Funkenskatt (Stephen Dix)
Text and image 3 through 6 as published in Le Petite Mort Vol 5., Winter Solstice 2015
Thinking back to my school days, I can clearly remember how much I’d enjoy practicing my handwriting.
Carefully perfecting uniform rows of alphabet letters was my idea of heaven. Around this same time, my grandfather (Bernard) introduced me to his workshop–the place where he’d hand paint signs for local shops and businesses. Inspired by his genius for typeform (and perhaps the heady aroma of paint thinner), I began practicing my penmanship with increased enthusiasm.
When my grandfather passed away at the turn of the century, I started keeping a book. I don’t really know why–maybe it was permanency I was seeking: the thought of leaving something lasting behind, a memento of some sort. After all, aside from several faded signs still swinging around town, there was little left to show that my grandfather had even existed.
As the years have gone by, I’ve kept a notebook of interesting things that have happened to me. Things I’ve experienced, heard or seen. Over time, my note-taking has gathered momentum and my style has evolved. To date, my handwritten recollections fill several dozen notebooks–the latter of which have become increasingly intricate. Reproduced here are a few of my most recent pages. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I did writing them. If you do, keep a beady eye out for my soon-to-be-published book and accompanying art exhibition. It’s going to be nothing short of Funkenskatt.