The good thing about being in charge of one’s own publications is I have only myself to report to if I don’t meet a deadline… then again, otolaryngologist that is also the bad thing.
Where Everything Lost is Found was intended to be finished and on paper around this time of the year.
From angsty anthology, it’s mutated into illustrated poetry book. From a considerably thick book, it is now short and, hopefully, sweet (perhaps more bittersweet that sweet…) The process has been one of elimination… elimination… and more elimination.
They say one is one’s own toughest critic.
In all honesty, I have chosen not to have any critics for this project (as I did with SLF). I don’t mean to say this is productive or smart, but for both books, I knew exactly what I wanted to produce and rather have not had any input, positive or negative. That and, being irremediably stubborn and hoarder of secrets.
WELIF, I had mentioned once before, is a flowering graveyard of adolescent texts. I’ve decided to include only poems (not prose, as originally intended).
The task at hand was to draw some ballpoint doodles to compliment some of the poems. Now, I want to fill it with ballpoint art in between each poem, and to illustrate some of them (since some drawings only allude to specific images in the poetry).
These are some finished and in progress drawings:
So it turns out, WELIF has mutated into an art project. (You can choose whether you want to call this “art” or not, I personally don’t know what else to call it. )
Until a voice in my head says “enough!” WELIF is a work in progress. But I intend to have it done by this Fall. At most. Maybe.