Sunday, April 23, 2006



I sat down last night to have a chat with Captain Petey and I ended up typing three pages of dense musings on all my favorite topics. Then I went to bed, and when I woke up, I typed another page. I am not sure what to do with them and I don't see the Submarine having a format change (from comic to philosophical essay). Its is an exciting and strange turn of events.

I usually don't spend a lot of time analyzing my creative processes, I usually just get to it, but I am finding that the typewriter has been an integral part of my process ever since I introduced text to the Submarine.

detail of the Poet

But now, I am curious. I can write quite fluently on a computer, but I rarely use what I type here in anything I consider art (except the Letter to Omar, which I composed on Blogger, then retyped for the published version). I have this perverse fear of writing Captain Petey's Manifesto, and then letting it go to waste. I almost don't want to finish it because I can't see how its going to fit in with everything else.

Bald Man

It all started when my mother showed me a certain engagement picture yesterday and she asked me why Captian Petey looked just like that guy. She found a huge nerve. I pointed out (perhaps too vehemently) that Captain Petey did not have a goatee, and his glasses were plastic, not wire (with the exception of the Baby, myopia seems to be a prerequisite). I love how mothers can go straight to the root of the matter. Hence my need to have a nice heart to heart with Captain Petey and get this all straightened out. But now, I am finding it to be a can of worms-- its much messier and scarier than I thought.

Back to the typewriter. I have all afternoon to hash this out.

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I blog about life and soup, but mostly soup.