The Guardian and the Gardener is a short story that happened as an artistic perfect storm. I am proud of it and the way it stitched together, like its existence was an inevitability. The process is difficult to explain, but often times, the exploration at the beginning of a project can be like squinting into the setting sun. Sometimes it clicks, but even then, it can be quite trying to get my ADD brain to cross the finish line. For whatever reason, be it timing or Prozac (Probably the Prozac), the intention and progression of this little thing just sang to me. It is a deeply personal story, veiled in a setting that has always fascinated me: Feudal Japan, amongst the samurai.
I have no cultural connection to that area of the world, apart from a likely ancestry line to Genghis Kahn, but I am always taken with the beauty of that place and the legendary depictions of its people and customs. I think the samurai aesthetic and history probably wakes up the adventurer in me because I have yet to travel to the eastern parts of our planet.
I sometimes worry that my lack of true connection to Japan disqualifies me from fabricating a fable in that setting, but… whatever. It was fun and my heart came at it from a place of reverence. As someone who has developed a taste for over thinking every move of my life, I am glad this thing got written before I talked myself out of it.
GATG was written in 2023, on a flight between Austin, TX. and Frankfurt, Germany (about 9-10 hours). The polishing took place in a bakery/coffee shop on the Main River in Würzburg called Köhler Vollkornbäckerei. My uncle and cousin live in town, and I had the opportunity to travel with my other uncle to visit them and meet my cousin and his wife’s new baby boy.
Würzburg is an amazing city in Bavaria. It has around 130,000 people, just big enough to have an Ikea nearby, but small enough to have real local culture and a leisurely pace. It sits surrounded by Franconian vineyards and the watchful presence of the medieval Marienberg Fortress (almost 5 centuries old).
One of my favorite stories that I grabbed ahold of while I was in Würzburg was when the Swedish occupied the city in the 1600’s and the local winemakers got together and decided to bury their best wine in the forests to keep the Swedes from enjoying their amazing work. The only issue was that they forgot where a lot of it was buried, so people are still finding (or at least looking for) bottles to this day. A wine that old is mostly sludge at this point, but a really really valuable bottle of sludge. I’d try it. Fuck the Swedes! (Disclaimer: I do not have anything against “the Swedes.” My previous statement was a joke that would be lost outside of its original context. End Disclaimer)
It was a joy to write in that environment and explore Bavaria with my family.
The motivation for GATG hit because I was into the art of Brock Hofer, a Canadian illustrator who does these incredibly vibrant, chaotic, and violent depictions of snarling creatures tangled in vines and meat. What I found fascinating about his work is how the imagery could be, for all intents and purposes, grotesque, but because of the coloring and presentation, it wasn’t gory or unsettling. It was actually very pleasing to look at, even if the danger and horror of the environments he created screamed Hellish infection. I recommend you check out his awesome stuff: Brock Hofer Art
It and my testosterone got me thinking that I wanted a tattoo.
I mentioned before that I am an overthinker, so you can imagine the struggle that could come from the commitment to one tattoo or tattoo artist for someone that spends an unnecessary amount of time picking the perfect sour candy from the corner store.
The perfect candy needs to match the mood and the allowances of current times. Sour Patch Extremes are great, but the bag is so big and that is a very specific kind of stomachache that is hard to shake. Am I gaining weight? Do I need Cheetos to go with this? Do I look weird standing in this isle for so long as a grown man? Would Sour Punch Straws be the way to go, even though there are so few in the container? Should I start smoking again so I am not so hungry for sugar all the time? Are Twizzlers actually good or are they just red? These are the important questions.
I did not want to experiment with a tattoo that I might be tired of when I am 80. I could not commit to something meaningless, so as someone obsessed with story and kick ass imagery, I came up with a tale involving a corrupted samurai and an old forest God for a tattoo artist to interpret into a sleeve (I also grossly over produce everything, so I wasn’t about to just get a little inconspicuous tattoo to start. No, not me, I went full sleeve right out of the gate!). With the works of Hayao Miyazaki and Mr. Hofer floating around my head, mixed with a very strange transition point in my life, that I still seem to be hanging out in, I kicked out the 4,700ish words that will be spread out over 6 installments on this platform.
The tattoo itself is very expensive, so I only have the first session done on my forearm, but I think I found the right artist for the gig in Minh Pham, out of San Antonio.
Check out his amazing work here: Minh Pham Tattoo
I would love to get the story illustrated into a coffee table book someday, so if you think it has merit and happen to know a talented illustrator, send them my way.
As always, thanks for checking out something I made up. I hope it has some value to you, since it exists.
It feels harder to commit, not just to candy or tattoos, but to creative pursuits in general, now that there is such an excess of everything on the internet and AI is on the rise. I have been toying with this idea of “in a world with too much everything, we may need more nothing in our day to day.” I do not yet know if I find peace in that statement or just extreme melancholy, but I think there is room to hold a belief like that and to strive to be obsessed with something you’re passionate about, as well. I hope you can find things that light you up and get you motivated to keep making new stuff on this space rock we call home. I hope what you do brings you joy and makes life better for those around you. It is weird out here but it could always be worse, right? We could have everything we ever wanted, and it not feel like we made the right choice.
