the story that can't be illustrated

cover from what would have been a minizine circa 2018

One of my small pleasures of the Oh Es Oh is that it is a reciprocal for all sorts of things I never did anything with.  

No matter how much dust, how many sloppily folded rejection slips, no matter what misgivings or whatever else- there is a potential home for everything I have ever done in this zine. It's home to parts of projects I am still working on, along side ones long abandoned. 

For issue 3 one of the things I tried to revisit to breathe some new and fresh life into was a short story I wrote late 2017 based off a journal entry from late 2016 which I had tried, and failed, to illustrate back in... 2018 (and 2019, if we're being honest). 

I determined back then that I just could not get the words and the pictures to work. Something didn't click. 

I was excited to include the short story in this issue because, well, I always liked it. On premise at the very least. And thematically, it fit quite well carrying the same sort of acceptance at the nature and inevitability of life... and death.. that the rest of the issue echoes in various ways. 

 But truth be told, I was still intimidated at the idea of trying to illustrate it. Last time I tried I managed a "cover page" and a single illustration, which I loved, and nothing else. 

So. I did what very good zine curators and makers do and I pitched the idea to STG that HE illustrate it - but not in a literal way, we could just sorta match the mood and then print the text on top of it.  I sent a picture of the text printed out so the mood shifts were visible and could be blocked out and kicked my feet back expecting to put this chapter behind me. 

Weeks pass, I'm assembling the zine, this is one of the final pieces and I get the message- he came up with some "avant garde shit", he says, can I send the blocking again so he can try again?

I do so and he replies, nope. Sorry. Universe says not to touch this shit with a ten foot pole. Do your thing, Met.

"Real Avant Garde Shit" By STG. I don't need to know the thought process because we have all been there, right?

Anyway, I dutifully went to work and did not document my process at all until it was done and

I hated it. Oh my god. The printed sterile text over all that organic background? And lord, what did you photocopy the paper in a fred meyer's bag because you didn't want to get ink all over your printer and that's why it's a weird dingy brown? yes, yes I did.

I proceeded to do what any Met would do, made more copies, tore them up, flung paint across the room with a dramatic splat against the baseboard heater and carpet, took a break to clean the carpet, pulled out a stapler.

And eventually ended up with the following.

I ran it through the photocopier again and added some typewritten text, just a quote on each page, and ended with this finished page. (And another finished page, which I will not spoil). 

I honestly love the finished pages but I want to point out a couple things:

1) for a person who absolutely would never ever ever consider themselves an abstract artist in anyway, I sure do make a lot of abstract art.

2) I still have not actually made this story available for reading, besides a whopping 2 lines of it.

I am thinking this will be a running gag now. If anyone wants to illustrate for the Oh Es Oh they can take a crack at the unillustratable story. Maybe I will publish the text in full in the final goodbye issue in 2068. Until then, here's another iteration of Iteration.