Hi, Notable Notebookers!
Today’s comic is something different. I made four physical collages in my haiku notebook and put them together to form this comic:
rediscovering
the wonder of one’s weird dreams
a turbulent life
The Last Time
I don’t remember the last time Dad hit me. But I do remember the last time I was willing to put up with it.
I don’t remember what he was so angry about. Dad was sitting in his sky-blue recliner, yelling. Mom was standing behind him, wedged between the wall and the chair.
My siblings had all made themselves scarce. Nothing good could come from being in the room when Dad was angry.
I remember thinking he was through. I turned and started to walk toward my room. I had reached the edge of the front room when Dad’s voice boomed behind me, “Where do you think you’re going?”
I turned around and said, “I thought you were done yelling.”
What the hell was I thinking?
Dad stared me down, “You’re not too old to be spanked.” He was no longer yelling.
I was twelve.
“Maybe not, but I’m old enough to hit back.”
Hell flashed in Dad’s eyes, and he shot out of the chair. I knew I was dead. He would finally beat me into unconsciousness.
Somehow, Mom caught Dad and placed her hand on his shoulder. He sat back down in his chair. She gave me a look, and I left.
I locked myself in my room in case Dad broke free of Mom’s spell. I opened my window, ready to kick out the screen and run if he tried to enter my room.
What the hell was I thinking?
After an hour, I closed my window and listened to the radio until I fell asleep.
Nobody ever spoke about that night ever again, and Dad never hit another one of us kids.
Artist Note
You have four people to thank/blame for today’s experiment. I’ve been reading Noted by
and getting inspired by all of the creative ways people take notes and use notebooks. I’ve also been enjoying by Sue Clancy where she shares her beautiful and whimsical sketchbook. Earlier this week, Stella Kalaw shared one of her physical collages on Notes and published a fun post focused on color: has been sharing his notebook collages for years, and continues to write about creativity in the most intriguing ways in his newsletter. It’s been a few years since I’ve done a physical collage and I’ve never done one in my notebook before. Jillian and Sue motivated me to make my current haiku notebook a little more reflective of my personality.Here are what the collages look like before I cropped them into the comic:
I used a couple of Costco Connections, an old issue of my wife’s American Nurse magazine, and a couple of issues of National Geographic. I was surprised while I was cutting stuff up to find that one issue of National Geographic had a full article on seahorses called, of all things, The Weird Wonder of Seahorses. It felt like fate!
These collages are a little rough and a little rushed. But it was good to use my hands to cut and glue again. I have some ideas for incorporating more cutting and gluing into my haiku notebook.
The hardest part of this project was finding the poem. I clipped promising words as I scoured the magazine for colors and images that popped. Once I found “rediscovering”, the second line fell into place immediately. I was stuck on a third line for a while, but I knew it would show up when it was ready, and I kept working on the page layouts instead of worrying about how to end the poem. Sure enough, I saw a headline with “turbulent” and thought it would work well well with life, which I had already cut out earlier in the day.
Turbulent was also the trigger for the micro essay. Even though I’m 46 and both of my parents have been dead for more than four years, I still find myself feeling guilty about writing about my life. I’m reminded of a line from a book my kids loved me to read to them, “Can’t go over it, can’t go under it, can’t go around it. Got to go through it!” Writing memoir pieces and sharing them is how I will go through it.
Commercial Note
This week I’m revamping my welcome email and reviewing all of the different touchpoints of the newsletter to ensure everything about this newsletter is reflective of me and my goals. I want people to feel welcome, and I want to set the right expectations.
Be the weird you want to see in the world!
Cheers,
I'm sure that was a difficult thing to write and share, but that's why it needed to be. I could relate so strongly to the window. I once took a knife to the screen (basement apartment) so I could climb out. Same age, too.
These are gorgeous!