So I’m a character in this book, and I’m in this movie, and I’m in this band, and I keep this here blog (amongst other art projects), and they’re all kind of intertwined, and here’s an excerpt from an interview I (along with the other folk who made the book and the movie and the band) did that’s going to be published in a magazine called One Hour Empire. Enjoy!

So my show of the Lurking drawings opens in less than a week, and I have to arrange them into a pile of favorites so that the gallerist has an easier time of selecting which ones he’s going to show. Sifting through them all is a strange business, and I thought I might share some observations with you, my captive audience.

1. The first drawing was made January 28, 2010. So these drawings represent a year and half of more-or-less solid work. In a year and a half, I have averaged out to a drawing every 3 days.
2. I number, sign and date each one of them. It’s deeply amusing to me that my handwriting on the back of the very first drawing is small and tidy; as the drawings have progressed, my handwriting has gotten larger and more fluid.
3. I spend so long looking at them as 640 x 480 web-resolution JPEGs, I’ve forgotten what they look like “live.” And once I scan them, they go into their storage drawer, so I basically never look at them. Obviously, they look really different “in person”; they have a presence, what Benjamin calls an aura. It’s nice to be reminded of that.
4. The stack of now 206 drawings no longer fits in the shelf that I have allotted for them.
5. My favorites almost never match Tumblr favorites: some drawings that I think are excellent (and this is not self-congratulation — I have enough of a critical eye about my art practice to know what works and what doesn’t) have gotten no Tumblr notice (likes, reblogs, whatnot); some drawings that I think are misses have gotten a great deal of attention. 
6. I make a fairly big deal of not using this blog as a means of personal confession; of course, all of these drawings are confessional in one way or other. Some of them are deeply personal. Some of them represent defining moments in and/or people central to my life. Some of them have become retrospectively painful to look at; and some of them have become perfect little mementos of beautiful experiences.