a sunday is a sunday is a monday

castlescape

you’re looking at things come and gone, at dust and ash and the first grains of sandcastle season. needless to say, we’re just getting started.

sleepy tick:: we got our first bad review this week. we find ourselves feeling oddly proud, even if the reviewer’s criticisms are somewhat deflated by his professed affection for the watchmen movie. we’re thinking maybe we shouldn’t link to it, so as not to elevate it in the eyes of google, but interested parties can find the critique over at FobComics-dot-blogspot.

:: tick also received a considerably more flattering appraisal from the meticulous and insightful garbanzo of stumptown trade review. it’s a rare treat to have one’s work so attentively considered, and we highly recommend sending yours his way.

on the beach thumb:: we’ve been fielding requests for aid and instruction in the making of five-page folded mini-comics, in the manner of our oubliettes. cautious discussion of the format has also been turning up here and there. so we’re thinking we should probably build the methodology a proper home somewhere in this wild expanse of internet, a place where these one-sheet wonders can be described and discussed and disseminated. we’re searching even now for the perfect plot on which to begin construction, and we’re hoping to have the thing up and operating by mocca-time.  (if you’ve already tried it, or plan to, do keep in touch.)

nerd patrol thumb:: there are some new drawings in the gallery, along with another cinematography website (our best to date, we think). feedback, as always, is appreciated.

:: even critical feedback. perhaps especially; we’re always grateful to those who take it upon themselves to keep us humble, because we know what comes of the alternative. we have been places and seen sights and we know how things end.

they end like holidays, over rich loaves and airy cakes, in a sunny room, on a summer’s day. our hosts were sad to see us go, but they’d just received some good news: they would now be allowed to clear the the trees within a twenty-foot radius of their elegant new hampshire country home, the one into which they had graciously welcomed the likes of us for the long memorial weekend.  the local homeowners will soon enjoy vastly improved views of the lake they encircle.  they’ll look out their windows and see us, sitting in the sand, remembering the maya.  they’ll watch us rebuild their temples, magnificent and empty.  and then we’ll recede into the surrounding jungle, razed and regrown to be leveled again, that we might better understand the calamity that comes of playing house.

and so we appreciate those occasional reminders, be they little failures or strong waves, that our works are small, that the most majestic human edifice is only a model of what it’s meant to be, and that what grows in our shadow will fade in concert with its habitat.

shadowcastle

scribble