2010.10.06

My 24 Hour Comics Day project this year -- my attempts to come up with an actual story sort of fizzled, so I made this nostalgic and kind of self-indulgent work about moments and memory.... this is part 4 of 4.

on the porch of my first apartment with jt, eating pasta and listening to the soundtrack to "the birdcage". this hit me as 'a moment' when i was in that moment	dylan's odd gag of pulling out his work-id-on-a-retracting-spool like he was a pullstring doll that could only say "i love bank boston. i love bank boston"

driving to new york on rainy night, my civic spins out, luckily the truck was a good distance away	buying m. expensive sunglasses, an early token in our relationship

an asian gentleman disarming my clogged traffic road rage on memorial drive by waggling moose antlers	stockpiling jugs of water ahead of y2k, just in case

making a german 7 year old giggle with a terrible "auto-baum" draw and cartoon	design group hanging out upstairs after layoffs

looking down the dark, snow covered road before finishing the walk home; it also registered as one of these moments i wanted to fix in my mind	endless games of "pokemon puzzle league" with eb

working with m. to saw the legs off a table too big to move and restore them; her insecurity, the skepticism of eb	during knowledge transfer when leaving a job, in joking anger i tossed a remote at noor, but hit and hurt him for real.

getting so sunburned this one time with k that my chest was pretty much the same shade as my nipples...	a weird moment of hubris when jz pulled up a game site at work as we were waiting for a compile

the moment of dawning horror realizing the oreo handed to me had actually been pre-licked - my mouthfull response 'wheahs da cweamy fillin'? is a moment providing many laughs for eb in the years since...	the craziness of my first 24 hour comics day; forgoing sleep to tell a story i had wanted to tell for a long while

the first kiss with amber, the electricity and sudden spark of this being the one...	later, a trip to niagara falls, and her nervousness on the oversized ferris wheel there...

that same trip, weeping on my dad's grave	and on the way backcoming to the where the church where i lived in an apartment with my folks was with amber, and seeing the grassy lot

so, those are my moments. some of my moments.	moments, and memories. some researchers think memories aren't so much made but remade; the act of remembering cements and reshapes the neuronic pathways

i guess that's one thing photographs do; become the canonical record, the mold for future remembering. and these comic panels will guide my future memory, I'm sure	is it telling what showed up here? more from my younger days than recently, and my dad shows up more than my mom; i'm not sure what to make of that

i think somehow i want my moments to outlast me; that's why i'm writing this now	it's tough to let go.