house with for half a year some fifteen years prior. Angry and wounded, she called me solipsistic, and that was the end of our dialogue. As well as, presumably, the end of our seemingly one-sided friendship.This interaction sticks with me. So many people I talk to say this sort of thing happens all the time, and not to take it personally. On the other hand, the more I obsessively explore that broken tooth, the more I wonder whether it is an accusation that bears merit. If nothing else, as time moves on, I increasingly acknowledge the limits of my personal resources, which in turn leads to even more selectivity in my attention. If you feel left out, well, sorry. ...but not sorry much, right? Isn't this how the world works?Super busy with new job, this was another impromptu strip. I was very happy with the second and third frames, and particularly with the incidental coloring in the glass of the dissolving pill.Changing states, becoming something else. The pills falling from ledges and melting in glasses of water are dying, but they are also transitioning.I was listening to Bowie's 'Earthling' (1997) while working this one out, and "Telling Lies" caught my ear. This is a song that has never before quite impressed me, but when looking it up I saw that, on the release of the single, Bowie had promoted it by going online with two imposters to answer questions from fans. Bowie deliberately lied with each answer, while the imposters tried to guess at what might be truthful answer. Asked to rank the likelihood of the real Bowie (while knowing the rules of the game), the fanbase overwhelmingly placed him third. Which is to say that even as we know we lie to ourselves and to each other, we still don't ever know what's really going on. Or maybe we prefer *not* to know what's really going on.So, there's several themes here: a lifelong processing of disappointing other people by my not being there for them in the way they expect, an acknowledgement of the multitudes we contain, a vision of death and/or transition (encompassing the possibility of moving away from the former person who always disappoints), and the conclusion that all of this crap involves the lies we tell ourselves and each other. Maybe a cynical end this week, but also deeply sad. That's an image of Bowie Lazarus-era: death is coming. The cyclic nature of life cannot be shorted.I think I am good at drawing pills that look despondent.