Here.

The first graphic novel I’ve ever read, and I enjoyed it.

It reminded me of the beauty of simplicity and the privilege I have of being...here. Spending time as a currency of the lucky, breathing air that is full of small things we cannot see, and watching the light fall through blinds and onto a white painted wall.

I haven’t written an actual entry in a long time. And I am honestly not sure how to write a bookish paragraph on a graphic novel. So I’ll just launch into the string of consciousness that comes out first, which is that the art was beautiful. I loved the colors used and the author’s ability to jump back and forth through time with frames inset among the pages. I liked that even though there are nearly no words at all, you understand what is happening the entire time. I liked that you watch the fruition of this corner in space as it passes through feral past into forced conformity of future. I am not familiar with the author who wrote the book, though he is apparently well known, and therefore I know nothing as to what his ultimate message or goal of the book is. but I appreciated that it allowed the reader and observer to deduce their own conclusion. I feel like this is possible because of the medium, and you can transpose your own experience into what you are seeing.

At the end of the day what I took from this book is that we bond to our environments. A small corner in a bedroom or a living room seems like nothing, a trivial bit of brick and mortar...until you must leave it. Or until you change it. It is a constant, a steady space that waits for adaptation. Are we not the same? Aren’t we, humans, a steady space that swallow change and adapt to what is around us? I don’t know if that really makes much sense. But as I finished the book and closed the cover over the art, I thought, “that corner waits for its next inhabitant, it’s next day. It has lived and breathed, watched and slept. It is human.” Maybe not so eloquently, but the principal was the same.