Things go Wrong but that's Alright

notes from making sneaky art in new york city + a projector malfunction.

That white screen was not supposed to be white.

Dear reader,

There is more stuff happening in New York, per block, than any other place. I take the PATH train from New Jersey into the island and realize that, beneath the towering skyline, under the streets full of people from everywhere, there is filth and neglect. The richest city in the world cannot clean its train stations. We are stopping here for a while because the track is occupied by another train, a voice says over the intercom, sounding busy and bored at the same time. But the city itself is an argument for the mess. Maybe it is in the places where some things do not work that other things shine?

Every city is many cities all at once, its space zigzagging across time. The decisions of past decades bear fruit next to the boons of past booms and the curses of past evils. The remnants of scars and symbols are also there, but things become other things. Every city is all the places it has been and can be to everyone that has passed through it, as well as all the places it was dreamed to be. Every dream competes with every other dream. A great city is a battlefield of dead imaginations.

***

Day 1. Grand Central Terminal. I am here to witness the power of a single book. How it can emerge from a single mind to captivate millions. How it can take over the busiest parts of the busiest city in the busiest country of the busiest world. I need to see for myself this power that stories can wield. The book is Dear New York.

“I’m doing the wrong thing to ease the pain.”

I spend nearly an hour there, watching, listening, drawing, feeling very small indeed. But one day, I tell myself, one day. Just you wait.

***

I walk up 5th Avenue towards Central Park. On the way, a Barnes & Noble. I go in, hoping against hope, and see many wonderful books with wonderful marketing budgets. I see books whose beauty has earned them permanent spots on the bestseller shelves. I do not find my book. So it goes.

I meet Jason Chatfield for drinks and we discuss the enshittification of social media and society and Comic Con.

***

Day 2. It is raining but the app says that it will let up. (The app is wrong, it does not let up.) I am going into Queens to meet with the NYC Urban Sketchers. Afterward, they give me the floor to do a short talk + demo. I speak about the book, and my work, and the ideas I like to share when people come to listen to me. I meet many wonderful people.

I find out that my book event on Monday is sold out.

The lines did not need to be so quick because the gap between trains is quite long in NYC.

***

Day 3. A storm is due to hit the city tonight and all of tomorrow. In the grey afternoon, I sit in a Starbuck’s in Newport, facing the churning waters, to watch the angry clouds roll in.

Clouds above, waves below, in sync.

***

Day 4. It rains all day. Before the event is to begin, I meet Drawing Thought for coffee. She gifts me a copy of her brilliant book. We talk about the books we want to make, and clever ways to make them.

When I reach the Book Club Bar, they tell me the projector is not working. No amount of cajoling or threatening has helped. That’s okay, I say. I spot Kurt Vonnegut on the shelves, and it reminds me that -

“Unexpected travel suggestions are dancing lessons from god.” - (Cat’s Cradle)

Later, after the talk, someone will come up to have their book signed and tell me that they are reading Cat’s Cradle.

So I do my talk without the images. I explain that this is alright because the images are not related to the talk. They are not related to the talk because I have not planned the talk, and I do not want to know exactly what I should say. But it’s okay, because I know what I want to say. I point to the Notes app on my phone.

It says: Begin with attention.

That is all.

***

The word attention comes from the Latin attendre, which means ‘to stretch towards’. To give attention to your environment is therefore a metaphor for stretching towards it. To give attention to another person is to stretch towards them until you connect, somewhere in the middle space. To draw is to give attention - to stretch, to connect - in a language of lines and colours. Because words are political - which means they are full of meaning and devoid of meaning at the same time. And words are everywhere today but words are not everything. To draw is a uniquely human experience of the world that begins with engaging with your mind and ends with translating with the body upon the page. To draw is to understand how much of your human experience exists outside of language.

So it goes.

The talk is completed, and I think I could have done it better. Maybe the projector malfunctioning did rattle me a little. But it does not matter. What you say does not really matter. What matters is whether you gave them a few good sentences. If the good lines land, they stick. If they stick, you win.

In this respect, words matter very much. The saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words. But sometimes I wonder if it doesn’t work the other way too. That a good word - or string of words - can spark a thousand images in your mind.

***

The line for book signings is very long. But I make sure to listen to each person while drawing them on the inside page, to give them my full attention as they gave me theirs. Jason Chatfield asked about Imposter Syndrome. Samantha Dion Baker was there despite having just flown in from Italy. And Carolyn Yoo drew through it all. Special thanks to Pele and Alicia for their company, the lovely drawings, and all the wonderful pics.

Juan gave me this illustration of my talk, in exchange for my tiny drawing that he found on the shelves.

I am quite amazed that anyone would stand around waiting for a chance to talk to me.

Sam & Carolyn

The next day, I see Tommy Kane for coffee. We talk about books and I tell him about the next book I want to write. He is impressed, so I know I have a good thing. Maybe it does not take over Grand Central. Maybe not even a big poster at a Barnes & Noble on 5th Avenue. I don’t know. I only know that it isn’t my job to know these things.

💻 [Read] “Curiosity for people soon extended to the city that allowed them to coexist.” - an email conversation with Amy Stewart.

🎙️ Ep 73 of the SneakyArt Podcast is now live. This is a conversation with James Richards about his new book - The Travel Artist. Find it anywhere you listen to podcasts.

✍🏼 On Imposter Syndrome, Artificial Intelligence, and Lessons from a sketchbook habit

🎟️ More seats have been added to my Victoria and Vancouver book-events. Updated book tour info here.

***

The SneakyArt Post is a newsletter of secretly drawn art of the world. Thank you for your time and attention this week.