Julia Wertz receives a call from her mother, an invitation: "Let's collect eucalyptus spirals!" The trip is an occasion for mild antagonism -- Julia refers to Mom's "nonsense plan," and Mom implies that a certain assumption of Julia's is evidence of insanity. But the tension ebbs *and* flows -- rancor is forgotten when the two women become excited about a redwood log and a possible "new planter."
The chat ends with a burp. There is a philosophical discussion. Is a burp a form of "comedic relief"--? Or is that strictly the job of a fart?
I don't think these panels are revolutionary, but they're fun. Any kind of journey is (potentially) a story -- on its surface, the eucalyptus mission is banal, but then, it's not something we often see in art. Also, people burp. People talk about farts. I'm glad that Wertz is working to make this observation -- she is even smuggling her observation into the pages of "The New Yorker."
Looking forward to Wertz's upcoming book.
Comments
Post a Comment