Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Dark Night of the Soul


Yeah, I've been on a journey, a vision quest, a dark night of the soul. Was that three things? Anyway, a dark night of the soul that was many nights. A lost weekend that stretched over many weekends, full weeks, a couple or three months. Both in states sober and drunk. With only Samurai Jack cartoons to keep me warm.

I enter into evidence the above photo, taken by Sarah Woodward on the 4th of July. This was taken moments after I'd brushed my teeth with my fingers, which I don't rightly recall, and not too long before I took off on foot, bottle of Johnnie Walker Red tucked under my arm...which I don't rightly recall...at least I don't recall anything until I popped out of my drunken coma, realizing I'd done a zombie-sleepwalk-stroll miles into the unknown and away from what would have been my intended(?) destination(my house).

That blank stroll into the unknown, sans not just unknowing but sans all words, I have been repeating in various forms, with this seeming naught to communicate to the outside world. Well, kids, I'm back. Back with a book to peddle (well, okay, the book was done before this, but setting up the book release party and promotion was completed upon my emergence from the darkness). Check out the relevant info on my sketchbook blog, Covertly and by Snatches.

Expect me to resume business as usual around these parts with continuing reports. But if you see me on the dark side of the street with that blankly haunted look on my face...well, you know what's happened...

- - JTD

1 comment:

Paul said...

I remember days of my own like like that. Now I'm stranded in a dry county with no car and no ways of exit (except maybe for this thing that feels like its growing in my side on a day to day basis, but that is beside the point), just dreaming I could have a bottle of Duvet which I've never tried or something like Jagermeister or Bailey's Irish Cream or Guniess or anything to get out of this place where one day bleeds into the next, and I'm forced to go to Bill Gaither's bands' concerts.

I mean Sonya Isaacs with her mouth closed and not wearing a jacket in an attempt to cover up her very nice assets is like a trip to Disney Land.

However, the all buttoned up version filling my head with that brand of music is more than any man should have to endure.