So, Thursday night was Gallery Night at Wild Goose Creative and it was oodles of fun with lots of friends and plenty of good food and great conversation. Thanks so much to everyone who took the time to stop by and visit! My friend Peter Parker Robert Walker was on the scene with his trusty camera snapping away.
Origami in Flight
Delicious delectables by CK Catering
Reading… it’s fundamental!
Talkin’ about comics.
“Juxtaposed pictorial and other images in deliberate sequence, intended to convey information and/or produce an aesthetic response in the reader.”
A little extra Blink art
Up Next, the WWK Book Release Party!
As wonderful an evening as Thursday night was, I need to share something else with you.
It’s been remarked to me that Blink comes off as an intriguing mix of realism and idealism. I’ll take that as a supreme compliment, since that’s exactly what I’m going for. In the Blink short, “Tilting at Landfills,” I used the following quote from Frederick H. Hedge, “What we need most is not so much to realize the ideal but idealize the real.”
I also believe that it’s a foolish thing to avoid seeing and engaging in reality, no matter what avenue we use to attempt our idealistic escape. Try as we might, we cannot evade what is real and true forever. Not the “reality” which we fear to be true, but the reality that is true. The reality that is undeniable, because it is right there, the reality which exists in front of our faces.
Just before the reception, I drove down the alleyway (pictured at left), behind Wild Goose and Rumba Café to park my borrowed car and unload my supplies for the evening’s festivities. As I slowly made my way down the uneven pavement, I passed by a man and woman, who were both dressed in shabby cloths, holding stuffed animals and looking through the trash bins. What I was a very real reflection of what happens on the final page of “Wonka Wonka Kochalka.” This is no coincidence. This is reality and I’m not interested in looking away from it any more.
But I did.
I saw this reality, the reality which I am writing about--amid the trash and refuse, and I didn’t stop. I kept on going because I had something “important” to do.
Now, I don’t feel guilty for not stopping. But I’d like to think that when I am presented with the opportunity to engage in that aspect of reality again