Alrighty...I am knackered...don't even know where I am right now. Sleep is goooood. I will need it before my jaunt in Manila too I think. The list of things they have me doing there is scaring me.
This week I'll be running my chronicle of what I got up to recently, which was over on the Powells blog in case any of you guys missed it, I was diligently blogging about my escapades for a week and a bit over there. ( which is pretty amazing sometimes considering the state I was in. )
Poppycock, Breasts and an Andalusian Dog.
Where to start. To cut a long story short and bring people up to speed, A wee few years ago, I had the luck and good fortune to co-create, with Steve Niles, a nasty little vampire book called 30 Days of Night that some generous Studio people over at Ghosthouse/Sony decided to turn into a feature film.Being Australian, I just flew in to LA late last week ready to catch it at the Premiere on a horrendously long bloody flight, and also for my gallery show called “Poppycock” over at the amazing Secret Headquarters psuedo art gallery and perveyor of ye fine comic books…which I’m just recovering from over the weekend.
Now, I also have the good fortune to be staying with the director of the film, after somehow convincing David Slade I am indeed some kind of sane individual that won’t murder him or his family in the night. I don’t know, call him an optimist if you will. I do come from convict stock after all. Being mac devotees, and having at least 8 people staying at the same house for the Premiere, the place is going to resemble some sort of powerbook convention. At it’s height there’ll be 6 on the one table. That’s a lot of expensive computer.
As soon as we get to Secret Headquarters I am confronted by a brilliant gift they’ve gotten for me, as a thankyou for doing the show, which is odd, since I should be thanking them…but nonetheless, they know me too well and I am given a bottle of special tequila that’s actually the good stuff the agave growers actually hold back for the primo stuff you can’t usually get, errr, or something. Either way, it tastes different to any other tequila I’ve yet had, and it’s about the only thing I drink apart from beer.
“Poppycock” is sort of my first real show of note, taking in work I’ve done recently for a couple of books mostly, one being my oddly humoured dark horror book “Wormwood Gentleman Corpse” and the other being my latest attempt to add a little to the 30 Days of Night mythos, “Red Snow” being about the Eastern Front with Nazis, Russians and Vampires up in the arctic circle during WW2. In the picture you can see what will eventually be the cover to the graphic novel version, with the original art and a final computer finalized print. The whole exhibition was pretty much done this way, with each piece being two images. Amazingly, pieces were selling before it opened. Pretty good considering I didn’t know if I’d sell anything at all.
As soon as the doors opened, a crowd surged in. Again, I’m bowelled over at how many people are coming through the doors. It pretty much doesn’t let up the entire night. All I end up doing for about 4 hours is sign books and have a quick chit chat with as many people as possible. I barely get to finish one beer the whole night, but we sell a lot of books. And yes, I sign my first breast. Well, female breast. ( I have actually signed and drawn on various man bits in my time, ) but this is my first official girly part. And I clear it with the signee for a picture and with the wife, who actually took the photo. Thanks Tamara, what can I say for letting me defile you so.
To round out the weekend, we get down to a spot of drinking. Possibly the first of many nights such as this on my trip, especially this week while blogging. I’m sure I’ll be giving the world the impression I’m a complete alcoholic.Which I’m not, but since I’m Australian, does it really matter?
David Slade has just arrived back home ( He was in NYC doing press for the movie which I had to pull out of as the art show had already been arranged ) and we’re immediately back on the macs comparing work, binging on art books and catching up ( he was actually a fan of the comic and the art long before he was to become director of the film version which was amazing ). We’re all in recovery mode, be it from the booze the nights before or the plane trips across country so after ordering Thai food in, I’m treated to seeing the short Salvador Dali Film “Un chien andalou” (aka An Andalusian Dog ). A cool piece of cinematic history.
Now, for some reason, I’m watching extras as I sit back and wait for the mad week ahead, of which I’ll attempt to vaguely blunder through and show snippets of.