Getting some nice media coverage about tomorrow's 24 Hour Comics Day - though presumably there will be lots of Halloween candy, and even folks dressed up as superheroes or zombies, I'm not to sure about any strippers showing up (though models for reference are always a bonus). While still in the process of unpacking archives from storage after the move I dug up a few examples from previous year's material to pack along with supplies, and so it was inspiring to once again see the creative end results of such a focused period of time and energy. Looking forward to a repeat as I could use a jump-start, kinda like smoothing off the square tire effect in the morning when one's vehicle has been sitting out overnight at sub-zero temperatures.
Yesterday I had a brief bout of panic over being completely clueless about the impending event, but some subconscious brainstorming overnight yielded a batch of possibilities. I like keeping the concepts deliberately vague so as to maintain freshness and avoid being a control freak (one of the attractive aspects of these sorts of exercises is that it's diametrically opposed to my usual MO): just let it unravel in an organic, spontaneous narrative. The random ideas will percolate until packing up for the gig, and then it'll be time to pick one and just go for it.
It could be about The Firecat, my old orange tabby who used to sleep right next to the blazing wood-stove, and who in my dreams one night opened it up and crawled inside to snuggle down among the coals and then went up the chimney into the stars. Or another one stems from a few days ago while mulling over the incredible power of technology that enables me to use a hand-held device that streams a signal about current world news and events, beamed from a satellite in orbit above the planet, all the while I'm sitting in an outhouse. Shitting in a hole in the ground puts a humbling perspective on things. Or yet another in a similar vein is the "Doctor Poo" project, a parody of Doctor Who, except it's a hippy at a music festival and instead of the TARDIS he passes out in a Porta-Potty and wakes up at another place, and keeps repeating the experience but over a series of other events (circuses, sporting events, rallies etc.).
More than likely though it'll have something to do with documenting an existential crisis I underwent last week, and find somehow, someway to incorporate the piles of personal ephemera I've been unearthing after the move, alternately editing, recycling and throwing away some accumulated baggage - both mental and physical. That's always proved to be the most fertile ground for tilling ideas.