Saturday, March 21, 2009

SAY THANKYA.

Tax time.

Not generally a festive time for the self employed artist. I never seem to get caught up.

So, "I owe, I owe, it's off to work I go."

That means it's commission time here at the fabulous Zed estate. I'm burying my dignity and cutting my prices for a week or two. Anything your heart desires. Just write me. Honest mister, I need the dough ya know say thankee.

I'll pick up the first few that I can reasonably expect to finish before the deadline.

I'll work my butt off, sweat bullets, hoe my row, give it my best shot, get in there swinging.

Give us a ring eh?

Seriously.



Very seriously.



Operators are standing by.



Oh, a few things of interest in the days to come.



M.Z.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

WELL, THAT WAS FUN SORTA.

I'm back, more or less.I spent three or four days,( I'm not all that sure, it went by in a surreal blur.) feeling like a candle when it burns down so far the wee bit of wick gutters and is snuffed out in a puddle of soft wax.I'm just really starting to get back at it, albeit rather slowly.


I usually know when it's time when the nudge to do something starts nagging at me, first in little pops and flashes then bigger cravings. I've faced facts long ago, I'm an addict. The creative process is part and parcel with everything I do.I'll be doing three maybe four private pieces in the next few weeks to both clear my head and re-adjust to holding pen and pencil. Believe it or not, but after the first day off I couldn't even fathom holding so much as a crayon.

Then I suppose I'll finish up the details of the book, paginate, wonk around a few odd panels to spiff 'em up and what not. But the real pressure is finally off, and for that, I'm insanely grateful.


Oh, just as a side bar sort of thing, I'm finishing the Dark Tower books. I had a strange brain fart back in the late nineties and for some unknown reason I just could not read fiction to save my life.I stuck to non fiction for nearly nine years before I found I could read for pleasure again.

Odd, but true. Needless to say, I'm having a ball.


Other than that, winter seems to be sticking really hard this year. I know it's not earth shaking news but damn, I'd love to see the poppies setting out pods........So, back to it and settled down. Not bad. Sorry there is no alarming news or angst-y things, but I'm rather pleased that life seems to be turning a page, however slowly.


Till later,

M.Z.

Monday, March 9, 2009

THE THUNDERING CALM







Principle photography is finished. It's all in the can, and the actors have gone home with an option contratuarly to return for voice-overs if needed.
Given the current climate, expect to view in nine to twelve months.

The working title will be: "the Fracture of the Universal Boy." Timed in at just under two hours with extras

Staring: A boy
A sphinx
A demon
An angel
Three harpies
The boy older?
Mud people
The boy older still?
The sons
God?
A painter
Sky things
A dark shape
The boy very old?
A wife, maybe two
A hawk
A little girl
A talking dog
Lots of trees
And a cast of flowers
No trailer on YouTube.
Two years and two days short of six months of blood sweat and tears, laughter, hope, fear, uncertainty, and shear joy.
I can't quite believe it's over, as something inside has gotten so used to it being omnipresent that I'm having a hard time trying to stop. Inside I'm a fun house of shattered mirrors and aching bones. But I'm not being quite fair to myself. A creeping sense of having "done it", is dawning slowly. Aw, fuck it, I'm still so shell shocked I can't make sense of it. It's to close, to personal yet.

Frankly, I really need a rest. So, rest I'll have. Until the holy monster awakens again and drives me back to work.
Ecce Homo: behold the man. What a sad disheveled fellow he is, standing before me in his ragged coat and walking stick, all travel dust and bandaged feet.
Say a prayer for him.
be kind.
M.Z.


PS: Prayers of mercy and peace to my friend Neil on this day. Twenty plus years of work and fellowship come streaming into my head today.
Karen and and my love to you and your family.
Michael






Thursday, March 5, 2009

JANUS.


The last two pages.

The End.


Art tears an abyss into your heart and fills it with flowers.

Opens a blizzard of sunlight and awe in your chest.

It leaves you weeping and shattered on the floor.


My bones in my hand, ( the left one, la sinsestra. I'll rip the throat out of the first person to say, "southpaw.") are swollen and as hot as raw iron from a forge.

My spine is studded with spikes of rusty gold, the rust my own blood.

I spin and laugh at the sky or shiver in a chill autumn wind, naked, wondering how this came to be.

Sometimes metaphor makes more sense than empty words and useless notions of reality.

In essence, you must feel it before it becomes anything.


It will take about a week, and the Fracture of the Universal Boy will be real.


The rest is just details now.

I looked at it and understood that no matter how terrible the journey, in the end I/you will be glad to be alive. If, you understand.

That's a big "if" indeed, because I'm still spinning from the implications of what I've made.


The next time I write, it will be over.


Be well, and be kind..........


M.Z.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

SOMEBODY STOP ME........!!







Two days ago I was two, yup, two pages from the end of "Fracture". Two sweet pages.
Then, Dear God, the damn book started talking back. "JUST FUCKING SHUT UP!" said I. Not a happy Michael t all. After two and a half damn years the book grows a set and hits me where it hurts. You see, "It" needed a grace note before the last two pages and in no uncertain terms told me what was necessary.
The chocolate on the pillow,
the lemon wedge on the espresso
The, "check your oil sir?"

Fuck me.
But you know, it was perfect. The book knows more about itself than I do. It happens believe me. It's just that to admit a book makes itself can be a trifle humiliating you know? So the end result being instead of finishing the major art in a day or two, I've got at least another week to go.
I'm so exhausted, worn out and so happy/sad about this ending I can't sleep or really think straight about, well, shit.
At least when I first sit down in the morning to work, I grin like a fool. You on the other hand might not, just sorta scratch your head and say to yourself, " I paid for this?"

Now, as per request, I will be posting very small excerpts from various pages in the weeks to come. That will be here rather than the "working" blog.
I'll also be putting down a few thoughts and insights I've gathered during the process.

Honest, I gotta go.........and pardon my french.....that happens to from time to time also.
M.Z.



Bet you just can't wait.