(re)Generation 2018: meet your heroes.
DAY THE FIRST, Wednesday:
Snow. Darnit. Ā Iām going delay my trip a day.
DAY TWO, Thursday:
I got up at 5:30a, trekked down to my conveniently already-packed car through the snow, but the streets were clear, and I began my drive westward and northward. Dawn over snowy mountains is spectacular.
I visited with puppeteer friends in Richmond, saw their local makerspace, and hung out with an old friend from my touring days and her new dog, Dave, a rescued sweetheart from Puerto Rico.
DAY THREE, Friday:
Off to DC, with literally NO traffic. I had brunch with the incredible JoJo (Burlesque Poetess), who is a Doctor Who nerd of equal or greater value, and extended bandfamily from ten years ago. Ā Itās been so great to reconnect and talk art and ideas and nerdy references. And how we engage with the universe, and how sometimes the universe engages right back.
After brunch I headed to visit my friend Matt and his wife. Ā It was great. Ā I met Matt a few years ago at a convention, all because I had PuppetCapaldi with me, Matt used to write and draw for Doctor Who comics, and has since become one of my closest art friends and advisors and person to send random texts to in a crisis. Ā Good people, but this is the first time weāve hung out in person since our initial meeting. Ā It was great. Ā A few hours later I was off to Baltimore.
It took 3 hours. Which didnāt mean much to me, as I donāt drive DC to Baltimore often. Ā But yesā¦ I later learned it should be a 45 min trip. I parked eventually and made my way to the hotel for ReGen. Ā I knew only one person going in, and I promptly sought him out: Drew Meyer. Ā I snuck into the back of his panel (itās worth mentioning that I met Drew the same day I met Matt, and PuppetCapaldi did those introductions too) and tried to use context clues to make out what it was about. Ā I got as far as Drew referring to the Tardis as āsort of like a windowless vanā, when I abandoned that notion and decided Iād just make a note of it, so I could mock him in my end of trip summaryā¦ likeā¦ now.
After touching base, and handing off my puppet suitcase (Drew was storing it onsite so I could attend the March for Our Lives the next day without needing to worry about a giant rolly-bag and crowds) I caught Irene Richard coming out of the panel she had just hosted with Rachel Talalay. Ā I feel like Iāve known Irene for years, I think itās how decidedly New Yorker she is, but this was our first time actually meeting. Ā We hit it off, as I knew we would, and then by some twist of awkwardness and fate, I was standing at a table with Rachel Talalay admiring a scribbled storyboard movement sketch. Ā I love things like that. Ā Process-peeks. I realized I didnāt have anything to say to Rachel (aside from the whole: Youāre awesome, inspiring, and your eye is fantastic), which is bothersome, because Iām a fairly interesting person at times, and I want to learn so much from her, sheās a powerhouse in the industry I am just starting to dabble in, and am always keeping an eye on. Ā I didnāt have any puppets with me to reinforce that I make stuff, etc. Ā Thatās fine, there was a whole weekend ahead.
I skipped out to dinner with Drew and his friend Brent, and shortly after went home to my friendās house, where there was a party.
The party, I wonāt get into too much, but I walked in and it was like knowing everyone. Ā They were activists, peers, they had a prison letter writing campaign going on in the dining room. Ā I had such a wonderful time meeting everyone, it was a completely unexpected bonus. Ā I miss my punkrock anarcho activist friends. Good to see organization like that in Baltimore. Ā I slept in a room with multiple accordions. Ā Perfection. Ā Thank you Jonathan for your hospitality and your excellence.
DAY what is it now? Four? FOUR, Saturday:
I got up early, mostly because I had been and would be antsy about giving my panel on puppet and prop-making that night. Ā No one else in the house is up, and I need coffee and to get to the March.
I get a Lyft to town, remembering seeing a Starbucks a block or two away from the hotel. Iām traveling with just a little backpack and my travel mug as my puppets are stored at Drewās so I get out and head off to it. Ā *Normally Iād avoid Starbucks and hit up a local cafe, but the Baltimore Harbour is rather commercialized I couldnāt find an indie place to scope out. Ā I was not alone in thisā¦
I walk in, an amalgamation of bleary-eyes and nerves, and to my left I see a familiar figure and hear a voice, and at first I dismiss it, as I donāt quite place it- holy damnit. Ā Itās Peter Capaldi. ***Now, I am going to stop you here. Ā Peter Capaldi is a big deal to me. Ā I met him last year, PuppetCapaldi in tow, and some friends got me to make a 24 hour comic about it. (Itās here https://tinyurl.com/y9cfma2t) worth a read, and itās flipping cute, and I might reference it once or twice more.***
Heās talking with Rachel. I make my way past them, because they are having a conversation and the day is young, and I am about to go shake my fist at government, and I need coffee andā¦ While Iām waiting in line, they finish their conversation and get up. Fine, universe, I might as well, I wanted to reconnect with Rachel anyway, so I do. Ā I say hello, I explain that this is a very bizarre and rather delightful start to my day at least. Rachel introduces me, Peter shakes my hand. āIām Peter.ā āValerie.ā We talk for a short while. Peter grabs my travel mug and inquires about my Scottish flag sticker with EU stars super-imposed. I explain that, while I am not from the UK, Iāve kept up on Brexit and I talk about meeting with the remainers outside of Westminster, and when I was in Glasgow- Glasgow? Ā Oh yes, and then I point to the sticker next to it, which is a map of one of my favourite cities in the world: Glasgow (my travel mug is adorned in stickers from places Iāve been recently, namely Glasgow and Berlin, and Tokyoā¦) Peter doesnāt quite recognize it, so I point out The Clyde, and it clicks. āOh!ā Ā He says, then we start to talk about Glasgow. Ā Itās brilliant. Ā He points to a place on the map and shows us: āI have a flat right around here.ā Ā I show him where I stayed, across from Kelvingrove. āOh, thatās the West Side.ā Ā Heās right, but I act jokingly incensed. Ā Glasgow, Glasgow, Glasgow, and then itās time to go. Ā We say our goodbyes. Ā And they are on their way and I will see them later andā¦. I need coffee.
I walk back to the hotel a few minutes later (to set eyes on puppets, make sure everyoneās all set, and tuck them away at the Pixel Who booth, who have lovingly adopted us for the weekend), glowing. Ā It occurs to me I just got to talk to Peter Capaldi about Glasgow. Ā Not Doctor Who, not The Thick of It, not Puppets, just Glasgow, a city we have a mutual fondness for. Ā This is somehow the best thing ever.
Okay, get your head together, Valerie. Ā Itās time to go to the March. Ā So I do, itās about 4 blocks away, an easy walk and the whole time Iām overwhelmed with what today might end up being like. The March is indescribable. Ā I went to the local Baltimore version, knowing DC would be too much to contend with if I am to teach a puppet workshop that evening, but I believe it was worth stepping out wherever and being counted in the hundreds of thousands of people demanding better gun control in the US. Ā Kids are on the microphone, empowered by their peers, and finding their voice, and demanding their safety, and Iām already just emotionally dilated and I begin to cry. It was such a powerful morning.
After a couple hours, Iām starting to fade. Ā I leave the March, return to the hotel, get some food and grab my date, a 3 year old, beat to hell, semi-retired PuppetCapaldi. Ā He is the goshdarn belle of the ball when it comes to conventions like these, especially when Peter is present. We go to a panel interview of Peter. Ā As heās my aforementioned ArtHero, I am terribly interested in what he has to say, but I donāt care as much about meta Doctor Who information unless itās fun anecdotes of monsters and puppetry, of which there are a couple. Ā The only thing I am interested in him answering related to Doctor Who is what was it like to make something like this in the world of Brexit or Trump, or how does Doctor Who intersect with our current reality, because sometimes it seems to offer direct commentary, and Saturday (with the March) was just a particularly important day. Ā A sort of: did Doctor Who, the franchise, feel it has a duty of care, with how it couches its viewpoint in media, etc. Ā I never got to ask that question, but someone asked one similar. His answer was lovely, talking about how ultimately Doctor Who is being made for kids, and giving them the globalist (universalist) perspective of The Doctor will help shape their thinking and the world as they inherit it. Ā That world leaders should be afraid, because Doctor Who is communicating with the generations that will replace them. It wasnāt quite the question I had, but it was close enough. Ā Thank you, whoever asked it. Ā I looked for her after (she had blue wristlets), but never found her.
I ran into Rachel again after this, and donated to WhoAgainstGuns and got a lovely postcard of the (now dismantled) Tardis interior, which I love, a set I desperately wish I could have seen, could have been on, and I did try. Ā She signed it to me. āTo Valerie from Starbucksā and we talked about how we both ended up there that morning for lack of other options. Ā I apologized for bothering them, but there was no need. Ā It also caught me offguard to be remembered. Thatās a long time problem for myself. Ā Iāve written about it many times before. Ā I am getting accustomed to the concept that people do in fact have object permanence when dealing with me. Ā Itās nice to be remembered.
Iām about to go get our little family photo taken, when Michelle Gomez passes by and sees PuppetCapaldi she makes āthe faceā as I have come to call it. āWhaaaaarghourgh!ā Ā She yells as sheās rushed by. Ā I make a note to find her later. Ā She made the āI know that guy!ā face, and I think she wants a picture with it.
I am currently, in present as-I-write-this day, realizing how darn wordy I am. Ā Iāll try to condense. We have our photo taken. Ā Peter puts together that I am me. Ā The woman from this morning, but also that we have met before, once he sees the puppets. Ā I let him play with the finger puppet, and before I know it weāre looking into the monitor (THEY HAVE A MONITOR, BLESS YOU!) and Iām talking about finding focus, etc. Ā A photo is taken of me adjusting Peterās arm while he stares down the camera, and then one where I look at the camera but he, and all puppets present, are focused on the monitor. Both are super adorable.
Weāre removing puppets, etc and Peter says āYou made all these, yes?ā Ā Oh yes. Ā Someone prompts me and I mention the puppet I brought that is loosely based on Armando Iannucci, not that anyone would recognize it. Ā āI would recognize himā Ā Peter says. āBring him by and show me.ā Ā So, thatās that. Ā Iām off. Ā A bit thrilled that Iām getting a reputation as the puppet lady. Ā I mean, Iām certainly working at it, but attaining it is an altogether different feeling.
Iām sitting outside in the hallway playing with two little girls who were there for photos and talking to them about puppets and Sesame Street, and that sort of thing, when Peter and his folks pass us. Ā The girls and I (and PuppetCapaldi) wave at them, and I continue to pack my photo into my Spacejunk sketchbook and then Iām alone in the hall. Ā I head for the elevators and as I turn the corner I walk into the most wonderful scene:
Young Theo Tidemann (who I did not know at the time) has just started playing ukulele at Peterās request, while weāre all waiting for elevators. Theo starts āI Canāt Help Falling in Love With You.ā Ā Itās wonderful. Ā Itās sweet. Itās about to get even better. Ā Peter starts to sing along, then slowly we all do. Ā A bunch of strangers, singing in impromptu harmony. Ā Itās so magical. Singalongs are like my religion. Ā That metaphysical energy of communion through song? Ā Itās transcendent to me. Ā Early on I realized that I was in a perfect moment, and I thought of this kid I was about to meet, and he deserved a video of this. So I juggled my puppets a bit and took some poor quality video with my phone, it pans up and fades out, and it doesnāt matter. Itās the perfect moment, and we can rewatch it anytime. Ā (Itās on @hellotinywonderās instagramā¦ https://www.instagram.com/p/Bgt7jO8Ar25/ and BBC-A put it in an article about Doctor Whoās Day recently) Other things happen that day. Ā I get a moment with Michelle, she takes a photo with PuppetCapaldi, but Iāve never seen it since. Ā I am still looking for it. Ā Itās a great exchange, though. Showing someone your art because they are excited about it. Ā Iām pretty proud of that. I play ukulele in a room of other ukulele peopleā¦ itās ukubiquitous!
I sit in a dark corner and just breath a bit. I end up talking about puppets with the custodial staff, and itās one of the most delightful conversations of the weekend. Throughout, I am adrift.
PUPPET PANEL! Ā It went WELL! Ā Kathy OāShea David helped out and brought her army of puppets as well, I would go on, but really, it was mostly just me talking about puppets, how to build, what to use, asking questions, answering questions, and corralling Ā a puppet petting zoo. Ā Unexpected hit of the posse was Kyle the Fish! Everyone loves Kyle, I demonstrated my feelings on ventriloquism with him (when using a puppet, in my opinion, moving your mouth doesnāt matter, if your focus on the puppet is correct, and your manipulation is believable and you hit your lipsync, people will just accept it.) As I started to put puppets away, when my panel was over I looked up and saw Kyle, some kid was manipulating his mouth, and it was so moving. Ā I make reference puppets like I do fanart, to expose people to the other stuff I do. Do you like PuppetCapaldi? Ā Heās a portrait puppet, a skill I possess, and can do for anyone! Do you like this Rick from Rick and Morty? He has moving eyes, a mech I designed, and also use over hereā¦ People fell in love with Kyle, who is my very own intellectual property, and that meant the world to me.
At some point, I and my puppet rolly-bag float away to bed.
DAY I FORGET, ITāS THE LAST ONE, Sunday
I drive myself in this time, so I can scoot off when Iām done. Puppets stay in the car, with the exception of PuppetCapaldi, my date, and Armando, who I debate quietlyā¦ I mean, heās janky, heās not quite right, heās not a portrait puppet, heās just *based* on Armando Iannucciā¦ do I want to show a piece to Peter that I donāt fully stand behind? Ā Iāll decide later. Ā I stuff him into my travel tote which I realize then is my tote from the Scottish National Portrait Gallery. Ā I sigh. I am the biggest nerd ever, even when I donāt mean to be.
I have Coffee with the Creators. Ā This is delightful. Ā I get to pick some peopleās brains, and let others just tell me about what they do. Ā I am thrilled to get to speak more with Simon Fraser, a comic book artist for Doctor Who, I swear, I do collect them as friends, it seems. I also get to meet Steve Gostelow whose table Iād been eyeing throughout, but we missed eachother. Ā He was a monster maker, and sculptor, and having a materials and process geekout was fantastic.
Thereās a moment when Rachel is about to come to our table, and she has to get up and leave, we make this brief sort of eye contact and I realize as sheās headed out, that itās fine. Ā Weāll catch up later, that is such a strange and wonderful feeling. Ā She tells me later she had to run up and get her photo taken with the three Doctors. Ā Adorable. Ā Flipping Adorable. Ā I will see her again in a little over a month, and that is spectacular.
I am walking around the con, taking it all in and Peter and his small group walk by, Iām talking with my new fellow blue-haired early 30ās lady friend Gale at Nightengale Needles, and I look up and see him. Ā I have nothing to say to him so I resort to my clown communication skills and make a friendly, but decidedly silly face.
It is returned.
This is a professional milestone, in my book.
Later I am in the vendor area, and I meet up with Simon Fraser and his family. Ā We talk a bit more, he likes PuppetCapaldi (really, that puppet handled nearly all my introductions, itās great). Ā I am looking through his portfolio of work for sale, mostly because what he is selling is traditional blue pencil and ink, and I like just looking at peopleās work, understanding how they develop a peice. Ā Then I see the page. Ā Itās 4 vertical panels of Osgood throwing her scarf to a falling Twelfth Doctor. Ā She saves him. Ā He is appreciative and grumpy. Ā She looks like me. Iāve seen this page, Iām told itās from a Free Comic Book Day issue, from Titan, I assume. Ā I was eyeing a wallet made out of it on Etsy, I love it. Ā I love the composition, the dynamics, the SHELOOKSLIKEMEness of it all. Ā And here it is. Ā Waiting for me.
I rarely buy things at conventions, but this page has been in my mind for almost a year? And I love it, and now itās mine. And in some strange cosmic organization, it was always mine.
On my way out I touched base again with Steve Gostelow. Ā I show him my āCelastic: Do It Old School!ā button. Ā While he didnāt use Celastic, he still appreciates it. We talk a bit more maker shop and itās wonderful.
Okay, the last line for meet and greet and autographs. Ā As I said in my comic, these are the people PuppetCapaldi was made for. Ā We had time, and I struck up conversations with all the lovely people around me, especially this woman, Michelle, who gave me a clif bar. Ā Smart folks. Ā I showed her the comic, which gave her a bit of context into what was about to happen.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with getting an 8x10 glossy photo signed, but that is not where I am at. Ā When people set down what they would like to have signed, I pulled out my do-not-lose-me-orange A4 #Spacejunk notebook and open to a random page. Ā That is what I want signed.
When Iām about to meet Peter, again, I take off PuppetCapaldi, thatās not what this is about. The woman in front of me is having her Missing DoSAC Files book (one of my favourite books ever) signed āby Malcolmā. Ā Peter pens a short, furious, and F-laden diatribe for her. She thanks him and wishes him a happy birthday. āAh yes!ā He says. āThank you.ā He goes on to sign a photo she had in her collection of signables. āYou know, Iāll be 60,ā he starts, āand when youāre 60 the government gives you a little pass. Ā And I can take all the buses and trains for free.ā The public transit junkie in me is thrilled. Itās always nice to have common geekery with the people you look up to.
Oh, then itās my turn. Okay, then. I try to briefly and calmly (everything is madness around me) explain that I am here to ask him for some advice, or encouragement, that I, and many like-minded friends of mine are all at these weird professional empasses, and I look up to him, and have for some time, even this puppet has gotten me work out in the big crazy world of TV and Film. Ā He smiles and grabs a blue sharpie (which I realize I had secretly hoped heād use blue, despite the several black, silver, and gold sharpies on the table).
āShall I make it out to you?ā āSure.ā Ā I say, (I mean, fair is fair, Iāll share the advice, but this is my letter, sorry kids.) ā...Iām Valerie.ā I continue. āI know.ā He says and continues to write.
Iām again caught off guard at this display of object permanence. This hero of mine knows me. Ā Knows my workā¦
He is writing, but stops. āHave you got your Armando with you?ā
Ulp. Ā More object permanence.
āWell, I mean, yes, but itās not quite-ā āI want to see it!ā He puts the pen down. Heās written something about stars aligning.
I dig Armando out, explaining that heās only *based* on him, for a show Iām buildingā¦ I slip my hand through the secret hole in the sleeve, and lift the puppetās head.
Peter makes what I have described earlier as āthe faceā.
He gasps, giggles, then buries his face in his hands. Armando looks around a little frantic, and a little jangly, scratches his head. Ā Peter lifts his head, locks eyes with me, locks eyes with the puppet, and devolves into laughing. Ā āItās *so* like him!ā Ā he says. Ā āI need to show this to him.ā His handler takes our photo together. Ā Peter explains āthis one is special, this is for a friend of mine.ā Ā A woman who I guess knows Iannucciās likeness also gets it and now sheās laughing.
āIām going to send this to him!ā Peter tells me while his friend takes the photo, āHeāll love it!ā
Peter sits back down, again telling me how much Puppet Armando is like Proper Armando and recomences writing. He just keeps going, weāve stopped talking, and itās rather quiet, surrounded by the din of the convention. Sharpie on paper, scratching.
Someone behind me taps me on the shoulder and checks to see if I am doing okay. I tell them I am fine, and I am. I am perfect.
Heās stopped mid-sentence, and is just writing āworkā over and over in the margins.
He finishes. Ā Having filled the page, which is adorable. āThere. Is that alright?ā Ā He asks. Ā I tell him it is. And I thank him. āGood luck.ā Ā he says, handing it up to me. Ā āAnd have fun.ā (I will.)
āYou are very talented.ā
All of this means so incredibly much to me, I donāt think I can properly explain. I thank him again and look up. The rest of the world races back into my consciousness. Ā Michelle, my new friend from the line, is only a little bit crying. Ā āAre you crying?ā Ā I ask. Ā āMaybe!ā Ā She says. And I realize she is, because she gets it. Ā Because she read a silly little comic about this weirdo art girl who is just collecting advice, inspiration, and encouragement from the people she looks up to, and somehow today itās coming together perfectly.Ā
Empathy Abounds.
Peter and I say good-bye, and Iām off to put Armando away more properly.
(Oh, I also scurry back to the table to pick up Armandoās eyebrow which fell off. Ā Peter looks up and I hold the eyebrow up to my own and it all registers. Ā Such a puppeteer move, you guys.)
After that itās just a farewell fanfare finale. Ā I say goodbye to everyone and then I am off. Ā Completely rejuvenated artistically, emotionally, professionallyā¦ I canāt describe it all, and Iāve been doing nothing but describing it all for seven pages of a google doc!
I drive through the evening and end up in Staunton, VA, just as the sunset turns to night, to stay with my friend before heading home the next day. Ā We order Chinese, as sheās also just come back from performing and we are prolevel ladies that deserve a night in. Ā Weāre talking about art, and Fringe festivals, my weekend, and hers, itās great to continue this creative thread outside of my Baltimore adventure. I open my fortune cookie, which says: āWatch for a stranger to soon become a friend.ā Thatās sort of how Iāve been living my life, as of late. We make more tea.
Pan Up.
Fade Out.