3417.
Right now, on one of the endcaps on one of the aisles of graphic novel and comics rows in the Coffee Room of Powell's City of Books, there are 6 roughly drawn yet thoughtfully-done and skillfully-executed cartoons. Here's one set.
There are six of them (they're still there as of last weekend), three on one side, three on the other. They appear to be drawn on imprecisely-trimmed foamcore board with a Sharpie. They seem to be very zeitgeist inspired, some obviously, others more indirectly.
Here's the other set:
Let's take 'em one-by-one. Top, left:
BLM. No explanation needed by now, I trust.
Next:
The Political Is Personal. For a variety of reasons I won't expound upon here (though I will eventually elsewhere) I have learned this to the bone over the last year: to the bone. Not just last week's presidential spasm, but a variety of events, votes both local and national have tied the political to the personal in my life like never before.
Thanks to 2016, I'll never look at politics quite the same way again.
This next one is enigmatic, and I'll leave the meaning for the inconstant reader to decode for themselves:
A lot of emotional responses obtain for that one above. None of which I can really put into words, but then, sometimes, art should do that to you.
That was the left side. Top right, now:
A young, hip, modern woman reads from a book on whose cover are the rubrics IMMIGRATION, SAME-SEX MARRIAGE, TRANSGENDER, CLIMATE CHANGE, EDUCATION, ABORTION, WAR.
Important issues before. Even more, after. It's fitting that a woman should be reading them, because I think we should be hearing more from women about things like this. We know they know a lot, but the last election strongly suggested that we don't really want to hear what they have to say.
I wish that would change. I think we're collectively going to be sorry that it isn't.
Another enigmatic one. Decode the meaning for oneself:
And this last one also spoke very loudly to me. I once aspired to cartooning; editorial cartoonists have long been heroes of mine, and I've gone on to be fortunate enough to get to know a few astoundingly well on Facebook (never let it be said that Facebook never did anything for me). And this is what they do.
A revolutionary act. Especially considering the info-tainment and ratings center that modern news seems to be evolving into.
A tiny, vital art gallery, in the coffee room at Powell's. Meditation during book church.
I highly commend it to you.
There are six of them (they're still there as of last weekend), three on one side, three on the other. They appear to be drawn on imprecisely-trimmed foamcore board with a Sharpie. They seem to be very zeitgeist inspired, some obviously, others more indirectly.
Here's the other set:
Let's take 'em one-by-one. Top, left:
BLM. No explanation needed by now, I trust.
Next:
The Political Is Personal. For a variety of reasons I won't expound upon here (though I will eventually elsewhere) I have learned this to the bone over the last year: to the bone. Not just last week's presidential spasm, but a variety of events, votes both local and national have tied the political to the personal in my life like never before.
Thanks to 2016, I'll never look at politics quite the same way again.
This next one is enigmatic, and I'll leave the meaning for the inconstant reader to decode for themselves:
A lot of emotional responses obtain for that one above. None of which I can really put into words, but then, sometimes, art should do that to you.
That was the left side. Top right, now:
A young, hip, modern woman reads from a book on whose cover are the rubrics IMMIGRATION, SAME-SEX MARRIAGE, TRANSGENDER, CLIMATE CHANGE, EDUCATION, ABORTION, WAR.
Important issues before. Even more, after. It's fitting that a woman should be reading them, because I think we should be hearing more from women about things like this. We know they know a lot, but the last election strongly suggested that we don't really want to hear what they have to say.
I wish that would change. I think we're collectively going to be sorry that it isn't.
Another enigmatic one. Decode the meaning for oneself:
And this last one also spoke very loudly to me. I once aspired to cartooning; editorial cartoonists have long been heroes of mine, and I've gone on to be fortunate enough to get to know a few astoundingly well on Facebook (never let it be said that Facebook never did anything for me). And this is what they do.
A revolutionary act. Especially considering the info-tainment and ratings center that modern news seems to be evolving into.
A tiny, vital art gallery, in the coffee room at Powell's. Meditation during book church.
I highly commend it to you.
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