How frightening that such an immense tragedy half-way around the world could have impacted you in the worst possilbe way. My cousin Pauline had been vacationing in Thailand this past month and just returned last night. She’s here safe and sound, but just barely. She mentioned that she and her travel buddy, Julie, were considering going down to Phuket for their last day to enjoy the beaches one last time. They decided against it for some reason, and that decision saved their lives. Those beaches that they had been sunbathing on just a couple weeks before are now completely destroyed by the tsunamis that hit without warning after the 9.0 earthquake.

Estimates are that 44,000 people have been killed. I can’t even begin to fathom this number. An immense catastrophe like this brings me down to an odd, sober state where I discover that all my worries are so miniscule and trivial as to be pretty damn laughable. And all the worries of this nation — the so-called morality issues that drive the overbearing FCC oversight, the bizarre fear many people have of two persons of the same sex exchanging vows of love, honor and commitment, etc. — these worries of the nation seem so utterly pathetic and completely useless when you see actual tragedy of such immense magnitude strike. We’re just ants on a shifting surface after all.

What do our worries and fears mean? I’m sure if we look closely they tell us quite a bit more about our own character than the “values” of those we point the finger at. I’m sure the people of Southeast Asia aren’t too worried about the “morals” of other people in their community right now.

I find it terribly appropriate that a genius instructor I had the amazing fortune of studying with years ago, happens to resurface through a new contact I made. I met Tom Gibbons only two days ago, and we may collaborate on a short animated film of his. Through a few emails relaying the rough scope of his ideas, he mentioned his friend Barron Storey.

Barron Storey is one of the pre-eminent illustrators in the US — among his many achievements, his Amazon rainforest paintings hang in the Smithsonian. Barron has a way of commanding your presence and leaving you shivering and cowering in your seat, wallowing in your ineptness. I’ve never met anyone else who so honestly and unapologeticaly embodies the role of mad genius. And I feel incredibly forunate to have studied with him. There is no student who left his hands without being stripped of their artistic hubris. We all walk and think, draw and paint, with the ghost of Barron in our forehead. His remnants are tendrils in your mind, reminding you of every what-if, every tragedy, every comedy, every searing archetype that you embody. And how it is possible to tap into the dark wealth of your psyche if you only allow yourself to destroy what you create, and create what you have destroyed. A true shaman, indeed.

Transport, motorways and tramlines
Starting and then stopping
Taking off and landing
The emptiest of feelings
Disappointed people clinging on to bottles
And when it comes it’s so so disappointing

Let down and hanging around
Crushed like a bug in the ground
Let down and hanging around

Shell smashed, juices flowing
Wings twitch, legs are going
Don’t get sentimental
It always ends up drivel

One day I’m going to grow wings
A chemical reaction
Hysterical and useless
Hysterical and …

Let down and hanging around
Crushed like a bug in the ground
Let down and hanging around

Let down again
Let down again
Let down again

You know, you know where you are with
You know where you are with
Floor collapsing
Floating, bouncing back
And one day….
I am going to grow wings
A chemical reaction
Hysterical and useless
Hysterical and…

Let down and hanging around
Crushed like a bug in the ground
Let down and hanging around