Vanity and Obscurity
A new episode, some risqué art, my backyard neighbor, thoughts on vanity and Why I Do This To Myself, and more
The Virtual Memories Show News
A 2x/week email about a podcast about books & life
Podcastery
This week I posted Episode 603 of The Virtual Memories Show, feat. the return of Nicholas Delbanco as we celebrate his 32nd book (!) and his first true foray into memoir (or ME-moir), STILL LIFE AT EIGHTY (Mandel Vilar Press)! We talk about how this project was sparked by the rediscovery of the 40-page history of art he wrote at eleven years old (!), how he built the book as a mosaic, why he centers it around the homes, totem-objects, and writers in his life, and why he wanted his first memoir to be an act of gratitude rather than a list of gripes. We get into decision to part with some of his library and the books he regrets selling, his long-term interest in literary and artistic reputation and how its study helped him navigate the transition from “promising” to “distinguished” writer, and what he learned when recently revising a series of his early novels. We also discuss his embrace of compression and restraint in his later writing, why he’ll write a fictional character’s poetry but doesn’t write poetry on his own, what his family’s history and business taught him about the balance between the dutifulness and risks of art, his surprise at how quickly John Updike’s reputation waned, and a lot more. Give it a listen (and go check out our 2017 and 2022 conversations)! And go read STILL LIFE AT EIGHTY!
Last week I posted Episode 602, feat. the return of cartoonist and animator Dash Shaw as we groove on his phenomenal new graphic novel, BLURRY (New York Review Comics)! We talk about the decompressed mode he brought to this book, the turning points we encounter in the most mundane situations, his focus on the microscopic moments of doubt we have between two very similar things, and how he settled on the idea of structuring the book around nested stories (& figured out to thread them together by the end). We get into the 2×2 panel regularity of every page of Blurry and how that allowed him to build the book, how the experience of making a Clue miniseries changed his comics-making process, and how Blurry felt like he’d been playing a video game for a long time and then discovered a bonus level. We also discuss his film-making process and how that contrasts with the isolation of making comics, the ways his work tends toward collage, why naturalistic dialogue is another form of stylization, and a lot more. Give it a listen (and go check out our 2021 conversation)! And go read BLURRY!
Recent episodes: Jess Ruliffson • Joe Coleman • Mirana Comstock • Anita Kunz • Shalom Auslander • Maurice Vellekoop • Laura Beers
Vanity and Obscurity
It’s a two-week sprint until my conference (Sept. 19-20), so my brain’s pretty scattered. I’m (still) waiting for one speaker to confirm, but if he doesn’t, I can rearrange the schedule to accommodate things (move one of day 2’s speakers to day 1, add 5 min. to the remaining day 2 slots, move up the day 2 coffee break). The rest of the infrastructure is in place — catering, A/V, networking dinner — and I know that I can pull it off, give my attendees a great conference, and look good doing it, but I always get frazzled in the lead-up.
But at least I didn’t spend Labor Day Weekend worrying about it all. Instead, I finished books by a couple of upcoming guests and then dived headlong into the third issue of Haiku for Business Travelers, with the goal of wrapping that up and getting it printed by October. There are a couple of big things that I need to do, including draw a stupid 3-page comic I dreamed up this summer during a drive from Amherst to NJ, but there’s a joy in seeing the layout spreadsheet fill up and realizing that It’s Almost There, y’know?
Which raises the larger question of why I do this to myself, coming up with Yet Another Project to devour my time, when I’ve already got the podcast, this semiweekly newsletter, my daily postcard habit, and occasional art-making (along with that Instax + prose book I want to make at the end of this year), with work always looming.
The obvious answer is vanity, the desire to have an audience.
When a friend tried to counsel me to let up on the gas and take some time off from the above, I replied, “But then I’d cease to exist.”
I’ve prattled on about that before, this need of mine to try be heard — not least last week, when I wrote about Influencing (and my thanks to those of you who wrote me after) — and the notion that all of this comprises some sort of Gil-Art Project.
Perhaps it’s a function of being on the last 200 pages of Knausgaard’s My Struggle — after 3,400 pages in which he’s rendered the fullness and emptiness of his life — that has me thinking of all of this, and the uses of vanity or the fear of obscurity. But I’ve got a conference to plan and a work-dinner tonight where I’m expected to put on The Gil Show, so I’ll try to indulge myself later.
Here’s a pic of my weekend backyard guest:
Instaxery
No podcasts this weekend, so no new Instax pix; sorry!
Artistry
Another week with not much art-making; sorry! On Sunday, I played around with each of the pots in an “opaque watercolors” set I bought a while ago (above). Yesterday, I got back from a run and took a selfie where I looked absolutely ripped, so I did a quick brush-pen postcard sketch of that this morning. (As usual, the brush-pen means I can’t do really fine detail.) If you ask nice, maybe I’ll post the original pic in Sunday’s email. You should go to the Flickr album of most of the art I’ve made & find something you like.
Postcardery
Let me know if you want to be on my postcard-a-day list. (Financial supporters of the podcast get a hand-drawn/painted postcard as a thank-you. I mean, not that one above; that’s gonna traumatize some people, incl. my postal carrier.)
Until Next Time
Thanks for reading this far! I’ll be back on Sunday with links, books, & workouts, and on Wednesday with a new episode, and maybe some art & an Instax.
And as you cross the wilderness / Spinning in your emptiness / You feel you have to pray / Looking for a sign that the universal mind / Has written you into the passion play,