Endgame in the War Against the Book Lice…

Or Tim Needs Things To Do.

OK, for the first time since I discovered the book lice infestation way back in July, I was able to bring the full weight of my attention to the subject. And because of a coincidental bit of luck, Mandy was forced to help me take my war to the very heart of those skeezy little devils’ hideout in our storage/library/crap room.

On Friday, I received and email from Mandy (she was at work… at least one of us earns a normal wage in these sad economic times) asking if I would like two sets of steel, flat file shelves for free. For those of you that don’t know what flat files are, google it. I kid, I kid… Flat files are pretty much what they sound like, filing cabinets that are huge and squished, which means they are designed to hold big sheets of paper. Lots of paper. Basically, if you ever find yourself in a gallery office or a really cool library or the hinterland of museum or in a studio of an art school or at a classy architecture firm or the home of a successful artist, you will find flat files. They’re big, heavy, strong, archival and fairly expensive, at least at my current level of success in the marketplace. To be asked, out of the blue, if I’d like two sets of files all for the price of getting a zipcar (in reality, a ziptruck) was fantastic. The problem, other than wondering if we’d even be able to move them as we didn’t have any details on their brand which meant that they could have weighed as much as 300 pounds, was that we needed somewhere to put the flat files in our apartment. They have a pretty big footprint and we have limited space. Our storage room was the only place that made any sense, but in order to do that, we had to clean it and anti-bug spray it until the room was like Hell on Earth for book lice. And that’s what we did. And then I went on a mini quest, got the shelves and found out that I need a few boards so that the files can rest comfortably on one another… which leaves our apartment in a state of disarray and me calling my dad with yet another project for him and his wood shop. I’m so glad that Thanksgiving is right around the corner.

But I do own flat files. And you know how excited I get about storing my stuff. These new shelves completely dwarf the wooden shelves I had made, by my father, this summer. In fact, I’m nearly 100% certain that I can store every scrap of artwork that I’ve made since I was fifteen in just three of the shelves. That would leave me with seven shelves for all my current work, which I guestimate will only require three. So, I have like four shelves just waiting to be filled with who knows what. Candy, maybe.

The nice thing about all this flat file pre-cleaning activity is that it took my mind off the fact that I’m sort of spinning my wheels. As I mention last week, I’m in a holding pattern for the Salem book and winding down the stuff that needs to be done on the punk book (which has an April 1st release date if I hadn’t mentioned that before). Obviously, this is the time to start the next project. Beginning projects is always the worst, simply because they are projects without weight. One second it may seem cool, the next, it’s the worst idea ever. There simply isn’t enough project there to either hold my interest or make me feel guilty that I haven’t finished it already. I haven’t put enough effort into any of my rough projects to really feel compelled to work like an insane person. It will happen, eventually.

In order to fill my free time, I started looking for the perfect desk. I know, there is no perfect desk. And I don’t really like desks. But I needed something to do that felt “productive”. For three days, I agonized over desks. My thinking was that if I’m going to spend a huge portion of life sitting in one place, I should really, really like that place. It should feel like home and be cool and strike fear and awe into all those who sit before it. Or just be extremely functional. I had myself convinced that I was going to have a grown-up person’s desk and that I’d start 2012 like a super professional. I wasn’t completely certain as to which desk to buy, something olde fashioned or something sleek and new; but I was going to get something. Then that whole flat file thing dropped in my lap. With it, went all the square feet necessary for a grown-up desk. Three days of useless research and agonizing disappeared like a morning mist. I’m left sitting at my augmented Camp Hill desk while my work table is buried under all the stuff that needs to be in the flat files that will not be operational until after Turkey Day. Really, I’m getting nothing done, well, nothing larger than like four square inches. Oh well, I should know by now, having written and drawn four books on whatever rickety table presented itself, that things like fancy desks aren’t part of my process. Sure, they look cool but really, when I stop and think about it, the money spent to acquire a cool desk would allow me to make so many books that there’s no reason to entertain the notion of owning one. I just have to remember to keep everything simple. By definition, a fancy desk is not simple.

Here’s my life. (please note that Darth Vader is in each shot to provide a sense of scale)

The Augmented Camp Hill Desk:


The Work Table:


Huge Flat Files… Er, Almost: