I wanted Hanna to access these objects in a way that seemed most possible at the time, through a psychedelic trance. But in 2019 we all inhabit the space of our memories and aesthetics. It’s no longer a destination. The painting has crawled out of itself and filled every crevice of our reality. |
Years ago I saw myself in a non-OP comic you did about Portlanders being dicks. It was a miss on the inner life; it's more complex, beautiful, and horrible in Portland than a few panels of righteous resentment will summarize… and I saw what was seen, like the grim view in the mirror as a hangover sill holds on, incomplete yet shamefully real.
In this particular sequence, though, I feel like I'm watching Korean films or listening to eSports commentary. So many people I know are so into it, I know it means something, it's not totally outside my experience, but it just… doesn't… click. "We all inhabit the space of our memories and aesthetics"? What? I'm too lost to even be embarrassed by it.
I don't live in Portland anymore and most of my work is far from human contact. Sometimes I have to go to major cities to talk about my work, explain things about blood and sand. That's why I'm reading this today, and I often find myself thinking about Octopus Pie when I'm here. The expression of urban structure is excellent; I saw the Met stairs drawn in cartoon lines as I climbed them. So, I know you know something I don't. But…
Why are you all so sad about it?