Yay, xoxofest is starting to publish this year’s talks.
The activity encourages small groups to work together to transmit an image using only simple sound signals. Allocated a wooden rattle, a container of shells, two forks (or similar rudimentary sound-making devices) participants must somehow devise a code to communicate a non-verbal message.
Heeey, I’m super happy to announce the first Silly Inc. exhibition! *applauses*.
Come to say hi, drink and dance with me and my drawings and other fine people this Thursday the 25h in Madrid! RSVP here.
PS: Yes, a print featuring the heads of 20 evil robots will be on sale.
Back from Berlin.
Teaching my classes, I started to notice during the breaks that there was so much warmth between these people who often had very little in common. They had engaged in a fairly passionate and intimate kind of play with each other, and the connections between them happened so quickly, and they developed such a collective fondness for each other. But this fondness lacked the traits we normally associate with adult friendship. They didn’t know that much about each other. They didn’t know what was going on in each other’s lives. But they felt a strong and genuine closeness. They were happy to see each other. And I started to think, Oh—friends are the people you play with. That seemed like a pretty good definition of friendship to me, and I was satisfied with it.
Then, about five years ago, a friend of mine moved here from Kelowna, British Columbia. She said, You know, in Toronto, friendships are all based around talking. What you do with your friends is you go out for coffee or drinks, or you go to their apartment and you talk about stuff. In Kelowna, what you do with your friends is go swimming. It seemed really beautiful to me that in Kelowna your friends might just be these people who liked floating around in the water with you—that the people floating near you are your friends.
I’m not sure how many of you live in Berlin, but if you do and want to hang out I’ll be around until the 22th of September.
You can contact me here.
Meh kind of day.
[W]hen you leave to sail around the world, you don’t have to do it all at once. A big trip is really just a bunch of small trips put together. You just have to make it to the next port, fix what’s broken, make it to the next port, fix what’s broken and so on. I had what I needed when I started, so in that sense I was prepared.
Sooo, like two months ago I promised myself that, whenever I went outside, I’d bring my beloved 5-year-old GF1 camera with me (“I’m going to take photos all the time”, I said to myself). I can’t show you pictures of the moment I broke my oath because, of course, my beloved 5-year-old GF1 camera stayed at home the whole time, unaware of my betrayal.
A couple of days ago, however, after successfully bringing my photographic device to some places and making click click click several times, I decided to give it another try.
I also created a photo diary, because I like failing bigger every time.
I hope you like it.
I drew some super simple (and inflatable?) icons the other day at work.
PS: I’ll be in Berlin from 12th to 20th of July. Ping me if you’d like to meet up.
These days I use Tumblr mainly as a way to save the images I like, so I wrote a little script in ruby that downloads them to my hard drive. Here it is: tumblr-photo-export. Plus, with the resulting directory I made a beautiful screensaver.
I had a terrific time attending ELCAF (aka the East London Comic Arts Festival) this past weekend with my friend Júlia. I met some friends and illustrators from around Spain (hi, punio, bloglaurag, josejajaja, mentecalamar, cristinadauraillustration and cachetejack!) and enjoyed the talks of Chris Ware, Seth and Mattias Adolfsson. Plus, I brought a bag full of nice comics and posters!
Other thing I brought? This video of the Q&A with Chris Ware & Seth. My gift to you :)
The pasilalinic-sympathetic compass, also referred to as the snail telegraph, was a contraption built in an attempt to prove the misguided hypothesis that snails create a permanent telepathic link when they touch. The belief was developed by French occultist Jacques Toussaint Benoit and colleague Monsieur Biat-Chretien in the early to mid 19th century.
The supposed telepathic bond between the two snails was imagined to have no physical limit, thus making communication possible over any distance. By touching one half of the snail partnership it was suggested that the other snail would sense the contact and would move. Benoit built an apparatus to test his theories, but it quickly became apparent that what he expected to be a communication revolution was in fact just a costly failure.