The Art quote from Cocteau, whose only work I recall seeing was Orpheus (1950), and so the title bearing the weight of the stupid pun therein: distorted views of the body / life being a journey from reality to unreality, a descent. That's about as far as that goes, but I (for obvious reasons to anyone who knows me) was attracted to that quote.
And, so, this comic about the absurdity of getting old, of receiving invitations from AARP, of feeling funny about getting job titles with the word "senior" in them. Do not go gently. Funny, because the battle is in my head only - I am not experiencing anyone (except, perhaps, my children) who look at me and say, "'Senior' analyst? Yeah, you look it."
The first frame was something my mother told me when I was in my very early twenties and had thrown my back out, unable to move for days. Seriously injured, and in absolute pain. I'm sure she was supportive and comforting, but what I remember was her telling me that this would follow me my whole life, that I would never live with a confident, secure back again. Seemed like a dark thing to tell someone struggling to even crawl to the toilet.
That's how my brain works, and that's the SM frame: I will reiterate the most negative sentiment, over and over, as if it were a broken tooth.
The Art quote from Cocteau, whose only work I recall seeing was Orpheus (1950), and so the title bearing the weight of the stupid pun therein: distorted views of the body / life being a journey from reality to unreality, a descent. That's about as far as that goes, but I (for obvious reasons to anyone who knows me) was attracted to that quote.
ReplyDeleteAnd, so, this comic about the absurdity of getting old, of receiving invitations from AARP, of feeling funny about getting job titles with the word "senior" in them. Do not go gently. Funny, because the battle is in my head only - I am not experiencing anyone (except, perhaps, my children) who look at me and say, "'Senior' analyst? Yeah, you look it."
The first frame was something my mother told me when I was in my very early twenties and had thrown my back out, unable to move for days. Seriously injured, and in absolute pain. I'm sure she was supportive and comforting, but what I remember was her telling me that this would follow me my whole life, that I would never live with a confident, secure back again. Seemed like a dark thing to tell someone struggling to even crawl to the toilet.
That's how my brain works, and that's the SM frame: I will reiterate the most negative sentiment, over and over, as if it were a broken tooth.