![]() |
|
|
My Resume |
The Coolest Calendar December 2001. I was reading the Philadelphia Weekly and came across Liz Spikol's article on local artist, Jim Tantum. The article was about his (then) upcoming 2002 calendar, which is filled with events ranging from meaningful to seemingly trivial. Jim's calendar had an item, a recollection, a bit of insight, an anniversary of something from his life, on every single day of the year of his calendar. I was amazed to know there was someone like Jim -- someone who kept lists, stubs, report cards; kept track of all sorts of important and mundane events. His work totally spoke to me: I have been keeping notebooks full of lists and memories since at least eighth grade, old calendars since the early 1990s, plus movie stubs, gazillions of photos, newspaper clippings, god knows what else since god knows when. There was someone else out there turning that sort of pack-ratty OCD into art. Brilliant! I needed to know more!
In May 1998, my mom's Aunt Rosalie (she's pictured to the left) passed away...she was a remarkable woman. She, too, was a packrat.
I visited her in Amhurst, MA, a month before she died, and she handed me a huge box of her old calendars: the store-bought variety. She marked
something in every day, from the tragic ("Fire at Dick's house today") to the ordinary ("Bought hot dog from street vendor. Delicious!"),
and it just kind of hit me about how the big things effect us, but at the same time, how the hot dogs from the street vendors can bring
such complete joy and satisfaction.
So to run into Jim was very cool. His calendars are surprisingly personal, very revealing about him as an individual, and at the same time, extremely universal.
We all have good days and bad days, days full of joy and days of pain. That's what makes us human, and Jim's calendar is a reminder
to celebrate our lives.
So take a look at Jim's page. He has more items available than just his calendar...items that will tide you
over until December, when he hopefully begins to sell his new calendar!
|