Not content with one project of a literary bent, I’ve somehow found myself roped into working on an anthology with the Boston Comics Roundtable, the Boston-area indie comics creator group.
Spellbound II is “Modern Magic.” Where tech meets hex, touch screen Ouija boards exist, and the WiFi fairy is the godmother we all need.
My role will be selecting the comics with my co-editors, and designing/laying out the book itself. I’m very excited to be part of this project. The BCR releases excellent anthologies. The aim is to have the book in hand by early June, just in time for the convention season.
Dimensions: Trim 7” x 8.5”, image safe area 6.5” x 8” — no bleeds
Color: Black & White or Grey scale
Page count: 1 – 6 pages
Oh dear, another month gone and I’ve not made any posts!
Life’s been very busy here. Job applications, interviews, working part time, and my current project of Far Off Places. I’m doing layout for the magazine, which is really exciting. It is very time-intensive, but coming along nicely.
We’ll be officially launching the magazine on 9 March at the STAnza poetry festival in St Andrews. Which means that I’m finishing up the magazine, and some individual pamphlets. It’s a lot to be doing, but a lot of fun.
Also really good for refreshing me! Placing things in InDesign is actually really calming.
I’ll have a link here when the magazine does go live.
Also! We’re now accepting submissions for Issue II! Theme is ‘the back of beyond.’ We’re accepting subs through 31 March (of the written variety, but I’ll also accept sandwiches and yellow submarines).
What happens when you combine four friends, sunshine and rain on Charlotte Square, and poetry quaffed like wine?
Clearly, you found a literary magazine.
After much debate and deliberation over names, mission and what sort of magazine we would found, we launched the website last week, opened our email to submissions, and wait for them to come pouring in. We’ve had several so far, which we are ecstatic about!
Far Off Places is the name of our whimsical collection of writing and illustrations, which we’re hoping to launch in March (provided that we have enough submissions). The theme of our first issue is Fairy Tales Retold.
Curious? Check out our website or leave a comment!
I’m very excited. I’m head of social media and art director, so that means I’m laying out the magazine as well as maintaining the Facebook page and Twitter account. The Facebook page is a little dull at the moment, but I’m going to be updating it more frequently soon.
I’ve lived in the UK for a year now. One year, with only a brief sojourn back to the States. One year.
One year. One year. Living on my own. Responsibilities. Education. Academia. Heartbreak. Making friends. Seeing these friends move away. Interviews. Starting jobs. Design. Worrying. Worrying about if the government will let me stay here, or if I’ll have to return to the States. Will I get to immigrate? Will I have to return to the land of my birth (I don’t call it ‘home’)?
Trips to London. Trip to the Highlands. Pilgrimage to Manchester. Concerts. Theatre. Adventures. Swing dancing. Saying hello. Saying good bye. Moving. Leases. Commutes. Thoughts too complex to be expressed as any more than phrases. Moments. Music. Friends. Poetry. Film-making. Nineteen Eighty-Four.
Fish and chips. Forays into vegetarianism. Bacon beckons. Tea. Biscuits. Brie. Late night chats. Early morning conversations. Sometimes the same thing. Mistakes. Regrets.
Laughter. Tears. Sobs into the night. Loneliness. Frustration. Disappointment. Elation. Love. Token American. Belonging.
As my dissertation draws into a close (at this point, the thing is printed, bound and submitted), I realized that my odyssey can be recounted in five songs. It’s more the feeling (and title) of the song than the lyrics, but enjoy away.
No class! I can do whatever I want! It’s sunny, I can research outside! Mum and sister are in town, I can take some time off!
Things aren’t going quite as I anticipated…
As the deadlines draw nearer…
16 August 2012
The thing is in…and I am so tired…it’s a cold and its a broken hallelujah…now to recovery and celebrate with the friends I’ve been ignoring for the last few weeks.
And as it finally sets in…
FREEEDOM! Now I’m off to enjoy the sunny weather, the Fringe, and time with friends before I become a responsible adult.
Music. It calls to me. There’s something visceral about it. It grabs me and twists my gut, weaving its way into my subconscious. Songs stick in my mind, they refuse to leave, perfect ear worms. The above song, “Speedway” by Morrissey is one of these songs (I can’t help it. I move to the UK and I develop a love of the Smiths and Morrissey’s solo stuff). I listen to his stuff while working; I find it to be just the sort of thing I need to get focused.
But enough on Morrissey (for this post).
Music in itself. I find myself drawn to it, perhaps more than any other art form (strange, for a writer/painter/graphic designer). I’m stopped by its sheer incredibility. The range of emotions, the sense of calm, fear, love evoked by notes expresses the human condition more than words or paintings ever could.
To quote Aldous Huxley, “After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.”
The past few months have been difficult ones for me. The coursework has been particularly strenuous in a different way from last term. My health hasn’t been the best (nothing serious, just atrocious colds and uncomfortable back injuries). Things haven’t been going as I had hoped–not poorly, but not as well as my internal narrative wanted.
The other day, I went into St Giles Cathedral to look around. A string quartet practiced for the evening performance. As the violin sang out, the cello setting a steady pace, my heart soared, leaped, fell, felt, repeated. The starting and stopping as the musicians ran through their piece struck me. It was, in its imperfection, exactly as I felt. There was joy, frustration, repetition.
Words failed me. Visual arts failed me. Yet music fit where no other expression would. It was fleeting, yet permanent, the memory to be one of the strongest I have.
My strongest memories are tied around music. The two best concerts I’ve been to have had moments of transcendence–from the Who, when Roger Daltrey sang portions of Tommy, a medley that meant so much to me, given that I had listened to that album ad nauseum the summer before. The second was the Swell Season, when Glen Hansard got the audience to join in on the chorus of ‘Back Broke.’ The effect was haunting, uniting, beautiful. For moments at both of these gigs, the music transcended. That’s all that mattered.