Annus mirabilis, or “How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb”, part I

I’m planning a graphic novel – here’s the outline of the script. It’s set in 2008 and covers a year of the main character’s life. By the way, any reference to real people and facts is purely and completely deliberate.

Being an online draft, the good part is that I can tweak it and spice it up. Oh, ah… I guess it should be pretty obvious, but to listen to the soundtrack, you just need to click on the name of the track.

JANUARY

A glimpse in D’s life: her hopes, her history, her friends. She has a job, has another job, has a third job, has a dog, has a partner, has a home in a huge rented and untidy flat, has a degree and an ongoing specialization, has a car, has a bank loan, has friends.

[Note for me: OK, I know this is hard, but try and make it look different from Sliding Doors]

Björk – Hyperballad ♫ ♪

FEBRUARY

D signs an agreement as permanent employee at the company for which she used to work as freelancer earlier. She has to drive from 2 to 4 hours every day, obtains a wonderful room in the attic, writes an average of 52 emails a day and is always the last to leave at night. Her office is near the sea, at the very end of Eur in Rome, and at times, at 8 o’clock in the evening, the breeze is salty and her car covered in sand.

[Note for me: insert a retrospective hint about how she may be unconsciously striving to stay away from home.]

Jamiroquai – Black Capricorn Day ♪ ♫

MARCH

D’s alcoholic, personality disordered, ballet dancing grandmother K kicks the bucket after they hadn’t spoken to each other for 7 years.
Retrospective, back in 2001: K’s last words to D – “you lousy slut”. K’s last words to D’s younger brother C, who was 11 at the time: “I thought you were dead, just like your mother”, K’s only daughter.
Back in 2008: K’s partner, knowing that C and D are her only heirs, thinks it best not to tell a word about her death until they find it out a month or so later. It turns out K’s house in Italy had been sold the day before she died.

[Note for me: series of cartoons illustrating the events around K’s death, for example: 1) K’s partner is given an Oscar for the category “Best Luck in 2008”; 2) K’s partner is secretly trying out the solidity of the biggest frying pan in the house; 3) we catch a furtive ray of light secretly glimmering in the eye of the appointed notary.]

D spends entire months at banks and municipalities and lawyers and has to cope with constant nausea.

Radiohead – Knives Out ♪ ♫

APRIL

D’s step-grand-mother (I’ll leave you a minute to resolve this equation…) dies. D’s brother and D herself are, again, among her heirs, and their aunt N thinks it best not to tell them: who knows? They might think of relieving her of her toilet or of some other useful part of her 50 sqm flat in the dingy fringes of Sofia. D’s so sick of all these things that lets N get away with just a single burst of explosive anger on D’s part. N ends her call saying she loves D and C tenderly and cares deeply about them. They never hear from her again.

Thom Yorke – Analyse ♫ ♪

MAY

[It’s time for some Psychological Peek in D’s character].

No missed funerals in May. D’s last exam at University: Latin Literature. It’s worth noting that the worst or hardest moments of D’s life all coincide with the brightest highlights of her academic performance – which is a wonderful insight into her way of functioning: when the shit hits the air conditioning, she switches off and works as an automaton. She gets the highest mark of the whole session, without having ever studied Latin her whole life, from the most resentful gang of constipated scholars the learning world has ever known, all determined to ruin her ego from the very onset.

[Note for me: intertextual hints to the Judges in the final part of The Wall].

Fiona Apple – Extraordinary Machine ♫ ♪

JUNE

[Note for me: tread carefully.]

D’s beloved half has very important things to do about his future. So why should D bother about her own problems, when his are so significant? D goes on working like before, while having a hard time to make her own, private company called family work as best as she can, which means she’s helping out financially and practically, with all the time and skills and patience and money she has. She starts having very bad dreams.

The Dø – On My Shoulders ♪ ♫

JULY

D has to settle some financial matters in Sofia, so she leaves – all alone, for the first time. Everything goes completely wrong, from the Lost-like turbulence on the plane, to some terrible toothaches which eventually lead to her wisdom tooth being pulled out. Fully disfigured, she goes back home to a strange silent universe. Even though on her way back she’s taken a few free days from work, she finds herself constantly alone at home, or relatively alone at the seaside or at weddings or at cocktail parties. There’s a reason, as she’ll soon discover. And the reason has a fascinating Mediterranean look, olive skin, dark long hair and captivating manners, with an atrocious penchant for baby-talk. D reaches a higher level of self awareness through her newly discovered killer instincts [Note for me: Uma Thurman in Kill Bill], as well as some innate detective abilities [Note for me: Lara Croft or other videogame female character].

[Final note for me: use the Shakespearean insulter for new ideas; for example "Would thou were clean enough to spit on", etc.]

Aimee Mann – Amateur ♪ ♫

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Things to do on Sunday

1. Go to bed at the first rays of the new rising sun
2. Get up at noon and have a rich, snug breakfast, with soft talks and yawning
3. Have something light for lunch at 2 pm
4. Plan outdoor activities for the afternoon (a couple of tennis sets)
5. See them shattered by sudden rain
6. Chase your beloved one around the house and force him/her into posing for you

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New ways to get naked

I’ll pretend I’m not posting this to test the flickr functionality with my new theme…

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“Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing”

My website and blog are up and running again, after three nights of hysterical stumbles and problem creating and solving (slings and arrows). The old, whitish version lasted but a year (‘Tis brief, my lord.), but I have to admit I like my new, Hamlet-like inky cloak much better.

A few practical pieces of advice (or reminders for myself: My tables, – meet it is I set it down!): never again register PHP – MySql hosting solutions with Aruba. And, if you absolutely have to, don’t ever, ever use Windows hosting. I know, it used to be the least expensive hosting server at the beginning, making you a king of infinite space, whereas the others used to give you just 5 MB at 40 euros. But this goodly frame, the earth is turning, after all, and things are evolving, and you don’t really need to stick to old habits, you know?

For three nights, I’ve felt like a mouse trapped in a labyrinth, with the Aruba CEO and complete executive board watching me from the other side of a protective glass and celebrating with a toast at themselves each time I found myself tearing my clothes off in a fit of rage after I had entered the dead lane labeled 500: Internal Server Error.
“What do you call the play? – The Mouse-Trap.”

But you know what? I’ve made it! So tonight I’ll finally be able To sleep: perchance to dream.

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Labour pains

Creation: perception > process > production > observation of own production > satisfaction.

Yeah, fine! But what happens when you get better and better at the perceiving and processing stages, but your production capability is lagging behind? What if you’re tired of your instruments or quality levels and find yourself at a stop? I’ve been stumbling for months on the same, fucking rock.

Started a project. Stopped because was unable to match what’s in my mind with what I’m able to do. Stopped starting projects. Tried to go back to what I did before. Was overcome by nausea. Tried to change subjects but could only find stale, commonplace stuff (does the world really need any more pictures of flowers, dogs, cats, naked branches…?). Tried studying to improve my technique. Things grew worse. Searched for inspiration all around me. Tried to relax and go with the flow. Grew restless. Tried to work more so at least I’d feel less guilty in spending more for gear. Got stressed by overworking.

And in the meantime, all this spring slumber keeps bringing me dreams of being pregnant and in labour pains.

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