I’ve been working on a set of pages in which my mother the line asks me to tell her the story about her death. This portion of the larger narrative will be lengthy and difficult (emotionally) and I am taking it very slowly … breaking it up with work on the fictional portion of the narrative.
The images I’ve completed thus far on the death have come quickly. The words, though, have been slow to manifest themselves. I finally thought I had it “right” (and penned them in) only to see that some of it doesn’t read well and I need to go back and revise. Minor revisions, but important, I think. Here are a few of the images, isolated from the words:
P.S. During the making of those tiny clock-hands, I sustained my very first scalpel injury! Took off a tiny bit of my index finger. Graphic Medicine!