Anis Mojgani leaned out the window and shouted. “Little heart! Little heart!”
It was a chilly spring night, the sky turning purple as Anis (Oregon’s poet laureate and, less prestigiously, one of my favorite poets) read verses out his studio window to a crowd that huddled in beach chairs under blankets. I’ve seen Anis read a couple times before. To me, his poems always feel warm and profound; they transform simple, everyday, down-to-earth objects into some kind of wild energy. He can make a description of an ugly opossum into an joyful feeling that shimmers. His poem about a friend’s lemon tree growing from seed somehow feels like it’s about life and death itself.
I like going to literary events by myself, so I can focus on the words without having to worry about whether the people I’m with are having a good time. When I showed up on this night, there were already 40 or so people sitting in the street outside the window. A stranger saw me sitting on the cold pavement and handed me an extra camping chair to unfold for myself. Everyone quieted down as the music and poems started, both emanating from the window of the first-floor studio. When Anis finished his third poem, he called out, “Is my voice loud enough for the people at the fence?” I turned around in my chair and realized the entire street was full. Dozens of people had arrived, quiet as deer.
It reminded me of two weeks ago, when I’d heard different poets, amid a different crowd. I was in Philly for a writing conference and visited a new comics shop, Partners and Son. The shop happened to be hosting a poetry reading, so I squeezed into the back corner. As if on cue, right when the reading started, construction workers began tearing up the street outside. This was a Friday night at around 7pm, apparently prime time for a city crew to commence digging into the asphalt. The poets shouted their stanzas over the sound of the street being raucously destroyed. I didn’t know the names of anyone, but I learned about their bedrooms and past loves and their delicious desires and favorite smells. It was a crowd of writers, so everyone was laser-focused. The audience laughed at clever lines and cheered for particularly good words and whooped in a cacophony of praise when every poet ended. We were proud to be loud enough to be heard over the jackhammers.
In both places, what I felt was lucky. Lucky to be alive and among strangers. I feel like I’ve spent the past two years staring at myself in the mirror. After so long cooped up in the house, it’s a thrill to be out in the world, with people I don’t know, all of us witnessing the same thing. I’ve missed that thrumming, invisible energy that a crowd makes together, whether it’s quiet or loud. No matter if we’re shouting or listening or leaning out the window or sitting in the street, we’re saying, “I’m still here! And so are you!”
Stuff I Made
Uterus Comic - Yep. I got some bad news about my body and wrote a comic about it for The Washington Post.
Nothing to Say - I made this zine about how sometimes I just have nothing to say about everything that is happening in the world.
Most of my time right now is taken up by teaching comics classes—I’m teaching two different classes on making comics, plus co-leading a teen comics club! Once I get some free hours, I absolutely need to make some zines about the very funny things the teens say.
Exciting News
Artist-in-residence - I’m going to be the artist-in-residence of the Oregon Cartoon Project this year. I’ll be developing a curriculum to incorporate comics into classrooms and hosting fun comics events in parks in Portland, Eugene, and Corvallis. If you’re an educator in Oregon and have ideas on how comics could be useful in your classroom, I’d love to talk to you!
Stuff I Love
Everything, Everywhere, All At Once - This movie is so good and original and wild and weird and beautiful and funny, it seems impossible that it got made in this era of sequels and sappiness and superheroes. It really stretches the boundaries of what a movie can be. The only thing I knew about the movie going in is that it stars Michelle Yeoh. That’s really all anyone needs to know.
Our Flag Means Death- I started watching this pirate show because it’s directed by Taika Waititi and I’ll follow him anywhere, plus it stars Vico Ortiz, who I’m stoked to see finally get a big role. While I was not excited about a show about pirates, that all changes if it turns out to be a show about gay pirates.
La Femme - Shoutout to my friend Amanda who turned me onto this French psych-rock band that I have now been listening to nonstop for entire days.
Collar Pins - Approximately one million people complimented me on my cool collar pins while I was in Philly, which made me feel like, finally, after 35 years on planet Earth, I have developed some kind of actually good personal style. My previous fashion genre was “I’m wearing jean shorts” so really this is a step up. Etsy sellers are on strike right now, so don’t buy anything right now, but maybe bookmark this for later.
Prince of Cats - I read and loved Ron Wimberly’s graphic novel mashup of Romeo and Juliet, The Warriors, hip-hop, and samurai swords when it came out in 2012, but it just got the reissue it deserves as a gorgeously printed book with a wider trim size and new cover.
Gender Queer - My friend Maia Kobabe’s memoir is now the most-banned book in America, which means you should definitely buy a copy.
Annie’s Cinnamon Bunny Grahams - Nothing smart to say here, I just need to tell someone that I can’t stop eating these and they’re absolutely my new favorite snack.
What I’m Reading
Smashing Statues - I’m highlighting the hell out of this book by art crime professor Erin Thompson, who I know as the curator of a jaw-dropping art show of work from Guantanamo prisoners. This extremely timely book explores the racist history of monuments in the United States—and reveals how tearing down reviled monuments is a true American tradition.
Ministry for the Future - I tried to read the Red Mars series in high school, couldn’t get into it, and then didn’t read anything by Kim Stanely Robinson for 20 year. What a waste! This book about us humans grappling with the near future of the climate crisis is equal parts horrifying and hopeful, a realistic sci-fi book with real heart.
Fairest - I learn from everything Meredith Talusan writes, including her 2021 memoir about identity, bodies, and growing up albino in the Philippines and United States. I stayed up till 2am reading this on the couch this week, until I finally forced myself to put it down.
Something to Do
Read comics from Ukraine
The news from Ukraine is so horrible. I’ve really appreciated reading the work of cartoonists who are still in the country, documenting their everyday lives and feelings amid the war. Check out the work of Yulia Vus and Zhenya Oliinyk, whose drawing is seen above.