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Posts tagged "lynda barry"
Who says Twitter isn’t good for anything?
a loyal follower tweeted that they would like to see some pages from the latest Lynda Barry book so here they are.
Thank me, people.
Terrific interview with my favorite writer, Lynda Barry:
On folk-dancing:
I think these old folk dances have something very big in them. The kind of movement they contain is transformative and restorative. You know, when country line dancing was starting to be a big thing, I’d hear people put it down. Cool people hated country line dancing. But I was so excited by it. It meant that anyone in the room could get up there and move around to the Boot Scootin’ Boogie. They could be all different shapes and sizes. Even that crazy chicken dance makes me happy. The Electric Slide makes me happy. Cool people are wrong about so many things.
On the computer vs. your hands:
Well, I love and adore my computer. Very much. I also love and adore reality shows, bratwurst, celebrity gossip and drinking straight whisky. I love YouTube fads like “Keyboard Cat”. But I only love these things because I have something else. It would not be hard for me to give up my computer if had to chose between it and my hands.
There is something about making a thing with ones hands in the physical world, which is a world without a delete key or a “step backward” option, that allows for an image to be awkward or seemingly wrong. It allows the things we are unsure about to exist anyway because we have no choice. We can’t push a button to make them disappear. And for me it’s been the awkward, wrong, seemingly small things that always turn out to be the entry point into the image. On a computer those things don’t have long to live. And they disappear completely. Where do they go?
Also, writing by hand is an exercise in spatial relationships as you write. You fit the letters together, an ‘O’ next to another “O” will be written differently than and ‘O’ next to an ‘I’ and all of it will fit on the line you’re working on. We just know how to do this at a certain point, and I believe that these small physical things that we’re doing at the same time we’re making an image have some bearing on the image itself.
At one point she also calls a piece of paper a “tiny dance floor” for a pen.
Back in high school, maybe 4 or 5 people wanted to be in a band, but nobody knew how to play an instrument. So in art class, we’d sit there and make album covers, and the credits, and i’d have the lyrics, and we’d have everything but music. We even made t-shirts for our band. Walked around, and people’d say, “You guys have a band?” “Yeah, yeah, we’ve got a band!” And no one could play anything. So it started out as kind of a fantasy.
This reminds me of Lynda Barry, when she says, when you were a kid, you’d never write a book unless you had the book to write it in:
“It’s always much easier for me to make a book if I have the size and page count first. Maybe it’s like doing a four panel comic strip. I know how long it’s going to be and that creates the structure.”
Pollard also likes to start out with song titles and fake band names, and then write songs for those specific titles and names…
This story pretty much perfectly describes our experience with our adopted and previously abused dog Milo. He needs more love than discipline…
Wonderfully long profile in the Chicago Tribune. Lots of goodies: how little she was making drawing Ernie Pook and why she decided to quit, how WHAT IT IS has sold 30,000 copies, the novel she’s writing “about a man who decides he’s not going to live long enough to write a book so he creates the spines of books he might have written”, gushing quotes from Chris Ware, Ivan Brunetti, Alison Bechdel…well worth reading!
What It Is is based on something I learned from my teacher, Marilyn Frasca, at the Evergreen State College in Olympia, Wash. I studied with her for two years in the late 1970s. Her idea seemed to be that everything we call art, whether it’s music or dance or writing or painting, anything we call art is a container for something she called an image. And she believed that once you understood what an image is, then the form you give it is up to you.
The question “What is an Image?” has guided all of my work for over 30 years. Because of what I learned from Marilyn, there isn’t much of a difference in the experience of painting a picture, writing a novel, making a comic strip, reading a poem or listening to a song. The containers are different, but the lively thing in the center is what I’m interested in.
It’s the living thing we activate when we read a book. Like Scrooge, for example. I know Scrooge came from a book, came from the hand of Dickens, but where is Scrooge really? Where is he right now? He’s not inside a book. If I say Scrooge and you know just who I’m talking about, and so do the first 1,000 people we stop on the street to ask if they know who Scrooge is, where is Scrooge located?
Scrooge is an image. Batman is an image. The alphabet is an image. I’d say Abraham Lincoln is an image, too. Although the bones of Lincoln are in a specific location, that’s not what we mean when we speak his name. We don’t mean his bones. Images are entities with no fixed location, they can occur to us at any place at any time. You and I can talk about them, though you and I have never met.
Lynda Barry on keeping a journal on legal paper:
…the way that I set up my desktop is, I’ll have a comic strip on my left side, and I’ll be working on it, and when the comic strip dries up—because it always does; everything you do, the wheels fall off a little bit—instead of sitting there and going, “Oh, what comes next,” I would just move my pen over and start scribbling stuff. And while I was drawing sometimes I would hear a sentence in my head, like, “Take a ouija board attitude toward your brush.” So there’s January 11th, and most of these were done while I was doing What It Is. There was something about the legal paper—I felt freed by it. I also thought, if other people see it on legal paper, then they’ll be like, “Legal paper is good enough! You don’t have to go to the art supply store and buy some special paper!” So I liked it and I’ve been keeping a journal this way for years and years and years. I have thousands of those pages.
Newspaper + Marker = Poetry. Pre-order it now for $10 on Amazon.com









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