My favorite bookmaker (no, they won’t take bets on the Superbowl) Stillman & Birn has some nice words about my book on their Facebook page. They are the first to discuss my art work in depth and I appreciate their insight:
THE ART OF “A KISS BEFORE YOU GO”
Much has been written about Danny Gregory’s new memoir, “A Kiss Before You Go”. The book is a powerful account of grief and mourning in the year following the death of Gregory’s wife Patti. The book has won acclaim in numerous reviews and has been cited as one of the top books in its category by Oprah Winfrey. But not enough has been written about the book’s graphics and their artistic achievement. This is understandable in a way: Gregory’s poignant narrative is so compelling, that it is the focus for the reader. But anyone interested in art journaling should take a careful look at these accomplished drawings, and the seamless way in which they are integrated with the text. Here are two examples of this. The first is a riff on Hokusai’s iconic “Great Wave”. Gregory uses this image as a metaphor for the waves of intense emotion which can be overwhelming in dealing with grief. The second image of a church on a black background has a more subtle connection to the narrative, an anecdote about the potential for people to atrophy, socially, in solitude. Both images have a tone of urgent spontaneity, yet both renderings are obviously grounded in an impressive technical mastery of draftsmanship and color control from a leading exponent of the art journal form. Click here to see an enlargement of these pages: http://bit.ly/UPY62O
And a Kiss B4U Go is the cover pick! (alongside other amazing authors like RIchard Russo and Jeannette Winterson…)
Wow! Happy New Year!
P.S. A favor: There’s a really nice review of the book and I’m sure it would be helpful if people who come up on it knew others had read it too, so please, feel free to comment on it too and share your experience of the book. The more the merrier!
A drawings and some thoughts that never made it into the final version of my book, AKiss B4UGo
I sit in the Hong Kong airport, and, somewhat hesitantly, open the folder of my photos of Patti. In the past, I avoided looking at these pictures unless I was willing to lose it, even wanted to lose it. I take a breath and I flip through the vacation pictures, the birthdays, Patti playing with Jack at three, at ten, at fifteen, hugging the dogs, hugging me.
I feel a smile grow, seeing my love, my friend as she was, as she is, full of warmth and fun, all good memories, not sad or heartbreaking but there in me, warming me, keeping me company so far from home, just like she always has. I miss her like I would have done on long journeys past, thinking of how she would feel about what I’m doing now, what she would have thought of the curried noodle chicken soup I had at the airport cafeteria. “Ew, sounds goobery, honey,” she would have said. “Hurry home. I miss you.”
I miss you too, Pandy, I miss you a lot, but the thought of you deep inside me will help me keep on, keep happy, keep living. Our love is forever, no matter what happens, and now I feel like I might just cry, here in the Hong Kong flight club.
A sad declaration, written in my journal when I was just sick and tired of being sad and tired.
I have been forced to stand on my own, to define and empower myself as a single unit rather than part of a pair. I have had to take responsibility for things I could get away with not doing, have had to be much more practical and unsentimental about things. Sentimentality is too powerful an emotion to bear now.
The life I define for myself is leaner, stripped down, less indulgent. Like a hard mattress, a rough blanket, a single pillow. In some ways, many actually, this is good for me. I feel more confident, more in control of the edges of my life, less anxious about the next shoe dropping. But my life is a lot less rich and beautiful. My harder, rational side is unmitigated by the gentle flirtations of love. And, while my heart is still here, still beats, is still capable of love, I fear it is also smaller and harder and less romantic.
Patti’s death has changed me forever. Just as Patti’s life did.
I just read a beautiful review of my new book by my pal and mentor, Roz Stendahl. I hope you get a chance to read it because she describes her experience so beautifully.
This painting is in my new book. The following words are not.
365 days after she was gone, I took off my wedding ring to see what my hand would be like to be without it. Single.
The skin of my finger had grown thick around it, hugging the ring and, when I tugged and cajoled the three interlocked gold Cartier bands off, the knuckle was distorted and misshapen.
The next night I had a dream that Patti asked me where my ring was. I told her a lie to explain. I don’t remember the details, just the feeling.
A week later my ring finger looks normal again but on closer inspection the skin is paler, softer, and the outline is still faintly there. But only I can see it.
Steven Heller has written a beautiful and deep article about my book in one of my favorite magazines, the Atlantic.
A funny interview with me and some other stuff on The Morning News.
My favorite bookmaker (no, they won’t take bets on the Superbowl) Stillman & Birn has some nice words about my book on their Facebook page. They are the first to discuss my art work in depth and I appreciate their insight:
Have a lovely holiday and, if you happen to find A KissB4UGo under your tree, do let me know what you think of it. I’ll write again around New Year’s.
Danny Gregory 