art stuff

It’s one of those posts where I actually write about something. WOW. I was looking around my room at the artwork on my walls, and remembered back a couple of years to the time I was gonna do comic book and art stuff for a living (not like when I ran Graphics in Foyles, like as a proper job) , and sort of missed it. I figured I’d write a blog about my favourite artists, and then you can look ’em up and the world will be a better place for it.

Christy Roads – I first stumbled across Christy’s stuff when I ordered Insubordination in at Foyles, her artwork is girlish without being cute and punk without being scruffy. I love it. She did the cover art for a million and one things that you own ( the good replacements tribute record – dan padilla/chinese telephones split..) She has a new TPB – Bad Habits out on Soft Skull in October.

Tara McPherson – I met Tara a few years ago after reading an interview with her in Punk Planet and findind out she was putting out a book with Dark Horse, I got in touch with her to see if I could book the london date of the tour. We became instant friends sharing a healthy love of all things comic and alcohol related. She is still the hardest working and most talented person I know. Roll on this years visit.

Nate Powell – I want to make it clear that I adored Nate Powell’s artwork and comics long before he was pictured wearing a jawbreaker shirt in the Thurston Moore edited Punk House book. Cos he is awesome. Tiny Giants is my favourite, you can get it from Soft Skull and probably nowhere in London, London SUCKS for indie comics. Okay, maybe you can get it from Gosh, they’re pretty good with Soft Skull and Top Shelf.

Adrian Tomine – The only man who is better at line art than Dan Clowes, well, in my opinion anyways. And if you’ve read the early Optic Nerve collection then you’ll remember how clunky and scruffy his lines used to be. Everything he draws is amazing – this makes up for the fact that all his comics are slightly depressing  looks at Asians in America. So beautifully drawn though. You should buy Summer Blonde

Kurt Halsey – Alright, I am blantantly a 14 year old girl for Kurt Halsey, he’s just so darn good at making me feel all emo. A couple of years ago Jamie bought me some Kurt prints and Robyn cried instantaneously on looking at one of them. Kurt Halsey melts punk rock hearts. And makes you want to be in love, and listen to mixtapes. I have been thinking about getting some Halsey ink forever. Downside is you can buy limited edition runs of some of his stuff in UO in the States now. That being said, I did get my vinyl bat for about $20 or something.

Jamie McKelvie – Look – someone from England! This is testament to how much I like Jamie’s artwork. I’ve known him a while now and his work gets better and better. He may read this so I don’t want to get too gushy. You should pick up Phonogram if you’re old enough to remember the early 90s and Suburban Glamour if you enjoy well drawn attractive girls. Both are available on Image.

This stupid wordpress theme is sort of limiting for inserting images, so you’ll have to just click the links.

I don't like nature – it reminds me of hippies…

I’ve watched the first couple of episodes of jpod today.
It’s not quite as bad as I expected it to be (and by that I mean, slightly better than chuck) but it’s not good. They’ve got Ethan pretty much spot on, but Cowboy is completely different than I imagined him. And they’ve made Bree asian, in the book she was a Betty Page type, the father is either the most annoying or the most awesome character ever, I haven’t quite decided yet.
This is the way I spent my last sunday at Miles house.
Should hear back about reference checks and put down a deposit in the next couple of days, and if all goes to plan, I’m moving on Thursday. I’m excited about the cat, and my own space. I’m less excited about sleeping alone, but it has to happen….

Blogged with the Flock Browser

love in the age of office superstores

Last night Lou and I attended the Coupland talk *in celebration of The Gum Thief* at the Bloomsbury Theatre.
I’ve seen Coupland talk at this venue twice previously, for the releases of Hey Nostradamus (the boy I was with at the time, fell asleep during this one) and J-Pod (at the time no-one had any inkling just how bad it would be. The audience were pretty much the same as every other time. A few people you look at and think you might be friends with, but mostly you wonder what it is that these people find to relate to in the books that you love. Yes – I am shallow, I judge people on appearance – don’t pretend you don’t. Actually, it’s not just appearance, it’s the annoying pre-talk chatter and lack of reference. I know I’m being a nazi about this, but you know how I feel about the Doug.

After a bumbling introduction by a Blackwells employee (oh, how I miss bookstore folk) he took the stage, and was as warm and random and softly spoken and funny and smart and sarcastic as he always comes across. This is one of my favourite things about him. That he is the exact way you imagine him to be. Rants about chinese killer toothpaste and the made in china sabotaged Boggle edition he had bought for his Boggle tournament ( 5 letter minimum, but be prepared to be laughed at if you do) admissions that the character Mr Rant is mostly based on him.

The curious thing about Coupland is that regardless of the fact that he has been doing this for 17 years, he never looks that comfortable doing so. There was less sharing of his internal monologue this time, some sweeping generalizations about his readers (they’re mostly Mac users with an IQ above 110) which was then disproved by the idiot London crowd (Even if you did own a PC would you raise your hand, proud of the fact? I know that in the past when I paid for my own computers I didn’t feel good about the fact) he talked a little about Helvetica and Sharpies and all the things that make the universe okay. Read mostly from Glove Pond, and towards the end, seemed to have some kind of revelation on stage, and announced that he thought that this was the last reading he was going to do. Seriously. He thought that this part of his life was over now.

This is what spurred me into actually getting in line for him to sign my book. I don’t usually do that fangirl shit, but if this was really the last chance I was going to get to meet him, I’d probably regret it forever.

Lou and I queued for about 20 minutes, all the while trying to disassociate ourselves from the couple behind us who kept trying to join our conversation. I actively try and look unapproachable, are these people completely socially inept? A brief exchange about how hideous jpod was led into them telling us how awful they thought Girlfriend in a Coma was. It was then that Lou and I turned around and ended any dialogue. Don’t ever say anything bad about my favourite book, ESPECIALLY not when you’re wearing bootcut jeans.

So, we met Doug, he was warm (like, blooded) he signed our stuff, commented on how my copy was dog-eared ( I bought it on the day of release, I’m a proper Coupland geek) took our picture (that was Lou’s idea – AND it came out with us looking all-kinds-of-special) and we said goodbye.

The way you feel after seeing him speak, is the way you feel after you’ve finished one of his books. Sort of content but melancholic and like you’re living in a slightly different universe than everybody else.

Walking through Russell Square a bag lady was throwing tiny torn up pieces of paper on the floor as she walked, like some kind of a bizarre breadcrumb trail. After she’d passed us and we inspected them more closely, we realised that they were tiny torn up pieces of porn.

There couldn’t have been a more fitting end to our Coupland evening than a bag lady throwing porn confetti.

It’s those little things that fuck me up the most.

I didn’t go see Kevin Devine and Chin Up Chin Up tonight. I thought it might have made me worse. Yesterdays good mood completely evaporated by the time I got to the office.

I (eventually) finished Jpod today, and although I didn’t like it very much, and it felt contrived and wrong and like it was written to be broadcast by the people behind chuck at NBC, I was still sad that it was over, fictional friends are always harder to let go than real life ones. And it’s not just that these characters are percet, for I am a big fan of character flaws, in you know, characters. In real life people they tend to leave a bad taste in my mouth. Not least of all mine.
Why don’t the people i work with exhibit any fun geeky couplandesque qualities. I’ve often wondered what it would be like to live in Microserfs. Then I could partake in the breakfast cereals decadence conversation, and it would be the 90s. And everything would feel slightly less hopeless, and not so old.
I am getting better at being okay with realising I really can only rely on myself. People schmeople.
Today has been confusing.

Fucking solar eclipse in Virgo.

I don’t like not being in control of other peoples perception of me. I’m re-reading pretty in punk to try and make some sense of this. I think I need a punk rock therapist. I really don’t think that you can figure me out, without at least a slight pop-cultural frame of reference. It can’t all be as basic and Freudian as first assumed eh?

It’s 10 days tomorrow, til I turn 30. I’ve mostly stopped freaking about it, I don’t think I’ll stop beating myself up about the things I feel I should’ve done though. Fixing me is hard work.

But for now, I guess I’ll just sit here and listen to Jim Yoshii and think it all out.