bridges and bookends, part 1
I’ve known rivers:
I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
-from "The Negro Speaks of Rivers," by Langston Hughes
“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,”
- from “Howl,” by Allen Ginsberg
These poems have rolled inside my mind for a quarter of a century, stumbled upon in the early internet era while playing an online encyclopedia quiz game where entries could be searched for clues. I would find myself tiptoeing to the computer at midnight, praying the screams of dial up didn’t wake the entire house as the concentrated power of poets colored my vision and drove me to search for meaning on the page. Such access to literature shaped me, and I developed a thirst for the written word.
I’ve been a devourer of story from those early days of hearing Langston and Ginsberg in the digital archive. I developed an enthusiasm for writers of the Harlem Renaissance, the Beat Generation, and global mythology. I learned to scour the archives for interesting histories, folk songs and old stories. This is how I ended up on a pilgrimage that stretched across the nation my literary homelands on opposite ends of the country.
When the opportunity to illustrate a book presented itself, I lept enthusiastically into the unknown. 135 hours of precision drawing, hundreds of emails, and hours of virtual meetings yielded a beautiful book called “It’s a Good Day to Change the World.” A year after initial contact, I was invited by the co-authors Lauren Schiller and Hadley Dynak to go on book tour to celebrate the publication of our collaboration. Our destinations were several independent bookstores in the Bay area, Manhattan, and Milwaukee. During down time, I’d check in with artists and galleries then steal away to Sonoma county to test pilot an artist residency idea.
On tour, I saw the Golden Gate and Brooklyn Bridge, and darkened the doors of two significant literary temples: City Lights Bookstore and the New York Public Library. I had late night adventures, caught up with old friends and new, and nearly cried in public. I saw street art, ate pizza, heard buskers, and marveled at the persistence of artists, musicians, and writers determined to share truth with anyone who would look or listen with their hearts. This is my story after the story, about what it means to be part of a tradition and to contribute to the canon of human creativity.
Thanks for reading part one. You can hop over to part two by clicking this link.
As a little thank you, here’s a link to my Tri Coastal Tour Playlist. If you’d like to purchase a book and postcard bundle, head over to the shop.