I'm New Here.

What a beautiful song.
R.I.P Gil Scott-Heron.

I was just reflecting on Gil Scott-Heron's album 'I'm New Here' and how it reminds me of Johnny Cash making his last recorded albums 'American Recordings'. I love it that these great artists gave their best even when they could have easily retired. These records are something the industry can never categorize, it's art in relation to life, the words shaped can never be mimicked. Art needs to come out from life, you have to have gone through what Gil Scott-Heron went through to make his art, and he went through a lot, having lived through the Jim Crow laws, laws that segregated black people from white people in America, as well as an ongoing struggle with drug addiction. I love that he was always frank and honest about the way he felt about his country and himself, he made it a point to bother about the bigger picture, that what happens in another country, happens to his country, that the world's problems were his problems. That what the future generations of rappers have to fear are making songs that aren't based on authentic experiences. His last album is something like vintage wine for me, ripe with all the flavors of a beautiful life. It's sad that he couldn't have made more music. All this makes me realize that old age is something to actually look forward too, unless you go senile, Gil Scott-Heron is evidence that great things can be done even then. 

An Assault On Affection.

It's out! My first comic, An Assault On Affection.

There are 2 shops that you can purchase my comic from:

The first is Doinky Doodles, at 33 Bali Lane (2nd Floor). Tues-Sat 1-8pm. Website: www.doinkydoodles.com. Doinky Doodles is an amazing shop, that my friend Pixin owns, there's a little section of comics and zines there that  I absolutely love (including her own). Do check it out!

The second is Absolute Comics, at 200 Victoria St #03-13 Parco Bugis Junction, it's a comic shop that I have been faithfully buying comics from, another great shop.

I really hope that more people will support these local shops, to me they are something special. The big stores are much more impersonal in comparison. I'll be putting my comics in at least three more stores and that will be that. Will update this post as I find more stores.


BTW, make sure you check if the stores are closed for special occasions, by checking online.

For any inqueries, please e-mail me at fatcrumb@gmail.com.






Updates

You can now get my comic at Cat Socrates too! # 03-39B Bras Basah Complex, 231 Bain Street. They open from 12- 8pm (mon-sat) / 1-7pm Sun and Public Holidays. Website: www.catsocrates.com.sg.

Special Powers.

Really wanted to post this one much earlier but the cleaning up process took longer then I expected (I usually clean up the eraser marks and white ink with photoshop). Also, I'm in the middle of my national service. Since my last reservist, I had a little idea for a strip about my experiences in camp, might work on that soon.

I'm really starting to enjoy making these Sorehead strips, went jogging today and came back with so many ideas. I'll probably do a lot more before I get back to painting. When that happens the strip will come out infrequently. 

Along with the strip above, I thought it would be nice to attach this image I made of a couple that I drew in my sketchbook. The sketch came in handy as a reference for the couple in my strip above. 

I've been thinking about this strip I made recently and my opinions and views as expressed in the strip are very different now. I realize that I can never look at a single person and 'figure them out'. People are a constant mystery for me and that includes myself. I'm a constant mystery to myself and can never predict the mood I'll be in, or the way I will react to sudden situations. That said, the validity of this strip still holds up in a certain way because most times I find that people do behave in ways that are predictable as as if their actions were scripted. I find it constantly disappointing when the obvious presents itself to me, and that is probably what this strip is about, a lament over the 'predictable'. How much of it is the fault of the given situations people are subjected to? How much out of it is just the person/s' willingness to be subjected? This un-ending mystery presents itself daily. 

27/07/2011

A year ago.. or at least I think it was a year ago. I stumbled on this video interview with Leonard Cohen. He made me think about something that I reflected on before and totally agree with, that of making art in-spite of suffering and not by being fueled by it.

I think this is an important point for all artists who believe that they need to live a self-destructive life before they can make good art. It's a cliche. Funny how just today, I stumbled on Jeff Tweedy (below) saying the same thing!

Start listening to leonard's clip from 3:17.

The children are the first to know.

The children are the first to know

What they haven’t learnt in a lifetime.

What it is that is.

They already know as most important.

What we haven’t learnt in a lifetime,

They summed it up with their smiles.

What we have forgotten,

The children know most often.

And the children will show it to you

Even if you’ve forgotten.

Just this once

Let the children play,

Let the children scream

As loud as they desire!

Because their screams are of delight!

If you do not want to look bad

Just leave them be,

And smile.

The boy takes his fathers face

And tries his best to make a shape.

That moment,

Hanging on the hope

For his loving gaze.

But the human face,

It is nothing like Play-Doh.

And the child trips!

On what he doesn’t know.

So children,

This is why!

You must learn with all your might!

But as you do so,

Please don’t ever forget!

What is most important!

This was done recently, it's not meant to be read like a regular poem, you have to imagine that each stanza is in a single page of a kids story book which I intend to turn this into.

- Fatcrumb

On My Way.

If you have a spirit of endurance,

If you don’t mind that creativity

Is stenciled on the walls,

And that everything’s made of plastic,

I find that the airport can be a great spot,

For the on and on and on and on.

If you don’t mind

That the disposables are left

In the wake of the drifters,

Fuel for the everlasting movement,

That never returns.

I find that the airport can be a great spot,

A real sweet spot,

For the on and on and on and on.

If you don’t mind

That the caretakers of flight

Are in keeping

With their best static lie,

It is in keeping with the

On and on and on and on.

That they mimic the stance of

Their imaginary symbols,

The on and on and on and on,

Engulfs my heart tonight.

That these self-made symbols

Whisper

“Everything is worth it”,

With the same tenacity and pomposity

Of a pimple faced girl

Who says

“All is good for me,

I who have no company.”

Then get ready,

For the on and on and on and on.

That the dot on the map finally matters,

I am not concerned.

It is the heart of a nation

That perplexes me most.

Where is it?

The question goes on and on and on.

That those who have returned

From touching the great monoliths,

Dancing to the music of fading cultures,

That once knew life,

Barely feel it in their bones.

As they return with the sound

Of fading gypsies,

Going on and on and on and on.

These people,

Colorless like ghosts,

Convincing themselves,

Life is worth living,

While never feeling alive.

They go on and on and on and on.

And me?

I am on my way.

Buzz Street.

Standing naked,

Standing pink-eyed in the sun,

Standing with

The clothed,

Bearing down.

On a busy street,

Let me catch my bearings.

Let me arrive

On time,

Definitely

On time,

I must,

Be on time,

Even if,

A little undone.

This Holy fuzz,

Is telling me funny things about the weather.

A million hits

For a million faceless kisses.

Tricks,

Playing in the sun.

Let me soak in all of this,

Before my memory comes undone.

The Holy Fuzz,

Is telling me strange things about the weather.

Talk about the weather,

Talk about disease,

Talk about a feather.

In the sizzling heat, they run out of things to say.

In a blizzard, they run out of things to say.

 “Quickly,

Change the channel.”

Someone says.

“Or amuse yourself,

With a balloon.”

On a placard the phrases read:

Triple the employment.

Triple the Experience.

The Holy Fuzz is getting too abstract,

Its breath is foul,

And now,

It’s tripping over

The triplets of employment,

On a busy street,

That I am crossing,

A little undone,

And hopefully,

Very much in the nude.

Done on a busy day, 18^th of March. Jeremy gave a talk at CC (Scape). It was great! The kids I was teaching were difficult, but one or two were affected by the experience, and one or two is enough. They could be great artists in the future, who knows? I’ll keep hoping. Strangely, felt teary eyed all day. Remember feeling very disconnected with the reality of Orchard Road. I always feel a little disconnected there, a little strung-up. But Art helps a lot.