"You know how you call a guy whose wife died a widower? Or, if your parents die, you're an orphan. You know, there's no word for someone whose kids die. Because it's like the worst thing that can happen." - "Falcon & The Winter Soldier" 3/19/2021
The comic book I am creating will require no fewer than eight pages. I am taking a short play I wrote a few years back, and adapting it into the comic. Each short scene from the play will take one page.
What this means is I need to edit a scene, which may take five to ten minutes in performance, and bring it down to fifteen panels. Subtlety gets thrown out the window.
Which is fine. But the strip I meant to have completed by last Saturday night is dicey, a lot happens, and it delves into some issues for the characters … I found it very difficult to distill in this way.
I’m still feeling overwhelmed, or maybe just whelmed, you know?
Wednesday afternoon my wife and I received our first dose of vaccine. I did not cry, though I might have, I was texting a colleague who was anxious about doing so themselves. I was helping to ease their anxiety.
If I wasn’t striving to ease someone’s anxiety every day of this pandemic, I might have cried all through that, instead, too.
Are we on our way out? Is this the end of the beginning, or the beginning of the end? It is hard to lament a lost year when I have been so creatively active: productions in Cleveland, California, Chennai, writing a full-length play, a one-act play, a ten-minute play adapted into a screenplay for production.
But that’s just me. I lament what my daughter has lost, her senior year spent at home. Such a social and active young woman, confined to the strict conditions of the COVID-19 Pandemic. What she’s been through may define the rest of her life.
Which is fine. But the strip I meant to have completed by last Saturday night is dicey, a lot happens, and it delves into some issues for the characters … I found it very difficult to distill in this way.
I’m still feeling overwhelmed, or maybe just whelmed, you know?
Wednesday afternoon my wife and I received our first dose of vaccine. I did not cry, though I might have, I was texting a colleague who was anxious about doing so themselves. I was helping to ease their anxiety.
If I wasn’t striving to ease someone’s anxiety every day of this pandemic, I might have cried all through that, instead, too.
Are we on our way out? Is this the end of the beginning, or the beginning of the end? It is hard to lament a lost year when I have been so creatively active: productions in Cleveland, California, Chennai, writing a full-length play, a one-act play, a ten-minute play adapted into a screenplay for production.
But that’s just me. I lament what my daughter has lost, her senior year spent at home. Such a social and active young woman, confined to the strict conditions of the COVID-19 Pandemic. What she’s been through may define the rest of her life.
But so. I have drafted another page. Moving forward. Happy first day of spring.
We thought of you when that line came up in the Sam and Bucky show. We love you all so much.
ReplyDeleteToni looks like Rorschach in that mask. Cool!
Someone else said she looks like a hornet! Hope you are having a lovely weekend.
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