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I stumbled across the graphic adaptation of the 9/11 report on Slate last night. It’s a graphic novel by Sid Jacobson and Ernie Colón and should put to rest the notion that the “comic book” can’t be a serious medium. I read most of the first section without blinking, I think, and couldn’t go any further.

I have an odd relationship with the event of 9/11. It still upsets me to the point where I’m not ready for art about it. I haven’t seen United 93 or World Trade Center, and I couldn’t make it through Rick Bowes’ award-winning There’s a Hole in the City on SCI FICTION.

Why? I get too distracted. I can’t separate the art from my own memories, it seems. I don’t like remembering those days, even though at that time I’d never been to New York City and knew only few people who lived there. But like lots of people, the tragedy of that day would unexpectedly wash over me for months to come. What I find strange is that I visited NYC in August of 2003, went to Ground Zero, and felt nothing. No tears, no tightness in the chest. Nothing. No catharsis whatsoever.

I’m not sure what I ought to feel at this point, five years later. I can talk about that day, argue about it, read accounts of what happened, all without a problem. But art? Art crosses some line that separates my reason from my emotions and taps into a deep reservoir of sorrow.

Speaking of memories, we’re using the couple weeks before school starts to organize our basement. We finished the room about a year ago but never got around to actually moving stuff from boxes onto the cabinet shelves, so the last couple nights we’ve been unearthing boxes we never unpacked and examining the contents.

Lots of pictures and photo albums. We used a lot of film before the digital era but the prints have been buried for the last several years. It’s a massive blast from the past (as you can expect) and a lot of fun. Pictures of my first trip to Europe as a 20-year-old. Our ’96 trip to Greece, our ’98 trip to Tanzania, and our six-week excursion through Spain, France, and Italy in ’02. Our wedding in 2000. And lots and lots of backpacking pictures from our time in Washington State.

If I find the time I’d like to scan some of these in and post them just for kicks. My mom (who is a photo album nut and has recently brought her madness to the Internet) also burned a CD of old childhood and high school photos for me while we were visiting them in Aiken. They’re a hoot. Is 32 the age nostagliga starts to kick in?

Musically, I’m totally stuck in the 90′s. I can’t stop listening to Oasis and Liz Phair, and the weird thing is I never gave either of them a serious listen until a month ago.

PT recently posted about bands you used to love that now make your skin crawl, but there’s also music that’s stood the test of time remarkably well. I’ve been listening to a lot of 90′s punk music lately and I was planning on blogging the groups and the albums that most influenced me in those formative high school and college years, but that’ll have to wait.

Right now I’ve got Queensrÿche’s “Operation: Mindcrime” on, and it still rocks 18 years since its release.

12 days until school starts, 7 more days on the job. Thank God. The only problem with giving 8 weeks notice is that it feels like an eternity until you’re actually gone.

I’ll post my classes’ syllabi and reading lists once I get them. Right now only one class has the book list available.

Current Mood: Eyeing the Weekend |
Currently Listening To – Queensrÿche – “Operation: Mindcrime”