The following is the April 1988 installment of Puszone
Thanks to Scott Slimm for the article.
The mirror had an icy glare to it as I stared into the reflecting image
of myself. The eyes were blue and pale, dark circles sunk deep below
the sockets, wrinkled skin showed signs of insomnia that had persisted for
days, and my vision was out of focus. I sunk my fingers deep into my tangled
hair, trying desperately to undo the rats and mats lodged in my skull.
The pain was sharp. Some hair fell to the sink. I walked back to the room
where I had existed for the last few days. My stomach growled for food.
I pulled back the chair at the white table and glanced at the pad of paper
positioned directly in front of me. It seemed to laugh at me. It was white,
unblemished perfection. Maybe I was laughing at myself, maybe it was all
a joke. For days I have watched this white sheet, determined to violate it.
Black brush in hand, dripping with India ink, I had been trying to create,
forcing myself to think. It was all blank, my mind, the time lost, the
thoughts floating by.No images, just delusions. Maybe I was stale. How could
I fail? it was hard. I wanted to succeed. The music sung out over and over
in the background. I had watched the sun rise and fall, I had felt the cold of
night. I had experienced so much. And yet, the paper was still white,
untouched, perfect, taunting me. What was my goal? What was it so important.
The frustration dominated my soul. I wanted to shred the white sheet and
end this misery. I didn't know if I'd do i today, but soon my creative image
would be put to paper, and that Frantic Scratching from within my mind.
I hoped it would someday appear in the Puszone.
The joys and pitfalls of an artist. Frantic Scratchings was created
to show that imagination, that spirit. And when the call was put out, those
scratchers went to work and the flood began. And after months of collecting,
here is a sampling of some of that promising talent, as well as a listing of
some of those who sent work in. Keep up the good work!