Archive for September, 2010

As you’ve likely heard by now, Bernie Schwartz, better known as Tony Curtis, died today at the age of 85. Normally, a celebrity death, while tragic, wouldn’t mean much to me. But upon hearing the news of Curtis’ passing, I choked up a little, because I had the honor of getting to know the actor and artist in his later years.

I first encountered the Hollywood icon at his 80th birthday part, held in a few ballrooms at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas. There, I also met his lovely (and much, much younger) wife, Jill, who runs a wild horse refuge. It was the first time I’d seen his art — a collection of paintings and assemblage boxes — and I was blown away by the depth and complexity of his creations.

I had started writing for a new, Los Angeles-based magazine called Art+Living around that time, and by chance, the publisher assigned me a profile of Curtis, who I then got to know over a series of interviews, both by phone and in person at his house. After that, I’d see Curtis around occasionally at VIP events, even after he was wheelchair bound due to illness. I haven’t spoken to him in years, but I still have a place in my heart for the tough, yet warm and generous man who opened up his life and home to me, baring more than a few parts of his soul to a relative stranger.

My original profile was a 4,000-word epic. The publisher only wanted about 1,600. It seemed impossible (and unfair) to condense the life of such a man into so little words. I turned in something at about 2,500 words and let the editor do the rest. Unfortunately, what was published wasn’t only heavily edited, but some parts were completely rewritten, not because what I wrote wasn’t solid (to this day, this is one of the few things I’ve written of which I’m truly proud), but because there were outside forces wanting this to be more of a fluff piece.

So, in honor of Mr. Curtis on the day of his passing, I’m presenting the pre-edited, 2,300-word profile in its entirety for the first time ever. It’s after “the jump” for brevity’s sake. Hope you enjoy.

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So … there’s a meme going around the blogs/tumblrs/deviantarts/etcs of creative types this week, the “Influence Map.” It’s pretty straightforward, really: By remembering who influenced us, we might recapture the creative spark that those influencers first lit in us however many months/years/decades ago.

I’ve never really thought about this much before. Because my creative interests are spread out (too thin?) across many media (visual art, music, poetry, writing, tacos), it was almost a challenge to pinpoint just who/what I’d consider an “influence.”  If someone asks me very specifically, such as “what drummers influenced you,” it’s easy enough to rattle off a list of five or so. And based on  the influence maps I’ve seen out there so far, it seems like it was easier for single-discipline artists to generate their selections. Me? It took a while, but the results were, sadly, as predictable as my Last.fm lists:

For any who need clarification, here we go, basically from upper left:

1. Henry Rollins – Less for his actual music or poetry or whatever (though I like a lot of it), but more for his ascetic lifestyle, his tireless work ethic, and his insistence on just putting it all out there, regardless of whether or not it’s great. I mean, really, he’s a terrible singer, a bad poet and a mediocre writer, and yet he’s made a successful career of it all.

2. Jim Morrison – While it was the music of the Doors that drew me in, it was definitely the mystique built around its lead singer (whether justified or not) that caused me some, ahem, crisis of identity in my more tender years.

3. John Byrne – A lot of you comic geeks out there are going to hate me for this, but let’s face it: He made some of my favorite comics of the 1970s and 80s, and his one-man-showiness even back then was an inspiration.

4. Fred Rogers – Really wish I could have shaken this man’s hand and thanked him for all he had done.

5. Trent Reznor – It occurred to me the other day that as few CDs/records as I own or have ever purchased, my collection of Nine Inch Nails albums is nearly complete. As badly as I tried to emulate NIN’s sound in the mid-1990s (somewhat unconsciously), as with Rollins, it’s as much Reznor’s hard work and independence that gives something to which I can aspire.

6. Buddhism – One day, I’ll find a way to just be.

7. Stan Lee – ‘Nuff said.

8. James Dean – Well, I didn’t die at 27, so there’s that.

9. Kermit the Frog/Jim Henson – I swear I cry when I hear “The Rainbow Connection.”

10. Jack Kirby – I was a late convert to Kirby’s genius, but man, how it didn’t hit me before, I don’t know. That man’s name is synonymous with “dynamism.”

11. Kurt Cobain – And still here after 27.

12. Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. – I have a dream too, sir.

13. Jesus of Nazareth – He had 12 apostles. I have 1,600 followers on Twitter. Do the math.

14. Carl Bernstein & Bob Woodward – You could easily add Ben Bradlee to this as well. Without them, there’d be no journalism schools, and without those, well …

15. John Lennon – Man.

16. John Romita, Jr. – If there is one comic book artist who has never failed me in 30 years, it’s him. I’ve tried to emulate his style. It’s pointless.

17. Bono/U2 – I like to pretend that the last 20 years of U2′s music hasn’t happened, but still: charisma, earnestness, power, emotion and yes, altruism.

18. Aaron Sorkin – If I could have one screenwriting tutor …

19. The Crow – Not so much the comic or the character but I guess the original movie and the aesthetics. Hard to explain.

20. Prince – Another musician whose nuts I was all up on way too hard. Somehow I went from writing Goth-punk anthems to creating electro-funk jams and singing in a falsetto because of this little man.

21. Cameron Crowe – If there is any career trajectory I could follow, this fanboy-turned-journalist-turned-screenwriter-turned-director’s would be it.

22. Thomas Paine – The original T-Paine.

23. Tucker Rule/Thursday – One of my favorite bands ever features a self-taught drummer who must be part machine.

24. Robert Smith/The Cure – Yep, yet another band I stole so much from in the 1990s.

25. Guns N’ Roses – When someone says the term “rock band,” this is what I picture. Whenever I hear GNR — original-ish lineup era GNR — it just makes me want to make the greatest, loudest, ugliest rock music ever. Instead, you guys get As Yet Unbroken. Sorry.

My only other comment on this map is that it’s a bit sad there are no real female presences to be seen. I mean, I suppose that’s only natural — I am a man, mostly, and in general, we tend to identify with same-gender models — but outside of my mother, I really couldn’t conjure up specific female influences. Which is odd, because I don’t normally relate to most men.

Zombies + Conan? Brilliant.

Last time I did a stint at First Friday, it was specifically to hawk comics, at the urging of my crazy followers on Twitter. This time, it’s because my friend Jennifer Henry — fashion icon, fine artist, drinker of refined spirits — is curating the outdoor exhibition spaces at the epicenter of the monthly art walk/block party, and sucker that I am, I couldn’t help but say “yes” when she asked me to apply for one of the free tent spaces.

OK, so that’s not the ONLY reason. There’s also the matter of the upcoming Vegas Valley Comic Book Festival, which could use a little promoting, as well as that little Tales from the Boneyard anthology, so it might be the case that I’m coincidentally going to have fliers promoting both of those intertwined projects. And, yes, I’ll also probably have some comics and prints to sell as well. But what artwork will I be outdoor exhibiting? Well … as you guys may or may not know, most of the illustration work I do is all-digital. That means there’s no “original” artwork per se. Everything is a digital copy. But I DO actually have original artwork from my last few comic book projects, including my Tales from the Boneyard contribution, and the third chapter of my “Omega” serial from Omega Comics Presents. So, since I’m doing promotion for the Comic Book Festival and related items, I figured I’d show the original Boneyard art, which will also be a little sneak preview of the original art show we’ll be doing in November at Blackbird Studios.

At the aforementioned Blackbird Studios (1551 S. Commerce St.), owner/curator Gina Quaranto is hosting a zombie-themed art show, 28DAYS2A Zombie Apocalypse, which is coincidentally opening the same night as my appearance on the main drag this Friday. And, um, not coincidentally, I’ll have a piece in that show, called “The Insult That Made a Zombie Out of Zac.” A tiny little version of it is somewhere on this page. Yes, it’s a riff on the classic Charles Atlas comic book ads, but I spent a lot of time on this one, much more than expected, and you can see the full, 11×17-inch result at Blackbird Studios all month … or this Friday night. Or both! I think it turned out really nifty.

So … between 6 and 10 p.m. on October 1, I’ll be either under a tent somewhere near Casino Center Boulevard and Colorado Avenue, or at Blackbird Studios on Commerce Street. Come on down and take in all the art, food, music, booze and nonsense. It’s the eighth anniversary of First Friday, which officially makes it the longest-running cultural event in Las Vegas by a million times over.*

*Approximately

I know it’s been awfully quiet around here, aside from the occasional update to let you know how many miles I’m running or whatever. It may seem like I’ve been off the radar, maybe even being lazy or in hiding or running from the Feds or being held hostage by crazed Justin Bieber fans.

Nah. I’ve just been working.

One of the things I’ve been working on is an article in this week’s Vegas Seven about the relative success of local comic book shops, especially in the face of our struggling economy. I think it turned out pretty well, and there’s a lovely picture of Ralph Mathieu inside the new location of Alternate Reality Comics accompanying it, so you should go read it.

The other things I’ve been working on … well, it’s almost tiring to think about it. I mean, my eyelids are even sagging as I type this. Let’s go to list form:

• Playing shows again with As Yet Unbroken. We went from no gigs for nine months (while we shifted membership) to five gigs in two months. And we’re in the process of recording a proper EP, something that takes a lot longer than expected when all of us have day jobs/lives/vacations/side projects/health crises/potty breaks. But it’s getting done. I’d check out the AYU website for more info on upcoming events and whatnot.
• Making art. I mean, aside from comics (which we’ll talk about in a minute). For whatever reason, people becoming aware (or being reminded) of my semi-ability to draw has led me to be invited to group art shows. There was that LVSK8 show earlier in the summer for which I painted a terrible piece, and now I’m coming back again with an original creation for a zombie-themed show at Blackbird Studios (formerly Place Gallery) in October. I’m still not quite done with it, and the show is being hung next week, so I kinda need to get on that. But it’ll be sweet when it’s done. I hope. I’ll also be at First Friday with my own Outdoor Exhibition Space next week (Oct. 1), showing original art from Tales from the Boneyard, and promoting the Vegas Valley Comic Book Festival. Speaking of which …
• I’ve been on the planning committee for the aforementioned Comic Book Festival for the last two years, but this year, my involvement has been amped up by volunteering to publish, edit and contribute to Tales from the Boneyard, an anthology of local creators to benefit the Festival’s benefactor, the Las Vegas-Clark County Library District. I know I’ve mentioned it here before, but let me just say that it is turning out way more awesome than I ever could have expected. But don’t take my word for it, see for yourself.
• Oh, comics, right. Well, in addition to the Boneyard book, there’s a fourth issue of The Utopian and a third issue of Omega Comics Presents both coming out in the next few months, and rumor has it you can go ahead and pre-order them at the Pop! Goes the Icon website right now. I’ve got a few other things up my sleeve, but mainly, once these two issues and the Boneyard anthology are out the gate, it’s mini-hiatus time for the Peej, as I recover from what feels like a six-month marathon. You know, before I start another one.

That’s pretty much it. I’ve also been trying to find time to work on a major redesign of this website that would take the focus off this blog and put it on the work itself (a portfolio, I suppose), but uh yeah right. In the meantime, thanks for reading and bless your face.*

*Sorry, Toby.

Today is day one of week seven in my From Couch to 5k training program. I know – it’s crazy that it’s been that long since this thing started … and that long since my birthday.

If you follow me on Twitter, you may have caught my daily run updates (though they tend to be posted around 6 a.m., so maybe not), but after this morning’s run, I felt like I needed more space to share my thoughts. Good thing I’ve got this blog here.

This morning’s run was supposed to be a repeat of last week’s final run: 15 minutes of jogging and five minutes of walking. Each day builds on the previous one, and each week builds on that. So by the end of this week, I should be ready for 17 minutes solid of running. This morning I did 18.

But it’s not the fact I ran three minutes past schedule that’s important. It’s not impressive or surprising; I’ve been adjusting quite well and building endurance quickly (remember, at the start of this, I was winded after two minutes). It’s what happened in those last three minutes.

After my Droid buzzed to let me know 15 minutes had passed, I thought “I’ll just keep going to the end of this street,” which was just a block away. But my pace picked up, and my stride locked into a steady pulse. And suddenly, I was no longer aware of friction, or wind resistance, or muscle pain or even breathing. For those last three minutes, something weird happened … I was no longer consciously exerting effort to run. I just … was.

When I finally decided to slow to a walk, I could barely breathe, but after a minute even that returned to normal. No hacking or shallowness like I’ve had in the past. I’m sure there’s some sort of runners’ term for this. Breaking the wall? I don’t know. But I do know it was strange, scary, somewhat intoxicating, and … something I think I’d like to find again.

I have just less than three weeks left in this program, and have to double my time within that span. Stay tuned.